Some time later God tested Abraham. He said to him, "Abraham!" ?"Here I am," he replied. Then God said, "Take your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about." Genesis 22: 1,2 (NIV)
True love can be measured only by sacrifice. You truly love something more than yourself, only when you are willing to give it away, only when you are willing to let it go. Your love is immeasurable when you sacrifice the one that you cherish the most. You cherish their happiness more than your own. You cut off the umbilical. You abandon yourself. You brace yourself for death, a hollow in your soul, with a loss that can never be replaced.
If you cannot make this sacrifice, then your love is shallow. This kind of love is only possessive. And possessive love never lasts. Whenever did any possessiveness of your possessions, ever last through your childhood? You grow out of it. Possessive love never lasts. It may seem great, but it never lasts. It may be demanding, for a period, but you move on.
In the well-known sacrifice of Abraham, his great love for God stands paramount like a bright shining light. What we easily miss out is the quiet candle, of the paradox, of his love for Isaac silently burning within and eroding all personal future. We see his willingness to cut off the emotional umbilical. For whenever you walk to Mount Moriah, you pass through the blazing heat of spiritual catharsis. It’s what parents must do for their children. It's what a true lover will do for his beloved. It's what a dog would do for his master. It’s what God did for us, when he granted us free-will. It is the paradox of supreme love. The paradox of God's love and our own, as they merge. An intimacy in which God understands our pain, and we his. And we look with wonder at the disfigurement, our own disfigurement, on the Cross... resolving to continue our walk home, with broken gratitude... even if it is the long walk through Moriah.