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Abraham and the Binding of Isaac

after Genesis 22

I cannot sleep although the moon is high.
I’m numb. Before me looms the sacred hill.
My son snores softly. I look to the sky
Submissive to God’s wish but anxious still
About the dawn. How can I do this thing?
Does love for God mean I’m no longer free?
Does faith make me a wood-doll on a string;
Or can I with respect still disagree?

My soul, though strong, must harden into stone
If I am to perform this dreaded task.
I thought Ur was behind me! Life—each bone,
Each breath—is precious! I reject the mask
Of bowing to false gods contrived for power.
I fled that blood-soaked place! How sadly strange
Ur’s back as I approach the fateful hour.
I know down to my marrow this must change.

Blood sacrifice! A payment God exacts
Demanded from the treasured son He gave
To me and Sarah. Could no other acts
Of full submission move God more and save
Our precious one? And how shall I go hence
With this dark deed a stain upon my soul?
Does Isaac’s unearned death make any sense?
How do I live past this commanded role?

What jealous God would bid this of his servant—
To calmly slaughter his own flesh and blood?
Might there be more? Might I be unobservant?
Perhaps. Yet God, once wrathful, loosed a flood
Upon the Earth and nearly wiped men out.
He is not tame. He is not sentimental.
Although God whispers, I have heard Him shout.
I fear Him even when He’s kind and gentle.

“Leave Ur,” God said. “I give you a new land
Of milk and honey. You and your descendants
Shall number as the stars, the grains of sand.”
I made a covenant: divine dependence
Where I’d be father to the tribe He raises
And we would share with men all God has said.
But how, if no one’s left to sing God’s praises?
If I am dead and Isaac’s also dead?

If I come home and tell her what I’ve done,
Poor Sarah will despair, she’ll keen and rage.
She laughed when angels said she’d bear a son,
Despite a womb made desert by old age.
Yet they were right and Isaac soon was born.
Dear Lord! We’ll, never laugh again, nor sleep!
And since God wills this how do we dare mourn?
I choke from unshed tears but must not weep.

I rumple Isaac’s hair as he sleeps still.
How can I choose between what I love most?
I’ve proven faith, Lord. Must Your jealous will
Demand I turn my son into a ghost?
Lord, would You let Your son suffer such pain?
Would You not anguish if You saw him dead?
O God, forgive me! I remember Cain.
But I can pay that debt! Take me instead!

Dear God, I pray to know Your divine mind
That I might cleave to You and never part.
Of course! There’s more here that I’m meant to find!
It’s not just faith. It has to do with heart.
You test my selflessness, not just belief!
To see if love allows a faith-based leap
Which risks two lives and many years of grief
To seed the Greatest Harvest men might reap.

I’ll raise this knife and You will raise my soul,
For it’s my selfhood I must sacrifice!
Content to freely give You all control
Of everything I am—a righteous price.
You’ll stay my knife. Your angel will appear.
My son will live. He’ll suffer no more threat.
And from this day You always shall be near.
For love and faith I’ll gladly pay this debt.

I give myself to You. And I shall tell
The world of all that You this day arrange:
I give You Isaac and my tribe as well
To prove to You how fallen men can change.
My son will live but You shall kill my pride
So that my faith in You is purified.
Upon this day when summoned forth and tried,
It shall be my self-will that will have died.

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A Far, Far Better Thing

in the voice of the unexpected hero of Dickens’ “A
Tale of Two Cities,” the dissolute lawyer, Sydney
Carton, who—for his love of Lucie Manette—
 switches places with her condemned husband.

The best of times? Or are these quite the worst?
For friends I shall concede the best, for they
Live with ripe purpose while my life is cursed.
I live for nought and failure haunts each day.
I strategize and parse through legal papers
Quite numb to how debased my skills have sunk,
Defending felons for illegal capers
As I get ever more completely drunk.
And yet, against all odds, I still feel love.
For Lucie’s sake, I must now grab this chance
To right things with my Savior up above.
My soul’s redemption calls me here to France.
A far, far better thing it is I do,
Lord God, if I give all I am to You.

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Brian Yapko is a lawyer who also writes poetry. He lives in Wimauma, Florida.

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57 Responses

  1. Bruce Phenix

    Thank you, Brian. Powerful and skilful, and full of thought and feeling. I admire what you’ve said and done in these two poems.

    Reply
  2. Roy Eugene Peterson

    Two excellent poems depicting the conflicts within while paying attention to the will of God and then reaping the rewards of faithful stewardship. The first poem would make a wonderful addition to the many sermons I have heard about Abraham’s dilemma and willingness to obey. I suspect your legal background and attorney status attracted you to the dilemma of the dissolute lawyer in the second poem.

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you very much, Roy! I was tempted to try my hand at understanding one of the most theologically problematic events in the entire Bible. What kind of just and loving God would require a faithful servant to kill his own son? How does one reconcile this? I did my best to try to resolve that question by trying to get into Abraham’s head. I wrestled with this story and his character and cannot help feeling that I fell short. Still, I put in my two cents in favor of a “leap of faith” as the answer. Two thousand years’ worth of exegesis has wrestled with this story and it remains a basically unsolvable issue.

      As for Sydney Carton in A Tale of Two Cities… yes, my own background as a lawyer has drawn me to this unexpectedly noble character. But lawyer or not, I am deeply moved by the possibility of a selfish, wasted life being redeemed by a truly selfless act, knowing in the end that it is “a far, far better thing that I do than I have ever done. It is a far, far better rest I go to than I have ever known.”

      When I submitted these poems to Evan as a pair, I suggested the theme of “sacrifice.” Paying attention to the will of God is rarely easy. But as you point out, faithful stewardship brings with it great spiritual rewards.

      Reply
  3. Drilon Bajrami

    Beautiful poems there, Brian, especially the biblical story of Isaac’s sacrifice, adding your own flair to the well-known story. Reminded me of a Kierkegaard lecture where he talks about the tale from a philosophical point of view. I should rewatch that because I don’t remember much, yet it was deep.

    As an atheist, I’ve endeavoured to read the big three religious books, as their profundity is plain to see, though, I will read them from a philsophical view point, of course. I’ve begun with the Quran, as it is the shortest of the three and I was born a muslim.

    Looking forward to more of your poetry, Brian, and out of interest, what area of law to do you practice? I went to pharmacy school, myself, but I regret not going into law to be a criminal lawyer (barrister here in the UK).

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you very much, Drilon. I think your endeavor is a worthy one and I’m grateful for your appreciation of my work. I will look forward to reading your work as well. As for law, I recently moved to Florida and now consider myself retired after a 36 year legal career. 25 of those years were in litigation and the last 11 have been devoted primarily to estate planning. Don’t regret your choice regarding not becoming a barrister. Being able to sleep at night is a valuable thing!

      Reply
      • Drilon Bajrami

        I’d say you’ve definitely earned a nice retirement after 36 years of being a lawyer! I hope you enjoy your new-found free time and spend it writing more poetry, time with friends and family, and maybe some travelling too etc.

        I’m currently on sick leave at the moment (at least this has given me the time to finish up my novel) but I hope to go into a career of teaching science while I use the free-time afforded to me to continue to write. I enjoy educating and writing so I’d be happy doing that until it’s my time to retire. Hopefully I can produce a book or two of poetry in that time, too.

  4. Margaret Coats

    Brian, the splendid Abraham poem carefully explores the mind of the man in multiple ways that explain and ultimately declare his decision.
    Biblical interpreters have argued since antiquity about what decision he actually made and why; you give a satisfying answer developed in a long process of thoughts. Nearly all modern interpreters would reject this thought process as impossible at Abraham’s time. It depends heavily, they would say, on later Jewish and Christian concepts, and even on modern psychology and sociology. Judaism says Ur’s gods are false; secular humanism says they were “contrived for power.”

    But I can accept your Abraham as the picture of a strong mind created and chosen to make this decision, and further strengthened by God’s grace through long experience of earlier tests, some of which he failed. He does not have the perfection abandoned by Adam, but you present someone worthy to be a pivotal figure in salvation history.

    Your first and last stanzas frame mental discourse moving from a possible assertion of free will to a successful decision to sacrifice self-will. The decision is not considered (as Adam’s) in terms of sin. You use the words “price” and “debt” alluding to sin (the original cause involving a need for blood sacrifice). You refer to Cain, who tried to satisfy God with unbloody (plant-based) sacrifice. But Abraham seems not to think of sin if he disobeys God, even in stanza 4 where he considers God’s wrath.

    If I may outline the poem, it begins with three question stanzas: the free will question, the Ur question, the conscience question. Stanza 4 interrupts by recalling God’s unfathomable anger. Stanzas 5 through 7 present higher questions: the mission question, the emotional question, the love question. Consideration of love leads into the prayer of stanza 8, where Abraham discovers an answer to his multifaceted questioning. In stanza 9, he decides on self-sacrifice to pay his debt. Or as he refines the decision in stanza 10, he sacrifices self-will. In these latter stanzas, he is no longer making a personal decision but seeking the nature of God’s demand.

    In stanza 7, the love question is asked of God, prefiguring the only fully satisfactory blood sacrifice for sin. This is discreetly spoken in Abraham’s love for God, suggesting but not fully imagining that God could have a Son. Yes, it was God who finally undertook the offering of His Son and did not spare Him. That’s what every Christian interpreter has to consider as implicit in the Abraham story. Brian, you did it in a gentle and human way.

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you, Margaret, for this detailed and deeply-considered analysis of “Abraham.” Your comment wonderfully details the characterization and resulting stream of thoughts that I have given Abraham. It is, of course, impossible to know what he really thought but we can imagine the soul-searching and pain that must have accompanied his obedience to God. I am especially interested in your observation that my Abraham greatly relies on subsequent Judeo-Christian thought as well as modern understanding of psychology. This is absolutely true and I wonder how it could be otherwise? I could not possibly recreate the thought process of a man who lived 4000 years ago — nor would I want to. How many modern readers, for example, have the patience to read through the roughly contemporaneous Epic of Gilgamesh?

      Furthermore, my poem is not really about understanding Abraham’s character other than its contribution to the pivotal role you accurately observe that he assumes. For me, this poem is about solving the theological riddle that this strange story represents. In my view, Abraham and Isaac are instrumentalities through which God is trying to present a point not only to them but to a future audience that only God knows. Discerning that point is what is so terribly hard in this case. But I have the benefit of knowing subsequent events — in particular, as you correctly note — his imagining that God could have a Son. While I may give Abraham insights and awareness that the historical patriarch probably could not have had, I felt it was necessary in order to address my theological explanation of the incident. This is a mystery. Why did God do it? And so my poem is about Abraham putting on his metaphorical investigator hat and coming up with a solution to the mystery.

      And what is that theological solution? In simple terms, not blind obedience but, rather, a leap of faith. And there’s a big difference between the two. Since Moses first recorded this story, most readers assume that Abraham does what he does because he fears God. My poem adds in a second component. He fears God AND he loves and trusts God enough to make a leap of faith risking what he loves the most. That is obviously a Christian-influenced view but sometimes you must take your poet as you find him. That is the source of the “gentle and human way” you describe.

      Thank you again, Margaret, for a most compelling comment!

      Reply
  5. Joshua C. Frank

    Wow, these are great, especially the first! I can completely identify with lines 29-32. I have to admit the way you expressed how he must have felt at the thought of sacrificing his son brought tears to my eyes. Obviously God never meant for Abraham to sacrifice Isaac in the first place, but only wanted Abraham to pass a test (which He knew he would, of course). I never really had a problem with it for this reason—I assumed it was something God did that was tailored to Abraham’s understanding. After all, God often speaks to people through their children (as described in my poem about Whittaker Chambers).

    I always figured Abraham was willing to go through with it because he figured it would be best for Isaac—if he did, Isaac would go straight to Heaven, presumably never having committed a serious sin, but if not, there would be the risk that Isaac might commit such a sin and end up in Hell (and this is assuming God wouldn’t destroy them both and send them to Hell the instant he said no). I can’t imagine any other way he would not have dismissed God as either deceitful or insane, as many do today.

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you very much, Josh! You zeroed in on the lines which happen to be my favorite as well. No, God never meant for Abraham to sacrifice Isaac… but what were His expectations? Abraham is stuck between the proverbial “rock and a hard place” and has no way out. He either betrays God or he betrays his son. And either way he has to live with himself. A lesser soul might well have contemplated suicide as the only way out of such a dilemma. But then the Bible would be very short!

      Your interpretation of Isaac’s purity allowing him prompt entrance into Heaven is a very intriguing one which I have never thought of. Although I think it’s brilliant, I don’t think of it as the right solution to this theological mystery for two reasons:

      1) My understanding of ancient Judaism is that it did not have a clear concept of Heaven or what happens after death. Over time, Judaism began to focus not on Heaven but on the idea of the resurrection of the dead. Resurrection becomes forceful Jewish orthodoxy closer to the period of Rabbinic Judaism, i.e. under Roman occupation and roughly contemporaneous with the beginnings of Christianity. The Christian concept of a heavenly afterlife, though obviously connected to the Jewish focus on resurrection, only becomes clear with Jesus.

      2) From a Jewish standpoint, in a post-Adamite but pre-Mosaic world, man is born into sin and the concept of baptism to forgive sins will not exist until early rabbinic Judaism, again just before Christ. (John the Baptist, remember, was a good Jew.) Isaac’s sinful nature is already embedded at birth, but since Old Testament Judaism has no developed Christian concept of Hell (as opposed to vague references to “Sheol”) Isaac’s sinful nature was unlikely to have eternal consequences as would make a youthful death spiritually advantageous. Judaism, centered as it is on the ethics of life on Earth, does not focus on what happens after death even into modern times. So although my poem is founded to some extent on Judeo-Christian concepts which come later, those concepts are only subtly alluded to here. The idea of “straight-to-heaven” as being on Abraham’s mind would, I think, be too manifestly anachronistic — at least for my taste.

      Reply
      • Joshua C. Frank

        Interesting… although I do believe there is justification for the idea in the Old Testament. For example, the famous Psalm 23 ends with the speaker saying, “I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

        Also, there’s Daniel 12:2: “And many of those that sleep in the dust of the earth, shall awake: some unto life everlasting, and others unto reproach, to see it always.”

        Catholic Bibles include the Deuterocanonical texts, as we believe these to be inspired Scripture. They include some relevant verses. One of them is Sirach (a.k.a. Ecclesiasticus) 16:4: “It is better to die without children, than to leave ungodly children.” Sirach was written around 200 BC. Another is 2 Macchabees 7, describing events around the same time, in which a mother of seven sons encourages them to die rather than transgress God’s law by eating pork.

        Verses 22-23: “She said to them: I know not how you were formed in my womb: for I neither gave you breath, nor soul, nor life, neither did I frame the limbs of every one of you. But the Creator of the world, that formed the nativity of man, and that found out the origin of all, he will restore to you again in his mercy, both breath and life, as now you despise yourselves for the sake of his laws.”

        Verse 29: “So thou shalt not fear this tormentor, but being made a worthy partner with thy brethren, receive death, that in that mercy I may receive thee again with thy brethren.”

        Verse 36: “For my brethren, having now undergone a short pain, are under the covenant of eternal life: but thou by the judgment of God shalt receive just punishment for thy pride.”

        These may not date back as far as Abraham, but they are certainly pre-Christian.

      • Brian A. Yapko

        Thank you for these verses, Josh. I agree with you about their relevance. In many ways, nothing in the New Testament lacks a precursor in the Old Testament. Perhaps the difference is what issues are spotlighted, because Judaism does not focus on the afterlife the way Christianity does. Nor is the OT as developed in the concept. The New Testament is quite different from the Old Testament in theme and focus.

      • Joshua C. Frank

        I’ve been thinking about this a lot. From what you’re saying, it sounds as if pre-Christian Judaism was a sort of contract in which the people would obey God’s laws and He would give them food, peace, and big families. I’m sure that’s true, but that being the case, why did Job stay faithful? I always assumed he did so either out of unfailing love and trust for God or because he looked to Heaven and feared Hell.

        Based on Hebrews 11, I always understood the saints of the Old Testament to have a view of God very much like the early Christians, per St. Paul’s description of them:

        Verses 13-16: “All these died according to faith, not having received the promises, but beholding them afar off, and saluting them, and confessing that they are pilgrims and strangers on the earth. For they that say these things, do signify that they seek a country. And truly if they had been mindful of that from whence they came out, they had doubtless time to return. But now they desire a better, that is to say, a heavenly country. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; for he hath prepared for them a city.”

        Verses 24-26: “By faith Moses, when he was grown up, denied himself to be the son of Pharao’s daughter; Rather choosing to be afflicted with the people of God, than to have the pleasure of sin for a time, Esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasure of the Egyptians. For he looked unto the reward.”

        Verse 35: “But others were racked, not accepting deliverance, that they might find a better resurrection.”

        Verses 39-40: “And all these being approved by the testimony of faith, received not the promise; God providing some better thing for us, that they should not be perfected without us.”

        But if they were more focused on this life, then I don’t understand these verses.

  6. Yael

    Thank you Brian, I really enjoyed these two poems. They go well together, as they reveal the ultimate human sacrifice, which is the submission of our own free will to the mind of our loving Creator and Redeemer God. Adam’s sin after he disobeyed God’s commandment was to see God as a vengeful tyrant who slays all who disobey Him. When Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit their minds became subject to the lying mind of Satan and they became afraid of God and hid themselves from Him. Jesus’ life on earth revealed the pure and loving character of His Father to mankind and all the universe. Jesus said that if you have seen Him, you have seen the Father. Jesus never killed anyone nor did He promote violence, and He put an end to the temple service of animal blood sacrifices. John 17:4 makes it clear that Jesus finished the work which His Father gave Him to do BEFORE He went to the cross. It was not the Father who demanded the death of His Son as a blood sacrifice, it was mankind under the control of Satan who killed the Son of God. In Jesus’ parable of the landowner who planted the vineyard in Matthew 21:33-41, the chief priests and the elders passed judgment on themselves based on their understanding of God’s justice, but this is not how God judges. His thoughts are higher than our thoughts. There is a mirror principle at work, whereby God shows us what is in our own hearts when He asks us to do something for Him. God took Abraham out of Ur quite easily, but it was a lot more difficult for God to take Ur (with its beliefs in a blood sacrifice demanding deity) out of Abraham. When God called Abraham and his son to the mountain to sacrifice, He drew a very deeply rooted fear out of Abraham, one which was entirely based on the lies of Satan. Up on the mountain, God then proceeded to show Abraham that this was not His way at all. In order to meet Abraham where he was, God provided a ram to help Abraham’s faith and it was counted to Abraham as righteousness. Texts such as Psalm 51:16-17, Matthew 12:7, 1 Corinthians 10:20, and others like them, help to illustrate this principle.

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      I greatly appreciate this comment, Yael, which gives something of a history of salvation and sacrifice in only a few heartfelt sentences. One thing you focus on is blood-sacrifice and how embedded this was in human thinking up to that point and right up until the time of Christ. I agree with you. God took Abraham out of Ur, but it was more difficult “to take Ur… out of Abraham.” I am in the process of reading the Bible from cover to cover (I am presently midway through Judges.) I was frankly astounded at the attention to blood sacrifices that was documented in Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy — chapter after chapter after chapter of mind-numbing and repetitive detail about the many types of sacrifice, the need for multiple animals daily for multiple slaughters (sometimes cows, sometimes goats, sometimes sheep — always first-born and/or the most unblemished — the dire consequences of failing to perform an animal sacrifice correctly, the separation of the blood, the removal of internal organs, all burned to make “a sweet scent to the Lord.” This struck me as positively prehistoric until I remembered that the norm up to that point was human sacrifice. We take it for granted, but for Jehovah to yank this instinct out of the early Jews must have taken some doing — and there was a great deal of recidivism in the long process as is documented in the Baal and Astarte worship presented throughout Judges and well into the Prophets (I recently wrote on this subject in my recent “Jeremiah” poem.) So when you say that God had to “meet Abraham where he was” I understand fully. The recognition that all of this was a necessary foundation which gave historical as well as theological heft to the ultimate blood sacrifice of God’s Son is, I believe, in itself foundational to a deep understanding of Christianity.

      Reply
  7. Joseph S. Salemi

    Brian, the poem “Abraham…” is extremely ambitious. A dramatic monologue from the mouth of a man in an impossible situation from which there is no escape presents certain structural difficulties for the poet. The speaker’s dilemma is so great (“I must obey God by killing my son”) that the first seven stanzas develop themselves in an almost operatic fashion. Abraham tortures himself with questions and fears. He cannot decide what to do. The poet in such a case usually has two choices — end the monologue by leaving the speaker in a state of uncertainty and anguish, or else resolve it in some surprising way.

    We of course know the end of the story, and how Isaac is spared. But Abraham did not, and therefore you are obliged to bring in a “deus ex machina” device in the last three stanzas. All of a sudden the speaker’s doubts and fears are resolved because he somehow knows God’s mind — an angel will appear, a ram will be found, and Isaac will live. This allows the monologue to end on a positive note. Fictively, you the poet are allowed to do that.

    But that’s not what happened in the Genesis text. Abraham was prepared to kill his son right up until the very moment that the angel stopped him from doing so. The drama of the story lies in the absolute inescapability of the test — Abraham has to be totally willing to kill his son. He cannot have the comforting foreknowledge in his mind that it is all just a test, and therefore there’s nothing to worry about. This makes the ending of your dramatic monologue disappointing by comparison.

    One metrical glitch — in the second line of the third section, a foot is missing: /Drawn from the treasured son He gave/

    Perhaps a single word could be added, such as /Drawn from the treasured, precious son He gave/

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Joe, thank you sincerely for your keen eye, careful analysis and candor. As I wrote to Roy above, there was something about this poem which was extremely challenging for me and which made me feel like I had fallen short in its execution. You have articulated what that is: in rough terms, I had painted my speaker into a corner in which the only way out was what you refer to as “deus ex machine” but which I would call “revelation.” Was it a cheat? I’m still not sure. Abraham was a man who received revelations from God. Genesis does not give a reassuring mention of such a revelation in this case. But is one precluded?

      Either way, I myself sense that it brought something inorganic into the poem. But nothing truly organic worked for me. Certainly a poem which would have brought Abraham to the other side of the angelic intervention and which relived that moment of suspense might have been interesting. And I considered that. But the best I could come up with a puffy variation on “whew, that was close!” The drama was over. Or I could have done a retelling of the story from a third person point of view. But that would have struck me as presumptuous. Why am I retelling an iconic story that is already in narrative form? My limitations as a poet are such that I could not offer any additional insight that way. I could scarcely have improved upon the Bible narrative.

      I conceived this poem hoping that I could have my speaker reason his way to a solution to his being caught between Scylla and Charibdes (if I may use a pagan reference.) I had several possibilities. I did not have to make the poem a dramatic monologue. And yet I really wanted to get into Abraham’s head and this was the only way to do it. I could have set the poem shortly after God instructed Abraham to sacrifice Isaac, but the timing seemed off and premature. I wanted Abraham to have a chance to brood about this in the presence of his beloved son. Or I could have set it after the angel’s intervention and then there would be no need for a revelation or vision. But then I would have lost the emotional drama of Abraham’s struggle: should I do it and if I do, how do I live with it? So, as you very tactfully state, the story presents “structural difficulties.” In fact, that is an understatement!

      I finally decided on the revelation because — although it mars the dramatic monologue aspect of the poem — it allows for me as poet to present my own proposed solution to what I’ve described as one of the Bible’s most profound theological mystery. In doing so, I seized upon one small detail. Abraham’s foreknowledge is not completely without foundation — as Susan notes, he does tell Isaac that God will provide the ram, and I see no indication that Abraham is lying when he says this. So I used that small detail to weave trust in God’s mercy and a leap of faith into Abraham’s thinking. It’s the only thing that made sense to me other than blind obedience. And blind obedience would be a miserable subject for a dramatic monologue.

      Nevertheless, I was and remain ambivalent about my solution and the revelation. You have perceptively picked up on this ambivalence within the text itself. But to me the poem’s admitted imperfections are an acceptable trade-off. As I explained to Margaret above, I did not write Abraham to be an authentic Second Millenium B.C. thinker and, frankly, had no interest in even making the attempt. I wanted to explore the idea of Abraham and the sacrifice of Isaac as a step in the chain that leads to a much greater sacrifice 2000 years later. But in doing so I sacrificed authenticity by not sticking strictly to the text and by writing with the benefit of Judeo-Christian hindsight. Perhaps most unforgivably, I undercut the nail-biting shock and horror inherent to the raising of Abraham’s sword. I can see why you were disappointed. But I believe I made this choice rationally and for a good cause. Although this is perhaps not my best poem, it was certainly my most challenging and one in which I feel I met my goal.

      On a related subject, I am presently reading the Bible. After I got through the Books of Exodus through Deuteronomy I was struck by how very different the mindset was of the authoritarian and sometimes bloodthirsty Moses — who we accept as author of these books! — versus the socially-conscious, liberty and justice-loving depiction of Charlton Heston’s Moses in DeMille’s Ten Commandments. This depiction may not be accurate but it’s beloved nonetheless.

      My point here. What fidelity do we owe our source material? Joe, you’ve raised an extremely important point on the subject of poetry which is related to your recent essay: despite our best efforts, how can we fail to bring ourselves into our work? To what extent should we make the attempt?

      And lastly, thank you for noting that missing foot. Mike graciously fixed it for me.

      Reply
    • Margaret Coats

      Brian, as I read your poem, you are faithful to the text on which it is based. That is precisely because Genesis 22 shows Abraham with confidence based in faith AND perfect obedience to God’s demand. These things are often unrecognized when readers focus solely on the psychological difficulty of the situation for Abraham. Your poem does that legitimately, because literature enables us to enter into the minds of others. But please notice, Genesis 22 says NOTHING about Abraham’s difficulty. It shows him confident in faith and perfect in obedience. You have spoken of “God will provide” in verse 8 as the detail supporting your explanation of his confident faith. As well, in verse 5, Abraham tells his young men to stay with the ass. He says, “I and the boy will go with speed as far as yonder, and after we have worshipped, we will return to you.” Isaac will not be holocaust ashes when Abraham returns. This is spoken just following the moments of your poem–on the morning when the sacrifice is to be made. As to the completion of worship, the angel [representing God] says in verse 12, “Thou hast done this thing, and hast not spared thy only begotten son.” In the New Testament, James 2:21 says the same. Abraham did offer up Isaac his son upon the altar. Moses and the Apostle agree in giving Abraham credit for the sacrifice of Isaac. The dramatic moment in Genesis 22 is verse 10, where Abraham “sends forth his hand and takes the knife to slaughter his son.” His determination is perfect. It is not just play-acting to construct the altar, lay the wood in order upon it, bind Isaac, and lay Isaac on the wood. The sacrifice is made when the knife is in the hand. Yet as verses 5 and 8 have indicated, Abraham does not expect Isaac to die.

      Your poem, Brian, explains how to interpret the text which is contradictory or ambiguous in itself. I first realized that when I read a chapter of Genesis in Hebrew each Saturday for a year. The knife or sword is never raised. That’s legitimate interpretation by painters, but it’s not in the text. What you do is supply emotional background not in the Bible. Your “revelation” is a good solution to the problem of why verse 5 explicitly anticipates both the sacrifice accomplished, and Isaac alive afterward.

      I read your poem finding both of these things in Abraham’s mind. His credit for performing the sacrifice is there, because in sacrificing his self-will, he sacrifices the desire for Isaac to live. Yet as he and his son go toward the mountain, he knows both of them will return. You have him see that God’s angel will appear and make that possible. That’s what the text does not say, but it is not precluded by what the text does say. Something must happen, and verisimilitude is best satisfied by reference to the angel. Within this chapter, God speaks to Abraham, but the angel also says, “Thou hast not spared thy son for MY sake.” The visible angel manifests the unseen God.

      With regard to Abraham’s thoughts, as you present them, reflecting religion and psychology of a later time period, that is the privilege of literature. And your interpretation favoring faith with foresight over obedience is acceptable. You say you are avoiding blind obedience as a motive, but recall that obedience can be informed. And faith can be blind. You are not correct in thinking that most past interpreters thought Abraham obeyed out of fear. History of interpretation of this passage emphasizes faith and obedience equally. The Apostle James whom I quoted gives Abraham’s obedience in this very matter as the prime example of a work that renders faith living rather than dead.

      For my own interpretation of your poem, I’ll say more clearly that you are not dealing with just any test of faith, but with one unique in history. In this story Abraham translates faith from intellectual belief into extreme lived experience, both for himself and as an example to the world. He becomes Father of the Faithful in a way that no other human being (except the Blessed Virgin Mary) was ever asked to do. There is no reason you should not address this topic with every consideration the later faithful might bring to it. The words of the story (verses 5, 8, and 12) support your words.

      Reply
      • Brian A. Yapko

        Thank you very much, Margaret, for this additional comment and your many insights on Abraham. I very much like your point that the sacrifice is perfect and “the sacrifice is made when the knife is in the hand. It is good to know that my intuitive view here actually has Biblical and scholarly support.

      • Joseph S. Salemi

        Margaret, your reading of the text seems to be a kind of special pleading, designed to ignore elements that don’t favor a certain religious viewpoint.

        You say that verse 5 and verse 8 indicate Abraham’s certainty that his son Isaac will not be killed. But all that verse 5 does is tell the waiting attendants to stay with the ass, and that he and Isaac will return. And certainly this can more easily be read as a convenient lie, designed to keep the attendants away. Would anybody say “I must go slaughter my son for a burnt offering, so please wait here until the job is completed”? Verse 8 similarly can be read as a deception — Abraham answers his son’s question with something he doesn’t really know or perhaps even believe (i.e. that “God will provide a lamb for the burnt offering.”) Would any father say “Sorry kid — you’re the sacrificial offering”?

        As for verse 10, I think it is a real obstacle to your reading. Abraham put forth his hand, and took the knife TO SLAY HIS SON. This indicates intention and will. How can you set up an altar of sacrifice, get the wood ready, bind your son up, and draw forth a knife, while at the same time thinking that your son will not die and you will both return to the waiting attendants? It simply is not logical.

        If you have the will to obey, the intention to carry out a divine command, and the means before you (which you yourself have prepared), how can it possibly be argued that you do NOT foresee your son’s death at your hands? And if you have the faith to think that nothing of the sort will happen because you are certain that God will step in and stop the sacrifice, or save your son in some unknown manner, then how is it a test at all, rather than just a charade?

      • Susan Jarvis Bryant

        Joe, I know your comment is for Margaret, but I would like to thank you for clarifying something I wrestled with. As I’ve said in my comment below, Abraham believed God to be a just God, and He hoped with all his heart that God, who gave him his favorite son, would not take that gift away… BUT that does not mean that it wasn’t a very strong possibility. Otherwise, as you quite rightly say, the test would have been “just a charade.” Abraham had faith in God, which meant he had to carry out God’s will.

        When “Abraham put forth his hand, and took the knife TO SLAY HIS SON” it makes perfect sense to me that it was intentional… and what a gift he received… the God he knew to be just, showed both Abraham and Isaac exactly who He was.

        I’m still thinking, I’m still reading, and I’m still learning… such are the benefits of the SCP.

      • Joshua C. Frank

        It seems to me that Hebrews 11:17-19 provides an answer to that: “By faith Abraham, when he was tried, offered Isaac: and he that had received the promises, offered up his only begotten son; (To whom it was said: In Isaac shall thy seed be called.) Accounting that God is able to raise up even from the dead.”

        From this, I understand that Abraham reconciled God’s command with His promise by assuming that God would raise Isaac from the dead. Considering that this had never yet happened in human history (at least as far as the Bible says), that was a huge leap of faith, most likely beyond what anyone else in the world could have done.

      • Joseph S. Salemi

        Joshua, once again this is special pleading, designed to save the appearances and make the text palatable. The plain sense of the text is that Abraham knew what he was ordered to do, and was utterly prepared to do it without the slightest hope that his son would be alive afterwards. He lied to the attendants about how he and the child would be coming back; and he lied to Isaac by telling him that God would provide a victim. The ending of the tale is pure “deus ex machina.”

      • Joshua C. Frank

        Then how do we reconcile the Old Teatament text and the New Testament text?

      • Joseph S. Salemi

        Susan, thanks for your comment. I think it is absolutely clear (if the idea of “obedience” means anything at all) that Abraham had the will and intention and resolution to kill his son Isaac, and did not have it in the back of his mind that somehow it would “all turn out alright.” If he did have such a conviction, then the test would be meaningless.

        A much more powerful story of faith is that of Job, whom God savagely raked over the coals of torment, for no other reason than to win a bet with Satan.

      • Joseph S. Salemi

        Joshua, our job is not to “reconcile texts.” That’s where all this tortured special pleading comes in!

      • Joshua C. Frank

        I don’t understand. We hold the Old Testament text and the New Testament text both to be inspired Scripture and therefore true. They seem on the surface to be saying contradictory things. What are we supposed to do with this fact?

      • Mike Bryant

        Josh,
        Speaking of Isaac, Sir Isaac Newton was, by many accounts, a man of unparalleled genius. He worked out gravitation and calculus. He also greatly contributed to the science of optics. He examined alchemy and found it wanting. Newton spoke Latin and Greek. He had access to many of the Scriptural texts in Hebrew and Aramaic and most of the translations into Latin and Greek along with their provenance.
        He placed his towering knowledge, intuition and wisdom into a study of the Scriptures that lasted most of his lifetime. Newton had no problem with the scriptures and the continuity between the Hebrew and the Aramaic.
        If you, or anyone else, can get access to his complete writings on the Scriptures, I would love to get a copy of it.

      • Joseph S. Salemi

        Joshua, if that’s the only contradiction you’ve found, you’re lucky. This entire line of argument is leading right back to my point that it is not our job as men and women of letters to manipulate various texts to make them say what we want them to say, or what we think our local bishops wants them to say.

      • Margaret Coats

        Brian, thank you. Joseph, with Susan and Joshua following quickly, I am happy to do some further discussion, but only as time permits on this holy day. In regard to Joseph’s accusation of special pleading, that is correct. I am answering him. I have spoken as a literary critic outlining elements of the text of Genesis 22, and of further material, that could support Brian Yapko’s imagined “revelation” received by Abraham. I do not make my own interpretation of Genesis 22. Nor am I speaking from “a certain religious point of view.” Listen more carefully. I have pointed out that Genesis 22 literally says NOTHING about the mental state or thought processes of Abraham. That means Brian is free to imagine as he likes, with nothing precluded by the text. Joseph imagines that verses 5 and 8 have a certain meaning other than the literal, and that Abraham must have spoken them with a certain purpose and from a certain logical point of view. I have said what they “indicate” on the literal level. With regard to verse 10, I have already said Abraham takes the knife to “slaughter” his son. It is the word used for slaughtering an animal. Reading on the literal level, it is a verb of intent, and I have said Abraham’s determination is perfect.

        The reading that matters here is the reading of Brian’s poem. Brian, I believe, meant his Abraham to know ahead of time that God would intervene and prevent the slaughter of Isaac. That’s the “revelation” Abraham receives, and as Joseph expresses it, this is a “deus ex machina.” It certainly is, in the literal reading of that expression and this text. I do not think foreknowledge necessarily canceled Abraham’s intent. As I have pointed out, God through the words of the angel in verse 12 accepts the sacrifice of Isaac as having been made (and I also bring in James 2:21 on the completion of the sacrifice). The slaughter did not happen, but the sacrifice was made. That’s my reading of Brian’s poem. Brian’s description of the thought process in which this happened does not come from Genesis 22, but again, I say nothing in the text makes it impossible. Most of us might say Abraham did not sacrifice Isaac. But Brian finds a psychological process to explain that he did, and the text (i.e., God and angel) agree that he did.

      • Brian A. Yapko

        Thank you Joe, Margaret, Josh and Susan for these additional thoughts which go far beyond my poem into the text of Genesis itself. I have read some spirited thoughts expressed. I have my own spirited thoughts to express and hope they will be taken in the spirit of friendly debate.

        First, this very comment thread is a micro- proof of the controversy – and passions – that this event in the Bible has raised in the 3000 years since Moses transcribed it (with Genesis being the first of what Jews regard as The Five Books of Moses.) There are orthodox views regarding Abraham’s actions, attitudes and knowledge and there are heterodox views. There are Christian views and I know first-hand that there are volumes and volumes of rabbinic views. This is one of the reasons I consider this story to be something of a theological Rorschach test. Because I have encountered so many interpretations of the event and what it means, I felt as a poet that I had the creative latitude to offer my own interpretation of what I perceive as a mystery – especially coming at this mystery from the relatively unique perspective of a man raised Jewish but who ultimately became a Christian. I’m not entitled to my own facts, but I’m entitled to my own opinion – especially if it’s supportable.

        How supportable must that opinion be in the context of literature? For reasons I will state below, I think … pretty darn compelling. But before I get there, let me observe that there is not a movie or a television show or play or novel or a poem that is based on the Bible that does not have a great deal of extra-biblical material, whether it is Lew Wallace’s “Ben Hur”, Dorothy Clarke Wilson’s “Prince of Egypt.” John Dryden’s “Absalom and Achitophel” or Cecil B. DeMille’s “Ten Commandments.” Or Milton’s “Paradise Lost.” Or “Jesus Christ Superstar”. Or Bock and Harnick’s musical “The Apple Tree.” Or Richard Rodgers’ “Two by Two.” Or, as we recently discussed on these pages, Oscar Wilde’s “Salome.” All such pieces are biblically themed, and not one – no, not even Milton – can be taken as good exegesis. I would like to think my “Abraham and the Binding of Isaac” is in good company as it comes out of my imagination and is, as I’ve said in several comments, represents my “solution” to a theological mystery rather than a literal retelling of the Abraham/Isaac story. I rather made a point of NOT simply retelling the Bible narrative because it already speaks for itself. Rather, it was my desire to get into Abraham’s mind – a FICTIVE Abraham, because I wasn’t there and I have no interest in trying to understand the Gilgamesh-like thought patterns of people 4000 years ago. I have created a poetic character and I have tried to imagine how he would have felt with this awful divine commission and how he might have found a way to live with it. A way which may be seen as taking liberties with the orthodox (not heterodox) views on the story but which does NOT contradict an existing text which is susceptible to more than one reading. A way which, incidentally, has the poetic and theological advantage of foreshadowing Christ’s sacrifice and thereby reconciling Old and New Testaments.

        Much is said about Abraham’s comments to his servants about his and Isaac’s return as well as to Isaac about the ram. Much as C.S. Lewis says of Jesus Christ Himself, Abraham is either telling the truth, he’s lying, or he’s delusional. Well, let’s look at delusional. Perhaps he is lying to himself and not to Isaac and his servants. Perhaps he is a corollary to Anne Baxter in The Ten Commandments who enters into a fantasy to cope with the imminent 10th plague and says “your God will not kill my son” and she repeats it over and over. She’s not a liar but she (forgive the pun) is the queen of denial. It’s what she wants to believe. That is not the poem I wrote, but it shows that when addressing Isaac and the servants, Abraham could have meant what he said in good faith even if there was no realistic foundation for it (which I dispute.)

        So now we’re down to two choices: Abraham is a liar or Abraham is telling the truth. Now I put on my lawyer hat to decide which. Yes, Abraham might be fibbing to get Isaac and the servants off his back. There are even three-line Facebook memes that say Abraham was a liar, David a murderer, Noah a drunk, etc. But if you actually read it, there is no foundation in the Bible for Abraham being a liar (other than two God-approved instances and, crucially, for the protection of Sarah.) The Bible paints individuals in very specific strokes. Abraham’s character is presented as that of a courageous prophet and not a con-man. In contrast, Jacob’s lies are selfish and emphasized. King David’s lies are selfish and emphasized. Cain was a liar. Adam and Eve were liars. But Noah was not a liar. And Abraham was (despite the impossibly shallow Facebook memes,) not a liar. Would a man who argued with God face-to -face and who banished his servant and his first born Ishmael, really be so cowardly as to lie to anyone so that he didn’t have to face consequences – especially when his actions were directed by God? And his Ur-based servants would have been completely familiar with human sacrifice? Again, as I read through the Old Testament, I note each author of the various books of the Bible to be quite specific when it identifies someone as being a liar. Delilah was a liar. Saul was a liar. Abraham – never identified as a liar except for those two occasions. Prophet, yes. Negotiator, yes. Pioneer, yes. Liar, not so much. His credibility is, as I read Genesis, if not completely untarnished, nevertheless fully rehabilitated and theologically important by the time we get to Isaac. He is regarded as a virtuous man.

        On the other hand, there is a considerable foundation for Abraham’s character being that of a negotiator (e.g. the attempted stay of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. Or for purchase of the land he uses to bury Sarah.) So why would we not consider the possibility of Abraham making a bargain with God as he does in the final stanzas of my poem? Is that actually not more plausible than him being considered a gutless liar? Given his bravery in arguing with God over Sodom, and in leaving Ur to go to (literally) God-knew-where, is his character as a courageous negotiator rather than as a liar actually not more… textually supported?

        And as we ponder this question, there is something most important to the entire narrative of the Bible, from Genesis to Revelation: God makes the following promise to Abraham in Genesis 17: “God said to Abraham, “I will change the name of Sarai, your wife. Her new name will be Sarah. I will bless her. I will give her a son, and you will be the father. She will be the mother of many nations. Kings of nations will come from her.” Abraham bowed face down on the ground and laughed. He said to himself, “Can a man have a child when he is 100 years old? Can Sarah give birth to a child when she is 90?” Then Abraham said to God, “Please let Ishmael be the son you promised.” God said, “No. Sarah your wife will have a son, and you will name him Isaac. I will make my agreement with him. It will be an agreement that continues forever with all his descendants.”

        Why would we not consider this passage to be of extraordinary importance in offering insight into God’s and Abraham’s thinking? In fact, why is it not definitive?

        God has told Abraham that Isaac will live, that God will make an agreement with him and that he will have many descendants. Is this not exactly what is stated in my poem? This rather important covenant coupled with the promise of the ram that Abraham describes makes it seem to me quite possible that Abraham acted with a leap of faith, knowing that his faith could potentially be misplaced — in which case Isaac would die. But also believing in God’s goodness and that his God was not a fraudulent God who played games with false representations. At a minimum, I think any interpretation of what Abraham knew and/or believed is ambiguous at best. This ambiguity is one of the reasons why this particular Bible passage has caused so much controversy through the millenia. And, in my view, this ambiguity gave me latitude to write whatever I wanted to write on the subject. As for the revelation… Abraham was a prophet. Aren’t revelations part and parcel of the job description? Are the only revelations Abraham had the ones that are documented?

        Finally, there is the idea that Abraham’s foreknowledge would negate his pain and fear. This I do not understand. Even if Abraham believed (hoped?) that God would spare Isaac at the last minute, why would this negate his fear and anxiety? I know that a parachute is likely to prevent me from dying if I jump out of a plane, but I’m still going to be terrified and wonder if I’m about to die if I make that leap. Or, perhaps more pertinent, let’s go back to the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus knows he is to be arrested, tried and crucified. And resurrected. Does Christ’s knowledge of a happy ending in any way negate the agony he felt either in the Garden or on the Cross? Foreknowledge is given in the Bible many times and never does it negate the pain or worry associated with the foreseen event. In the Bible people sometimes know the future but it changes nothing. Peter knows he is to betray Jesus three times before the cock crows. If he already knows it, maybe he should cut himself some slack and not feel guilty about it when it actually happens because it’s destined. And yet he cries bitterly. God tells Moses that he will lead the people out of Egypt, but Moses still stutters when he faces Pharaoh. Foreknowledge gives no one a pass and does not negate free will nor does it numb emotions. So what makes Abraham and Isaac different here?

        And why does it matter? I return to a question I asked in a prior comment: how much fidelity do we owe to original source material? Especially when that source material itself is ambiguous?

        Thank you for letting me get some of my own thoughts down regarding both the passage in Genesis and my fictionalized poetic interpretation of it.

  8. Gigi Ryan

    Thank you. This meditation makes the story so person as he listens to his son snore and tousles his hair.
    The line, “Take me instead,” gave me chills.
    Your beautiful poem left me in awe.

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you very much, Gigi! I hoped to convey the love between father and son and so am pleased that you focused on those little details of familial affection. Speaking of families, I very much enjoyed your moving poem to your mother today.

      Reply
  9. Cynthia Erlandson

    This is a virtuoso presentation of some of the agonizing thoughts that most certainly must have run through Abraham’s mind — and most probably caused his heart to speed up, as well. The thought that he feels he is still, ironically, in Ur, is profound. “He is not tame. He is not sentimental. / Although God whispers, I have heard him shout.” is one of my favorite parts. This story is, I think, the most gut-wrenching story in the Old Testament. And I think it is meant to be, since it is such a strong foreshadowing of Christ’s sacrifice. It is a brave poet who would attempt to expound upon it, and you have done it exceptionally well. Have you thought about trying to do a second part from the point of view of Isaac? I’ve always wondered about how (or if) he ever overcame the PTSD that he must have experienced.

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you so much, Cynthia, for this generous comment. I’m really pleased that you liked my discussion of Ur. I am intrigued by the idea that geographic places can leave a mark on our souls — for good or for bad. We can physically leave but there are certain places that will never leave us. I’m also really glad that you liked the “He is not tame…” lines. I was inspired to write this part by C.S. Lewis, for in several of the Narnia books his characters observe that Aslan, “is not a tame lion.” I’ve long pondered what that meant and now I think I finally understand.

      As for that sequel idea regarding Isaac — thank you! No, I had not thought of doing it but now that you mention it, I think it’s a great idea. With your blessing, I think I’d like to give it a try.

      Reply
      • Cynthia Erlandson

        That’s great — I would love to see what you make of it!

  10. Susan Jarvis Bryant

    Brian, as ever your poems are smooth, admirably crafted, and thought provoking… especially ‘Abraham and the Binding of Isaac’, which taps into so many questions that have been swirling in my mind for many years.

    You always make your characters so relatable… and Abraham’s love for Isaac is heartbreakingly palpable in lines that use words to maximum effect by building a picture of that special father-son bond, and the handwringing, heart wrenching angst that goes with that unthinkable task.

    Your poem is ambitious, and for me it works. I believe your message holds great weight for a couple of reasons. When Isaac asked his father where the lamb was for the burnt offering, Abraham answered that God would provide the lamb. To me, it makes perfect sense that Abraham’s faith was in his belief in God’s ultimate decision… he knew God well enough to know He was a just God. I believe Isaac cooperated with Abraham in God’s trial. He was a strong young man… strong enough to carry the wood up a mountain, and strong enough to resist being bound by his 100 plus year-old father.

    Brian, your words put new perspective on the story for me… I believe Abraham would have gone all the way in offering Isaac as a sacrifice, and I believe Isaac’s faith was strong enough to know that whatever happened, Abraham and God were right. These words: “You’ll stay my knife. Your angel will appear. /My son will live.” say it all for me. They foretell of God sacrificing His only begotten Son and of eternal life for the faithful. I’m still thinking and still wondering at the marvel of your multi-layered poem.

    ‘A Far, Far Better Thing’ is somewhat overshadowed by the enormity of the message in the first poem, but it’s beautiful in its own right. It speaks of love and the sacrifice made in its name in words that shine in a sonnet that sings. I especially love the closing couplet. For me, both poems have an awful lot to say about faith… and for me, this says it perfectly: “A far, far better thing it is I do,/
    Lord God, if I give all I am to You.”

    Both poems make me want to strive to be a better person and to seek a much closer relationship with God. I appreciate your creative skill, but these poems go way beyond that for me… and I thank you for the journey!

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Susan, thank you so much for this generous comment! There’s so much I want to say here. First, thank you for reading and commenting on “A Far, Far Better Thing.” I had recently read “A Tale of Two Cities” for the first time (before that I had only ever seen the 1935 Ronald Colman movie) and I found myself deeply moved by the the dissolute Sydney Carton’s unexpected nobility and his well-masked but discernably deep faith and kind heart. Towards the end of the novel, his decision made, Carton repeatedly quotes the Gospel of John (“I am the resurrection and the life…”) and the more I reflected on this passage the more I realized how much I wanted to write about how a noble act in life may echo into eternity. Plus there’s no theme I love more than that of “redemption.”

      On the subject of “Abraham…” I appreciate your recognition (along with that of other readers) on its ambitious subject matter. It’s true… I knew I was taking on more than I might be able to deliver on so I’m so glad that it works for you. I still have some ambivalence about it, but I’m glad I took the risk. And what do they say? If you want to make an omelet some eggs have to get broken.

      I am particularly grateful for your recollection of the Biblical incident in which Abraham answers Isaac’s question with a confident “the Lord will provide.” That confidence is critical to an understanding of my characterization of Abraham. It is not a lie to keep Isaac compliant — it’s his truth. Of course it could merely be wishful thinking, but I don’t think so. I think Abraham now trusts God so implicitly he’s willing to make a leap of faith. And I love what you say about Isaac’s compliance and cooperation. I forgot how incredibly old Abraham was! Of course Isaac could have rebelled and overpowered him. But he didn’t. And that, I think, will be the subject of a subsequent poem which Cynthia Erlandson’s comment has inspired me to consider.

      I’m not sure I agree with you that Abraham would have gone through with the sacrifice if there had been no intervention. Actually, I’m not sure I disagree with you either. This is also a tough, ambiguous part of the story which I find inscrutable. If it had been me in Abraham’s place I might well have raised the knife and at the last minute turned it upon myself rather than try to live with pain of having killed my own son. But that raises a whole different set of theological questions. Still, this episode in the Bible seems to be something of a theological Rorschach test in which there are as many interpretations of it as there are readers.

      Thank you for your final comments which deeply move me. That you actually find my work motivational is so deeply satisfying to me. As a poet that is the reaction one hopes and prays for and so rarely achieves. Thank you for that!

      Reply
  11. C.B. Anderson

    Once again< Brian, you have left me wondering how many hours you invest per week in doing research for, and in the execution of, your remarkably masterful pieces. It's none of my business, but however long it takes, it is time well spent. Margaret (above) mentions sacrifice. Jordan Peterson has some good takes on sacrifice, and he even regards circumcision as a blood sacrifice. Your longer poem reads like an introspective drama. You always raise the bar, but you never move the goalposts. Just keep doing what you're doing.

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you very much indeed, C.B., for this generous comment! I have never stopped to think about how much time I actually invest in a poem. Some, like my Lahaina and Israel poems, get done in 45 minutes and practically write themselves. Abraham took weeks from the initial conception to final submitted version. I have a low attention span so a few minutes here a few minutes there. Plus I had to go back and read the Bible story as well as some commentary on it. In lawyer terms, it would be interesting to actually total up the “billable hours” on a given piece because I have no idea. The reason I have no idea is because I actually enjoy writing poetry! Everything else is something of a slog. Thank you again for the encouragement!

      Reply
  12. Allegra Silberstein

    Oh, Brian, so many have spoken your praise and with all I agree. The first poem was heart rending and beautiful in its exploration of faith and second lovely as well …Allegra

    Reply
  13. Julian D. Woodruff

    What a mighty pair, Brian! You home in beautifully on the most essential aspect of Carton (and point of A Tale). Your take on Abraham is very powerful, and I’ve found the discussion it has elicited thought-provoking. The man of sorrow and the just man condemned (for in these Abraham is a type of Jesus) are both carved in beautiful language, and with the epiphany at the 8th stanza the poem truly soars.

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you so much, Julian! I am glad for your comment on the “man of sorrow and just man condemned” for the connections between Carton’s story and Abraham’s story are fairly deep. Both stories are strongly connected to Jesus. Dickens in “A Tale of Two Cities’ skillfully weaves the subject of martyrdom and resurrection throughout the novel, culminating in Carton’s death but one which looks forward to new life. Though this may not be well-remembered by readers, resurrection is a very prominent aspect of the story, highlighted by Carton’s multiple references to John: “I am the resurrection and the life…” . And there is no question that a Christian reading of the Abraham story sees it as a foreshadowing of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross. I am very pleased that these poems were published together for this reason.

      Reply
      • Julian D. Woodruff

        Thanks for the reminder of Dickens’s allusions. If I’d read the novel 5 years ago I might well have forgotten them. As it is, it’s close to 65.

  14. Warren Bonham

    It’s impossible to add anything intelligent or insightful to the comments that have already been made above so I’ll just pile on with more praise for what you have accomplished with these 2 works. The first poem especially was very ambitious and would have deterred most people from making the attempt but you pulled it off very well.

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you very much indeed, Warren! I certainly gave it my best effort!

      Reply
  15. Satyananda Sarangi

    Sir,

    Your poems have always been spiritually powerful – the real poetry one should seek to get out of darkness.

    Thanks for these gems.

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you very much for your kind comment, Satyananda! I especially appreciate what you say about seeking to get out of darkness.

      Reply
  16. Michael Vanyukov

    It is a very interesting and finely written interpretation of the Akeda, indeed mysterious as Abraham was asked to violate the Do Not Murder commandment, which Abraham had surely known, even hundreds years before Moses. I think, Abraham knew that the lamb would never be Isaac: he was a prophet, he knew that G-d can’t violate His own laws, and when he was responding to Isaac’s question his “my son” was addressing Isaac rather than equating Isaac with the lamb. So, even if Abraham might not have been certain that G-d’s demand would be canceled, he might have had a really strong hope that he would not have to do a human sacrifice contradicting G-d’s own ethics, and his assurance to Isaac regarding lamb was not a lie on his part.

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you, Michael, for your kind comment and your additional insights. I tend to agree with you. Abraham was a prophet and, moreover, G-d was very explicit that He would make Abraham the father of a nation. Given his and Sarah’s advanced age, this could only happen through Isaac, who was already something of a “miracle baby.” Isaac’s life was too important to the narrative the Lord Himself was planning. Plus the idea of contradicting the “do not kill” ethos would have been greatly confusing to Abraham but for his leap of faith that G-d would do the right thing and not contradict Himself. As you point out, this is long before Moses and the revelation of the Ten Commandments. But it is long after Cain and Abel. The intentional, non-penal killing of another human being was wrong even if it had not been articulated into law at that point.

      Reply
      • Michael Vanyukov

        Sure. Exactly. That’s why the commandment in Hebrew unequivocally says, “Do not murder” rather than “Do not kill.” Thank you again for a wonderful retelling of a great story.

  17. Margaret Coats

    Brian, let me express again my admiration for your poems and as well for your mighty defense of Abraham. I notice that you briefly mention his hope. Let me say more.

    Can Abraham’s words in Genesis 22:5 and 8, that literally hope for Isaac to live, be taken as honest hope, or does Abraham’s real intent to sacrifice his son mean these words must be considered lies and deception? They cannot be taken as honest hope if Abraham’s intent derives from obedience without faith. But if Abraham has faith that God’s promises will be fulfilled, he has faith that Isaac will live. There can be a “hope against hope” that some unknown thing will prevent Isaac’s death. This kind of hope can and does exist in human beings, along with a contrary rational expectation. It can persist right up to the moment of expected disaster.

    But what kind of faith (or religious belief) could possibly account for the joy Abraham experiences at the end of the poem? Brian, this is unique. It seems that an intellectual understanding of God’s purpose delights him so greatly that he might lose the intent to sacrifice Isaac. Does this understanding render a test of faith non-existent here?

    In the book “Happiness and Christian Hope,” William Marra explains how faith becomes a genuine source of happiness. His is a philosophic analysis that does not consider religion at all in its first half, and thus could apply to Abraham. I quote from the point where Marra warns that religion as such provides only passing and insecure joys. One may agree or disagree with Marra and his mentor Dietrich von Hildebrand, whose ideas he claims to develop in this book. But the following argument is relevant to the thoughts of Abraham as described in Brian’s poem.

    “No man is justified in framing any belief or theory except on the basis of evidence that impels intellectual assent. Only when he is convinced that certain things are so, only when the fact of reality has satisfied the canons of truth, only then can what he knows rejoice him. If an outsider (the reader, perhaps) does not share the belief of the man in question, the most he can do is say he disputes the basis for the other man’s happiness. Nevertheless, that reader must agree to what has been our point all along, namely, that genuine deep joy is intelligibly linked to the motivating object.”

    This is the kind of joy Brian shows in Abraham. An intellectual chain of thought arises from doubts that God’s request is in accord with human free will and natural morality. Abraham also sees the command to sacrifice Isaac as falsifying promises God has made to him personally, most especially of his being a blessing to the world. Up to this time, Marra might say, Abraham has feasted on shallower joys of choosing to lead a good life and believing himself favored by God. At this point, he becomes convinced that God’s will is best and that his own self-will for Isaac to live must be sacrificed.

    Brian shows this as an intellectual understanding supported by perception that Isaac will live (itself based on God’s prior promises). This perception in context is less a “revelation” than an instance of continued faith in God. Yet Abraham intends to perform the commanded sacrifice. He knows his intent to do so is necessary in obedience to prove that he has sacrificed his self-will.

    God demands both the intent to OBEY and the FAITH in Isaac’s continued life (which is necessary for the divine promises to be fulfilled). Recall that in Genesis 22:12 the angel appears precisely to say Abraham has NOT withheld his son. Brian has Abraham plan to take the knife knowing that God will stay it. Brian has Abraham understand that the angel, a visible manifestation of God, will appear. This is all Abraham must do to pass the double test of faith and obedience, as the history of Christian commentary on this passage strongly says he did. To insist that the intent was a bloody mindset fully devoted to death is to say Abraham failed the test. Brian’s poem, instead, outlines the process of intellectual assent that gives happiness and hope in the midst of suffering.

    This is indeed a great and unique test of faith. Job is not comparable, although his sufferings were intense. He was not asked to sacrifice his 10 children. The proper comparison, as I said earlier, is the Blessed Virgin Mary. She too maintained faith despite watching the suffering and death of her Son. According to Catholic teaching, she was asked to consent to the death, just as Abraham was. In her sinless sensitivity and perfect lucidity of intellect, she suffered more than he, despite foreknowledge and perfect hope that He would live on.

    Brian, your poem is thoroughly successful in fidelity to our patriarch’s faith, obedience, and suffering attributable to love for his son and for God. The wonder of it is that you included so much,

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you very much indeed, Margaret, for these additional insights into my poem. I quite agree about the Virgin Mary as a true corollary who maintained her faith but indeed faced a far greater suffering. It has just occurred to me that, in addition to her many other theological roles, she was also a prophetess given her interactions with God, the Father through His angels as well as through her own Son. Is this a recognized attribute of Our Lady?

      I am also intrigued by your discussion of Abraham’s joy. To be honest, I did not plan that reaction out intellectually at all — it came spontaneously to me as a writer. I conceived it rather instinctively as something of an ecstatic reaction to Abraham’s being allowed a small window into the Mind of God. I’ve seen cinematic depictions of such ecstacy — the martyrdoms of St. Peter and Joan of Arc comes to mind — and, I think, had such ecstatic reactions in the back of my mind when I came to writing that great joy that you focus upon. But honestly, no other reaction would have made sense to me.

      Before I sign off, I want to clarify what Abraham knows. I don’t believe he knows with absolute certainty that the knife will be stayed. I believe he’s been granted a small glimpse of God’s intent and with that Abraham now has faith which bolsters whatever hope he might have felt that God will spare Isaac. But it’s a hopeful faith rather than concrete certainty. God is not tame. Abraham’s faith is the type of faith St. Joseph must have had knowing that Herod would try to kill the newborn Jesus but believing God would spare Him — and yet also knowing that he and Mary had to scramble to take protective action anyway. The type of faith whereby Noah knows that God will spare him and his family and the animals but still must take action — and worry, no doubt, about drowning, starvation, etc. The type of faith where David must surely have feared Saul’s attempts on his life despite the knowledge that he was now God’s annointed. As I said in a prior comment, knowledge of God’s intent for the future gives no figures in the Bible a pass from suffering, worrying, having to take action. That this appears to be a Biblical truth is also something of a mystery to me.

      Reply

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