My Son

Okay, let’s have some crazy talk, shall we? Back in 2002—in the fall, I think—I was sitting in my classroom after hours doing the Lord knows what when I suddenly got an idea. Humor me… Abraham, the Musical! Not a fancy-schmancy oratorio or opera, though I felt guilty afterward for not thinking of those first. Nope. A musical. Yeah, I have no idea where that came from. But as it was an idea that didn’t immediately let go of my mind (don’t worry, it did eventually) I even thought of a song, one song, for it.

Now, as you read this poem I hope you will find it theologically fulfilling and spiritually insightful. Even though it was born from the whimsical idea of musical theater, it says something that I think is important—poignant, maybe. So forget the trappings of Broadway, the “roar of the greasepaint, the smell of the crowd,” and travel to the foothills of Moriah to listen in on a conversation between a man who loved his son and his God—who loved his, too.

My Son

“My God, you ask of me my son
As ‘twere the least that I could do,
But I will take this promised child
And give him wholly unto You.”

“You see, the wood is on his back,
Within my hand I hold the fire,
‘Tis only grace I ask, to save
And thus release him from his pyre.”

“My child, you ask of Me My Son—
No greater thing could e’er I do—
So I will take this promised Child
And give Him wholly unto you.”

“His hands and feet will be pierced through,
For by His death grace enters in;
‘Tis loving grace will bear Him there,
And grace release you from your sin.”

Perhaps that’s something to think about.