Today’s Word: Present

I can still remember my early school days, sitting in straight, neat rows at Herzog Elementary in north St. Louis and learning to raise my hand and say, “present” when my name was called. I think this is how we begin to learn who we are in the presence of others. “I am here,” we say, “I can speak for myself.”

There are not many Bible stories more frightening and disconcerting than the story of Abraham and Isaac. To recap: God calls (what does that actually mean?) Abraham and asks him to take his only son off into the wilderness and there sacrifice him on an altar to show God how much he loves him. It’s an abhorrent idea to us, of course, that God would ask such a thing, and it’s all the more horrific as we read the story and see in our mind’s eye the journey. Isaac himself bears the wood for the fire, and we hold our collective breath as Abraham unsheathes his knife and prepares to kill his son. He pulls up short, we know, as God tells him to put his knife away, but what does this all mean? Whether this is a historic retelling of an actual event, a story about our obedience and faithfulness to God or a literary foretelling of the sacrifice and death of Jesus, there’s truth and spiritual guidance to be found within the well-known story, however disturbing.

I am struck by the near-silence of Abraham. He says very little and who can blame him, but what he does say is important. For three times within the story (Genesis 22:1-19) he replies with the same words:

“Here I am,” he says to God, just before God gives him the instructions for the sacrifice. “Here I am,” he says to Isaac, when his son calls out to him on the journey. “Here I am,” he says again to God, just as he raises his knife. “Here I am” can be dangerous words, for they imply our presence, our willingness to listen and respond. “Here I am” are words of prayer and obedience:

Here I am, waiting to respond to your call. Tell me where you want me to go.
Here I am, give me wisdom and courage to make the right choices and turns.
Here I am, take my life, my will, my liberty, my memory, my understanding.
Here I am, give me the opportunities, people and experiences you want me to have.
Here I am, show me what it is I need to sacrifice.
Here I am, keep me open to hearing your voice.
Here I am, but please don’t give me more than I can handle with your grace.
Here I am, I want to do your will.
Here I am, send me.

Ask yourself in silence: When am I willing to say, “Here I am,” and when am I more likely to sit on my hands and pretend I’m not present? When have I ever ignored the call of God?