It is written in the scriptures that God so
loved the world that he gave his Only Begotten Son to die far the world, that ‘whosoever
believes on him, yes, and keeps his commandments, shall be saved. But this
sacrament did not cost us very much—freely given are all these glorious
privileges, and I am reminded of a statement by one of our great writers, running
something like this: “At the devil’s booth are all things sold. Each ounce of
dross costs its ounce of gold.”
(J.R.
Lowell, “Vision of Sir Launfal.”)
It is heaven alone that is given away. It is only
God that may be had for the asking. While we give nothing, perhaps, for this
atonement and this sacrifice, nevertheless, it has cost someone something, and
I love to contemplate what it cost our Father in heaven to give us the gift of
his Beloved Son,. that worthy Son of our Father, who so loved the world that he
laid his life down to redeem the world, to save us and to feed us spiritually
while we walk in this life, and prepare us to go and dwell with him in the
eternal worlds.
I think as I read the story of Abraham’s sacrifice of his son Isaac that our Father is trying to tell us what it cost him to give his Son as a gift to the world. You remember the story of how Abraham’s son came after long years of .waiting and was looked upon by his worthy sire, Abraham, as more precious than all his other possessions; yet, in the midst of his rejoicing, Abraham was told to take this only son and offer him as a sacrifice to the Lord. He responded.
Can you feel what was in the heart of Abraham on that occasion? You
love your son just as Abraham did; perhaps not quite so much, because of the
peculiar circumstances, but what do you think was in his heart when he
started away from Mother Sarah, and they bade her goodbye? What do you think
was in his heart when he saw Isaac bidding farewell to his mother to take the
three days journey to the appointed place where the sacrifice was to be made?
I imagine it was about all Father Abraham could do to keep from showing his
great grief and sorrow at that parting, but he and his son trudged along three
days toward the appointed place, Isaac carrying the fagots that were to
consume the sacrifice. The two travelers who accompanied them were told to
remain while Abraham and his son started up the hill.
The boy then said to his father: “Why, Father, we
have the fagots; we have the fire to burn the sacrifice; but where is the
sacrifice?”
It must have pierced the heart of Father Abraham to
hear the trusting and confiding son say: “You have forgotten the sacrifice.”
Looking at the youth, his son of promise, the poor father could only say: “The
Lord will provide.”
They ascended the mountain, gathered the stones
together, and placed the fagots upon them. Then Isaac was bound, hand and foot,
kneeling upon the altar. I presume Abraham, like a true father, must have given
his son his farewell kiss, his blessing, his love, and his soul must have been
drawn out in that hour of agony toward his son who was to die by the hand of
his own father. Every step proceeded until the cold steel was drawn, and the
hand raised that was to strike the blow to let out the life’s blood, when the
angel of the Lord said:
“It
is enough.”
Our Father in heaven went through all that and more
for in his case the hand was not
stayed. He loved his Son, Jesus Christ, better than Abraham ever loved Isaac,
for our Father had with him his Son our Redeemer, in the eternal wonlds, faithful arid true for ages, standing in a
place of trust and
I ask you, what father and
mother could stand by and listen to the cry of their children in distress, in
this world, and not render aid and assistance? I have heard of mothers throwing
themselves into raging streams when they could not swim a stroke to save their
drowning children, rushing into burning , buildings, to rescue those whom
they loved.
We cannot stand by and listen to those cries without
their touching our hearts. The Lord has not given us the power to save our own.
He has given us faith, and we submit to the inevitab1e, but he had the power to save, and he loved
his Son, and he could have saved him. He might have rescued him from the insult
of the crowds. He might have rescued him when the crown of thorns was placed
upon his head. He might have rescued him when the Son, hanging between the two
thieves, was mocked with “Save thyself, and come down from the cross. He saved
others; himself he cannot save.” He listened to all this. He saw that Son
condemned; he saw him drag the cross through the streets of Jerusalem and faint
under its load. He saw that Son finally upon Calvary; he saw his body stretched
out upon the wooden cross; he saw the cruel nails driven through hands and
feet, and the blows that broke the skin, tore the flesh, and let out the life’s
blood of his Son. He looked upon that.
In the case of our Father,
the knife was not stayed, but it
fell, and the life’s blood of his Beloved Son went
out. His
Father looked on with great grief and agony over his
Beloved
Son, until there seems to have come a moment when
even our
Savior cried out in despair: “My God, my God, why
hast thou
forsaken me?”
In that hour I think I
can see our dear Father, behind the veil looking upon these dying struggles
until even he could not endure it any longer,
and, like the mother who bids farewell to her dying child, has to be taken out of the room, so as
not to look upon the last struggles, so he bowed his head, and hid in some part
of his universe, his great heart almost breaking for the love that he had for
his Son. Oh, in that moment when He might have saved his Son, I thank him and
praise him that he did not fail us, for he had not only the love of his Son in mind,
but he also had love for us. I rejoice that he did not interfere, and that his
love for us made it possible for him to endure to look upon the sufferings of
his Son and give him finally to us, our Savior and our Redeemer. Without him,
without his sacrifice, we would have remained, and we would never have come
glorified into his presence. And so this is what it cost, in part, for our
Father in Heaven to give the gift of his Son unto men.
Hinckley, Sermon., and Missionary Services of Melvin J Ballard, pp. 151-55