Genesis 22:1-19

The Altar and the Lamb: A Portrait of True Faith Text: Genesis 22:1-19

Introduction: The Mountain of Trial

We come now to one of the highest peaks in the Old Testament, and like all high peaks, the air is thin and the climb is perilous. This chapter is a profound stumbling block for the sentimentalist and the skeptic, but for the Christian, it is a glorious vista from which we can see the entire landscape of redemption. The story of Abraham and Isaac on Mount Moriah is not a story about a capricious God demanding a monstrous act. If that is all you see here, you are reading with veiled eyes. This is a story about the nature of true faith, the cost of obedience, the heart of worship, and the promise of the gospel, painted in colors so vivid they ought to take our breath away.

Our modern sensibilities are easily offended here. We live in a soft age, an age that values comfort above all, an age that has domesticated God into a celestial therapist whose only job is to affirm our choices and soothe our anxieties. The God of Abraham, the God who tests, the God who commands the unthinkable, is an alien to our culture. But He is the one true God. And the test He puts to Abraham is not for God's benefit, as though He needed to find something out. God is omniscient; He knew what Abraham would do. The test was for Abraham's benefit, and for ours. It was to reveal the quality of Abraham's faith, to solidify it, and to make it a testimony for all generations.

This is not an isolated incident. This is the pinnacle of Abraham's walk with God, a walk that began when God called him out of paganism in Ur of the Chaldees. God had promised him a son, and through that son, a seed as numerous as the stars, a seed through whom all the nations of the earth would be blessed. But the promise was delayed for decades. Abraham and Sarah had laughed. They had tried to fulfill it through their own carnal machinations with Hagar. But God, in His faithfulness, had given them Isaac, the child of promise, the son of their old age. Isaac was not just a son; he was the covenant embodied. Everything God had promised was wrapped up in this boy. And now, God commands Abraham to take that promise, that covenant, that son, and put a knife to his throat.

What we are about to witness is the collision of God's promise and God's command. And in that collision, we will see that for the man of faith, there is no contradiction. We will see a faith that obeys without understanding, a faith that trusts God to be faithful even when His commands seem to undermine His promises. This is the anatomy of a living faith, and it is a picture, a type, a dress rehearsal for a greater sacrifice on an even higher hill, when God the Father would not spare His own Son, His only Son, whom He loved.


The Text

Now it happened after these things, that God tested Abraham and said to him, “Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then He said, “Take now your son, your only one, whom you love, Isaac, and go forth to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I will tell you.” So Abraham rose early in the morning and saddled his donkey and took two of his young men with him and Isaac his son; and he split wood for the burnt offering and arose and went to the place of which God had told him. On the third day Abraham lifted up his eyes and saw the place from a distance. And Abraham said to his young men, “Stay here with the donkey while I and the boy go over there; and we will worship, and we will return to you.” Then Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering and put it on Isaac his son, and he took in his hand the fire and the knife. So the two of them walked on together. Then Isaac spoke to Abraham his father and said, “My father!” And he said, “Here I am, my son.” And he said, “Behold, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?” And Abraham said, “God will provide for Himself the lamb for the burnt offering, my son.” So the two of them walked on together. Then they came to the place of which God had told him; and Abraham built the altar there and arranged the wood and bound his son Isaac and put him on the altar, on top of the wood. And Abraham stretched out his hand and took the knife to slay his son. But the angel of Yahweh called to him from heaven and said, “Abraham, Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am.” And He said, “Do not stretch out your hand against the boy, and do nothing to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only one, from Me.” Then Abraham lifted up his eyes and saw, and behold, there was a ram after it had been caught in the thicket by its horns; and Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up for a burnt offering in the place of his son. And Abraham called the name of that place Yahweh Will Provide, as it is said this day, “In the mount of Yahweh it will be provided.” Then the angel of Yahweh called to Abraham a second time from heaven, and said, “By Myself I have sworn, declares Yahweh, because you have done this thing and have not spared your son, your only one, indeed I will greatly bless you, and I will greatly multiply your seed as the stars of the heavens and as the sand which is on the seashore; and your seed shall possess the gate of his enemies. In your seed all the nations of the earth shall be blessed, because you have listened to My voice.” So Abraham returned to his young men, and they arose and walked together to Beersheba; and Abraham lived at Beersheba.
(Genesis 22:1-19 LSB)

The Terrible Command (v. 1-2)

The narrative begins with a stark and ominous statement.

"Now it happened after these things, that God tested Abraham and said to him, 'Abraham!' And he said, 'Here I am.' Then He said, 'Take now your son, your only one, whom you love, Isaac, and go forth to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I will tell you.'" (Genesis 22:1-2)

The text tells us the purpose up front: "God tested Abraham." The Hebrew word for "test" (nasah) does not mean to tempt to sin. God does not tempt any man (James 1:13). Rather, it means to prove, to refine, to reveal the quality of something, like a metallurgist tests gold in a crucible. God is not trying to trip Abraham up; He is showing the world, and Abraham himself, the reality of the faith God had already given him.

God's call is personal: "Abraham!" And Abraham's response is immediate and ready: "Here I am." This is the posture of a servant, attentive to his master's voice. But the command that follows is brutal in its precision. Notice the fourfold description of the victim, each phrase twisting the knife deeper into the father's heart. "Take now your son." That is hard enough. "Your only one." But wait, what about Ishmael? Ishmael had been sent away. In the line of the covenant, Isaac is the only one. He is the sole heir of the promise. "Whom you love." God acknowledges the deep, tender affection Abraham has for his boy. God is not pretending this is a small thing. "Isaac." The name itself means "laughter," a constant reminder of the joy and initial unbelief that accompanied his birth. God is asking Abraham to sacrifice the embodiment of his joy, his future, his legacy, and God's own promise.

And the required act is a burnt offering. This was the most complete and total of the sacrifices, where the entire animal was consumed on the altar, ascending to God in smoke. It was an act of total consecration and surrender. God is asking for everything. He is asking Abraham to place the promise of God on an altar and trust the God of the promise. This is the essence of all true faith. We must be willing to surrender our most cherished gifts back to the Giver, trusting that His character is more reliable than our circumstances.


Unhesitating Obedience (v. 3-6)

Abraham's response is as staggering as the command.

"So Abraham rose early in the morning and saddled his donkey and took two of his young men with him and Isaac his son; and he split wood for the burnt offering and arose and went to the place of which God had told him." (Genesis 22:3)

There is no argument. No pleading. No "Are you sure, Lord?" He doesn't sleep in, procrastinating. He rises early. This is the obedience of faith. He doesn't just passively agree; he actively prepares. He saddles the donkey. He splits the wood. Every swing of the axe on that wood must have felt like a blow to his own heart. This is not a man in a stoic trance; this is a man walking in resolute, costly obedience. He is acting on the Word of God, even though it makes no earthly sense.

The journey takes three days. Three days to think. Three days for doubt to creep in. Three days for Isaac to laugh, to ask questions, to be a boy, while his father knows what awaits them at the end of the road. On the third day, Abraham sees the place. He tells his servants to wait, and here we find the key that unlocks his thinking: "we will worship, and we will return to you" (v. 5). Notice the plural. "We will return." Abraham fully intended to kill his son, and he fully expected to come back down that mountain with him. How is this possible? The author of Hebrews tells us plainly: "He considered that God was able to raise men even from the dead, from which he also received him back as a type" (Hebrews 11:19). Abraham had reasoned this way: God promised to make a great nation from Isaac. God commanded me to kill Isaac. God cannot lie or break His promise. Therefore, God must be planning to raise Isaac from the dead. This was not a blind leap; it was a logical deduction based on the character of God. This is what faith does. It takes God at His Word and reasons from there, even when the path leads to an altar.

Then comes one of the most poignant verses in all of Scripture: "Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering and put it on Isaac his son... So the two of them walked on together" (v. 6). Here the type becomes almost transparent. Isaac, the beloved son, carries the wood for his own sacrifice up the hill of Moriah. Centuries later, another beloved Son, the only Son of the Father, would carry the wood of His own cross up that same hill, for the Temple in Jerusalem would be built on this very spot. The parallel is intentional and breathtaking.


The Question and the Prophecy (v. 7-8)

The silence is broken by the innocent question of the son.

"Then Isaac spoke to Abraham his father and said, 'My father!' And he said, 'Here I am, my son.' And he said, 'Behold, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?' And Abraham said, 'God will provide for Himself the lamb for the burnt offering, my son.' So the two of them walked on together." (Genesis 22:7-8)

Isaac is not a small child here; Jewish tradition suggests he was a young man, strong enough to carry a significant load of wood. He knows the liturgy of sacrifice. He sees the elements, but one crucial piece is missing. His question is logical, and must have been excruciating for Abraham to hear. "Where is the lamb?"

Abraham's answer is a masterpiece of faith and prophecy. "God will provide for Himself the lamb." In Hebrew, this is even more potent: Elohim yireh-lo hasseh. It can mean "God will provide the lamb for Himself" or "God will provide Himself as the lamb." Abraham spoke more truly than he knew. He was not just trying to put his son off with a pious platitude. He was declaring his bedrock conviction that God would be faithful to His own nature and provide a substitute. This statement echoes down through the centuries, finding its ultimate fulfillment in the words of John the Baptist, seeing Jesus, "Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!" (John 1:29).


The Altar, the Knife, and the Angel (v. 9-14)

The climax of the test arrives with dreadful finality.

"Then they came to the place... and Abraham built the altar there and arranged the wood and bound his son Isaac and put him on the altar, on top of the wood. And Abraham stretched out his hand and took the knife to slay his son." (Genesis 22:9-10)

Imagine the scene. The building of the altar, stone by stone. The careful arranging of the wood Isaac had carried. And then, the binding of his son. There is no record of Isaac struggling. As a young man, he could have easily overpowered his elderly father. This indicates his own willing submission to his father's will, another shadow of the one who said, "Not my will, but yours, be done." Abraham lays him on the wood and takes the knife. The hand is raised. The blade is ready to fall. This is the point of absolute surrender. Abraham has held nothing back. He has passed the test.

And at that very moment, heaven intervenes. "But the angel of Yahweh called to him from heaven... 'Do not stretch out your hand against the boy... for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only one, from Me'" (v. 11-12). The "angel of Yahweh" in the Old Testament is frequently a theophany, a pre-incarnate appearance of the Son of God. It is Christ who stops the sacrifice of the type, because He Himself will be the sacrifice of the anti-type. The test is declared complete. The proof is manifest: "now I know that you fear God." This is not new information for God, but a formal, judicial declaration. The fear of God is not a cowering dread; it is a reverential trust that results in radical obedience. Abraham has proven that he loves God more than he loves the promise of God.


Then, the provision. Abraham looks up and sees a ram caught in a thicket. A substitute has been provided. The ram dies in Isaac's place. This is the doctrine of substitutionary atonement in living drama. The innocent dies for the guilty, the substitute takes the place of the son. Abraham names the place "Yahweh Will Provide," or Yahweh-Yireh. This becomes a proverb: "In the mount of Yahweh it will be provided." And so it was. On that very mountain range, God provided His own Son as the Lamb, and there our salvation was secured.

"And Abraham called the name of that place Yahweh Will Provide, as it is said this day, 'In the mount of Yahweh it will be provided.'" (Genesis 22:14)

This is not just a name; it is a foundational declaration of God's character. Our God is a provider. He provides the test, He provides the faith to pass the test, and He provides the sacrifice. Our entire salvation, from beginning to end, is a work of His provision.


The Unbreakable Oath (v. 15-19)

Because of Abraham's faithful obedience, God responds by reaffirming His covenant promise, but this time He elevates it to the highest possible level: an oath sworn by Himself.

"By Myself I have sworn, declares Yahweh, because you have done this thing... indeed I will greatly bless you, and I will greatly multiply your seed... and your seed shall possess the gate of his enemies. In your seed all the nations of the earth shall be blessed, because you have listened to My voice" (v. 16-18). When men make an oath, they swear by something greater than themselves. But as the author of Hebrews argues, since God could swear by no one greater, He swore by Himself (Hebrews 6:13-14). This makes the covenant promise to Abraham absolutely unbreakable. It is as certain as the existence of God Himself.

The promises are expanded. Not only will his seed be numerous, but his seed will "possess the gate of his enemies." This is a promise of victory, of dominion. The gate was the seat of power and authority in an ancient city. This promise finds its ultimate fulfillment in Christ, who crushed the head of the serpent and who builds His church, against which the gates of Hell cannot prevail (Matthew 16:18).

And the central promise is repeated: "In your seed all the nations of the earth shall be blessed." The Apostle Paul tells us explicitly that this "seed" is not plural, but singular, referring to Christ (Galatians 3:16). The entire covenant with Abraham was always about Jesus. The whole point of this nation, this lineage, this history, was to bring the Messiah into the world, who would be a blessing not just for the Jews, but for all the families of the earth.

This is the heart of the matter. Abraham's faith is the model for our own. We too are justified by faith, by believing God's promise about His Son. We are called to the same kind of radical, obedient trust. God will test us. He will bring us to our own Moriahs. He will ask us to place our most cherished possessions, our ambitions, our relationships, even our own lives, on the altar. He will ask us to trust Him when nothing makes sense. And when we, by His grace, obey, we will find what Abraham found: that God is utterly faithful. We will find that on the mountain of the Lord, it will be provided. He will provide the strength, He will provide the way out, and ultimately, He has already provided the Lamb.