In modern thought, the very question about a relationship to God leading to the death of child is repugnant beyond comprehension. And yet in the time and culture of Abraham, allegiance to one’s god could result in his child’s death. Abraham’s poignant experience with the God of the Bible presented a radically new understanding of God, and on this basis God’s blessings would extend to all generations to follow. What happened between the time of God’s calling for the sacrifice of Isaac and angel’s staying of the execution that wrought such a profound theological shift? Or, more directly, how did Abraham’s experience illustrate the modern notion that fidelity to God should result in preserving children, rather that destroying them?
This question is especially relevant to contemporary theology, since it has roused heated debate in the public arena. Some faith-healers claim, for instance, that if their children die of sickness, it is because God willed it. Conventional practice of medicine attempts to save the life of a child, without regard to God’s intentions. Government is often torn between the responsibility to save children and its obligation to defend the right of individuals to practice their faith in God.
A closer look at the tension in Abraham’s trial, pitting his faith in God against the life of his son, can shed light on this difficult question. There is a significant shift in his thought between the time he heard God’s command to offer his son Isaac as a burnt offering and the angel’s command not to lay his hand on Isaac; and this shift is the key to the Bible’s consistent theme that “it is not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish.”1
At the time of Abraham’s ordeal, burnt offerings in general were normal components of religious practice by his neighboring Canaanite tribes. Sacrifices of all types symbolized an intercommunion between a deity and his worshiper. They were presented s gifts of gratitude and tokens of allegiance.2 Even the sacrifice of children was offered as a proof of one’s loyalty to his god. So, it’s reasonable to consider that Abraham may have already been considering how he might demonstrate his loyalty to the invisible God he had come to know.3
The command for sacrifice might have sounded reasonable to him. It was a voice that spoke of his beloved son of the promise: “Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love…”4 He had heard of others who were willing to sacrifice their children to their deities, and so regardless of Abraham’s opinion about it, it would have seemed possible for his God to ask the same of him: “offer him…as a burnt offering on one of the mountains that I shall show you.”5
The text in Genesis doesn’t offer a description of Abraham’s reaction. It’s as if the story were told by an observer who could witness only his behavior, leaving the privacy of Abraham’s thoughts untold. In Narrative in the Hebrew Bible, Gunn and Fewell point out the peculiarity of Abraham’s solitude.6 Why would Abraham have ignored Sarah and kept the enormity of this request from God all to himself? A reasonable explanation for this aloneness is found in the introduction to the story, where it is announced curtly that, “after these things god tested Abraham.” The story is strictly about Abraham and his God. All the other characters are incidental to this particular plot.
Abraham was taking responsibility for his own thoughts and actions. If anyone else had consoled him or guided him, the opinions of others would have served as an interference, and the conclusion of the test would have been uncertain. The servants were left behind when they had reached the place in their journey when they were no longer needed. Abraham was acutely alone from the world and tenaciously close to God in this closing scene.
What was going on in thought during that hike to the altar of sacrifice? The only hint of Abraham’s sate of mind is found in his verbal response to Isaac’s question: “‘Father!…the fire and the wood are here, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?’” Abraham said, ‘God himself will provide the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.’”7 Was this a lie? He was carrying the tools for the sacrifice of his son, and yet he spoke the words that were ultimately true. There is no indication that he foreknew the substitute sacrifice, since he did place Isaac on the altar; but Abraham’s response to Isaac does indicate the possibility that his thought was changing. At some point Abraham was going to know that his fidelity to God would not involve the death of his child.
If Abraham was lying about God’s provision for the burnt offering, why did he choose that particular lie? He might have suggested a servant was already there with the lamb; he might have said he (not God) was going to find one. Instead, he at least thought the possibility that God would provide it. The mere thought of it made him immediately receptive when the Lord’s angel told him it was so.
The quiet three-day walk gave Abraham an opportunity to consider a radically new concept of fidelity and sacrifice, an idea he may have been considering in his response to Isaac’s question. While the text doesn’t indicate the reasoning or revelation unfolding to Abraham, the conclusion that came directly from the Lord’s angel is explicit: “Because you have done this, and have not withheld your son, your only son, I will indeed bless you, and I will make your offspring as numerous as the stars…”8 Unlike the sacrifices offered to the tribal gods, the God of Abraham would promise perpetuity and blessing on the offspring.
Although Abraham didn’t have the advantage of knowing the outcome of his sacrifice during his walk to the sacrificial altar, a detachment was taking place. His detachment from Isaac was becoming as vivid as his detachment from the material gods of his neighbors. In effect, Abraham was required to relinquish every material attachment to Isaac - his biological relationship, his physical sense of him, his knowledge of successive generation - through the act of making a burnt offering. But Abraham already had experience with the blessing that comes with disconnecting from materiality. His God who was only known to him spiritually had convincingly blessed him, especially with the promise and birth of Isaac.9 The material law of generation had already been broken, since Sarah was well past menopause when she conceived Abraham’s son.
Was it necessary for Abraham to climb as high as he did up the mountain of sacrifice, when God’s intention was to preserve and bless his child? If, as the introductory phrase of Genesis 22:1 suggests, this was God’s test for Abraham, what was he expected to prove in passing this test? The angel said, “because you have…not withheld your son…I will indeed bless you.”10 Because he was able to relinquish his son - to God - he was able to discern the blessing born of sacrificing whatever was not of God.
Abraham’s capacity to sacrifice might be expressed by a more contemporary writer, Thomas Merton, who describes his own discovery of joy that comes from sacrifice. He writes;
“I ought to know by now, that God uses everything that happens as a means to lead me into solitude. Every creature that enters my life, every instant of my days, will be designed to wound me with the realization of the world’s insufficiency, until I become so detached that I will be able to find God alone in everything. Only then will all things bring me joy.”11
Merton’s sacrifice is of the world’s insufficiency, or perhaps one might say of the material component of creation. He found that all things of joy have their source in God, and that by sacrificing an attraction to the worldly, or material sense of them, he finds the joy of all God’s creation. Here is a hint that Abraham actually did fulfill his obligation to sacrifice and that the test determined whether he could discern what it was that needed to be sacrificed.
As Merton expressed a detachment from the insufficiency of worldliness, Abraham was experiencing that kind of detachment in his three-day journey. One aspect of worldly attachment to Isaac might have been a false pride of fatherhood. After all, God is the one who promised and gave him.
Mary Baker Eddy offers a helpful insight into the nature of the blessing that comes from such sacrifice. She describes in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, that the purpose of Abraham’s trial was to reveal the “life-preserving power of spiritual understanding.”12 The “offspring (made) as numerous as the stars of heaven and as the sand that is on the seashore”13 is a vivid description of the opposite of a dying child. Abraham’s detachment from the worldly (material) sense of Isaac awakened a spiritual sense, or understanding of him. And it was joyous, indeed. Blessings included numerous offspring, authority over enemies, and the blessing of all nations.14
This concept of gaining life-preserving power through the sacrifice of worldly attachments is the critical point needed in the current discussion on whether fidelity to God leads to the death of a child. Those who claim God’s will is the death of a child mistake the message of Abraham’s sacrifice; and those who cling to matter as the life-preserving power mistake the means of attaining Abraham’s blessings. Alone with the invisible God of Spirit, Abraham’s trusting obedience revealed the life-preserving blessing that comes from the detachment of material longings. Modern thinkers can be reassured that fidelity to God does not lead to the death of a child; but they can be challenged to sacrifice the world’s insufficiency and find the life-preserving power of spiritual understanding.
Eddy’s system of spiritual healing (described more fully in Science and Health) is based on this concept of worldly detachment and spiritual understanding; and those who practice it today are often mistaken for those who think it is God’s will for some children to die. The modern practice of spiritual healing will be better respected when Abraham’s sacrifice is understood as an awakening to the Lord’s blessings and to his authority over his enemies, rather than to potential loss. The promise echoes through the generations: “by your offspring shall all the nations of the earth gain blessing for themselves, because you have obeyed my voice.”15
1 Matt. 18:12
2 The New Westminster Dictionary of the Bible, 1970 ed.,s.v. “Offerings.”
3 Walter Russell Bowie, The Interpreter’s Bible, (New York: Abingdon-Cokesbury Press, 1952), vol.1, 642-643.
4 Gen.22:2.
5 Ibid.
6 David M. Gunn and Danna N. Fewell, Narrative in the Hebrew Bible, (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993) 95.
7 Gen. 22:7,8.
8 Ibid,vv.16,17.
9 Ibid, chaps. 17 and 21.
10 Ibid. 22: 16-17
11 Thomas Merton, the sign of Jonas, quoted in Heather King. “Notes from a desert sanctuary,” The Sun, December 2001.
12 Mary Baker Eddy, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, (Boston: The First Church of Christ, Scientist, 1875), 579.
13 Gen. 22:17.
14 Ibid, vv. 17-18.
15 Ibid.
how easily Greg makes use of his technological wizardry to provide easier access to the teaching and preaching in his world of religion. But I was also curious as to whether technology can go too far and ultimately turn us into slaves or even victims of technology. Ray Kurzweil argues in his book, Spiritual Machines, that technology has advanced so far that within the relatively near future, we’ll be able to download even our spiritual elements into embedded computers in our bodies. This way, we can live as long as we continue to download our internal computers. The moral dimensions of these issues are deep and complex, but Greg and I concur that our true natures are spiritual and therefore will not be dominated by man-made creations. Let us know what you think about this conversation, here on 
another Mary? Why does the emphasis on her character remain on her bustling about 
themselves and not becoming dependent on anyone. So, does that independent, self-reliant person need a savior? What if we don’t want someone (like a savior) bugging us and telling us what to do? If we really don’t need a savior, what does that say about people who are really suffering? Do they get saviors if they want one? Are we more likely to get saved after death or before death; and what do we get saved from, anyway?
Bobbie McKay and her husband, Lew Musil, had a hunch there was a spiritual phenomenon that needed documentation. Bobbie herself experienced a spiritual healing some forty years ago, and she kept hearing reports of others with similar experiences. She and Lew headed out to investigate what people had to say about their healings. You can read the rather shocking results of their exploration in their book, Healing the Spirit.I’ve also experienced healing from my prayers, so Bobbie and I thought we’d like to compare notes a bit, to see what we might learn from each other. Bobbie is a member of the United Church of Christ, and I am a Christian Scientist.
