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Patriarchs and Prophets
In the obedience of faith, Abraham had forsaken his native
country—had turned away from the graves of his fathers and the
home of his kindred. He had wandered as a stranger in the land of
his inheritance. He had waited long for the birth of the promised heir.
At the command of God he had sent away his son Ishmael. And now,
when the child so long desired was entering upon manhood, and the
patriarch seemed able to discern the fruition of his hopes, a trial greater
than all others was before him.
The command was expressed in words that must have wrung with
anguish that father’s heart: “Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac,
whom thou lovest, ... and offer him there for a burnt offering.” Isaac
was the light of his home, the solace of his old age, above all else
the inheritor of the promised blessing. The loss of such a son by
accident or disease would have been heart rending to the fond father;
it would have bowed down his whitened head with grief; but he was
commanded to shed the blood of that son with his own hand. It seemed
to him a fearful impossibility.
Satan was at hand to suggest that he must be deceived, for the divine
law commands, “Thou shalt not kill,” and God would not require what
He had once forbidden. Going outside his tent, Abraham looked up to
the calm brightness of the unclouded heavens, and recalled the promise
made nearly fifty years before, that his seed should be innumerable as
the stars. If this promise was to be fulfilled through Isaac, how could
he be put to death? Abraham was tempted to believe that he might be
under a delusion. In his doubt and anguish he bowed upon the earth,
and prayed, as he had never prayed before, for some confirmation of
the command if he must perform this terrible duty. He remembered
the angels sent to reveal to him God’s purpose to destroy Sodom, and
who bore to him the promise of this same son Isaac, and he went to the
place where he had several times met the heavenly messengers, hoping
to meet them again, and receive some further direction; but none came
to his relief. Darkness seemed to shut him in; but the command of
God was sounding in his ears, “Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac,
whom thou lovest.” That command must be obeyed, and he dared not
delay. Day was approaching, and he must be on his journey.
Returning to his tent, he went to the place where Isaac lay sleeping
the deep, untroubled sleep of youth and innocence. For a moment the
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father looked upon the dear face of his son, then turned tremblingly