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.
