THE K I NG ' S BUS I NESS There was magnificent Noah! Prophet and hero of righteousness. Yet he was only a barefooted servant running in the hot sands of the centuries before the chariot of the coming King. Then there was Abraham, old hero of faith, friend of God. Magnificent Abra ham, pilgrim by the purpose of God! Years of waiting are touched with monot ony. One night, under the Syrian sky the longing of his heart is whispered to God, “Oh! God, I have no child.” Years slip ped along. Did ever a father love a son quite as Abraham loved Isaac? But Jehovah is saying unto him, “Take now thy son, thy only son, Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah and offer him for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of.” Oh, Abraham! how can you ever do it? You will never be able to tell his mother! No, 843 him on the altar with th<* tightened cords. But I know now that was not true, for I too am a father. Abraham did it just as you would. His left hand is upon Isaac’s shoulder; the fingers of an old man are running through the locks of a boy’s hair, pushing them back from the face he loves more than his life. And Abraham “falls to such per usal of his face as he would draw it. Long stayed he so.” . At last a little shaking of his hands; they tremble so! And Abraham is say ing: “Oh, Isaac, my son! My son!! Would God I could die for thee! Oh, Isaac, my beloved! God who gave thee to me has asked thee again!” And Abra ham is folding him “hard” against his breast and piteous sighs shake all his frame. And love is mastering fear and the clear eyes of a boy are trusting a father while his hands are yielded to him for binding, lest in death struggle they disturb. Isaac is laid upon the wood gently as love’s hand falls on the face of its beloved, and a father is bending over him pushing the locks off his face, and his old withered lips are kissing the lips of a boy again and again, and he is saying: “Oh, Isaac, my son!! and with agony unspeakable he lifts the knife to give the young warm heart back to God. And God was so near he stayed his hand, and said: “It is enough! Now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son from me!” : Magnificent Abraham! But he is only a servant running on the hot sands of the centuries before the feet of the com ing King. And there was Moses who climbed the splintered crags of Sinai and looked on the glory of God and came with words God’s fingers wrote. But Moses was only a servant in the house making ready the coming Son. There was Isaiah, for whom God let the hammer thuds of Calvary echo across 700 years and for whose vision God etched the face of His suffering son! But Isaiah was only a servant.running
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