As another Easter quietly slides into memory, I found myself reflecting on something I’d read recently by a Pastor – words that refused to fade while gently but persistently tugging at my soul.
He spoke of two moments in history, separated by centuries, yet mysteriously linked together by what looked like a unique spiritual thread.
Three days. A father. A son.
At first glance, they seem unrelated. But as the story unfolds from the book of Genesis, something deeper begins to emerge, like a veil slowly lifting to reveal a divine panoramic story written to enlighten and encourage us.
When Abraham was called by God to do the unthinkable, to sacrifice his promised son, Isaac, he was led to a specific place: a mountain called Moriah.
That detail in itself is easy to overlook because we’re busy focussing on the main characters in this story.
But nothing in God’s story, I’ve discovered, is accidental or coincidental.
Not even the name of a mountain.
In Hebrew, Moriah carries profound meaning that echoes through the ages:
“Seen by God.” “Chosen by God.” “God will provide.”
And yet, as Abraham began his journey, none of those meanings would’ve brought him comfort or eased his deep anxiety and pain.
There’s something else we often overlook. It took three days to get to Mount Moriah.
Three days of walking beside his son, wondering how he would have to find the courage to carry out God’s unthinkable request.
Three days of wrestling between promise and pain. Three days suspended between faith and fear.
Every step must’ve felt heavier than the last. Every thought, a battle of conscience against a battle of blind but faithful obedience.
Every breath harbouring a burning question but without a single answer.
As a father, it’s overwhelmingly unbearable to imagine. To walk alongside your son while carrying the suffocating weight of what you believe you’ve been called to do – to take a knife to your own flesh and blood and end his life in the service of God.
And yet, even though nothing of God’s mind blowing request made sense to him, he journeyed on, determined to fulfil God’s challenging command.
A mountain then…
A flashpoint now
That same mountain still stands today. But the atmosphere has changed.
What was once a place of quiet solitude, surrender and worship now echoes with the noise of tension and conflict.
Known today as the Temple Mount, Mount Zion, or Haram al-Sharif, it sits in the heart of Jerusalem, arguably the most contested piece of land on earth.
For Jews, it’s their holiest site and the place where King David built a sacred altar for sacrificing lambs in worship to Almighty God. It’s here where his son, King Solomon, built the first Temple filled with incense and worship of Almighty God.
As we begin joining the dots, what becomes acutely apparent is the father-son relationship in all of these historical milestones.
For Muslims, Mount Moriah is home to the revered Al-Aqsa Mosque and the Dome of the Rock and what’s their third holiest site.
For Christians, Mount Moriah points beyond stone and structure to God’s redemptive plan for humanity. Again, it was a Father-Son relationship that set in motion the single greatest moment in human history that would change everything.
Three faiths. One mountain.
Yet a powder keg of explosive tension. What was once sacred ground has become a symbol of division where identity, belief and history collide with fierce emotional force.
When faith becomes fuel
In today’s world, this mountain is no longer just a place of worship.
It’s become a rallying cry of three faiths.
A symbol. A spark.
Movements rise in its name. Conflicts are framed around it. Narratives of protection and possession swirl like a gathering tempest ready to unleash a tsunami of terror.
What was meant to draw humanity closer to God has, in many ways, become a religious barricade that divides us from each other.
While it could be seen as being the greatest tragedy, could it turn out to be God’s greatest triumph for humanity?
But let’s go back…Just for a moment
Before the noise.
Before the politics.
Before the claims and counterclaims.
Before the tensions.
Let’s return to the stillness of that journey.
A father. A son.
An unthinkable human sacrifice.
Three days. No crowds. No conflict. No competition.
Just a question that echoes through history:
“Where is the lamb?”, his son Isaac asks.
Abraham responds with three prophetic words that would become the signpost and symbol for yet another earth shattering event hundreds of years later:
“God will provide.”
And He did.
At the very moment when everything seemed lost…provision appeared.
A ram in the thicket. A substitute. A young life saved instead of death.
But it was also a whisper of something far greater still to come.
The tragic ironyIsn’t it striking?
The very place where God “provided has become a place where humanity fights to possess.
The mountain where faith trusted God has become a mountain where people struggle to trust each other as brothers.
What was meant to demonstrate surrender and worship has become a symbol of control and conflict.
What pointed to provision has become a battleground for possession and power.
Three days still speak
But the story didn’t end with Abraham.
In many ways…it was a precursor and only the beginning of a far greater purpose orchestrated by divine grace.
Because centuries later, not far from that same place, another three days would unfold featuring a Father and Son.
Three days when a wooden cross and an empty tomb would herald something divinely appointed to give humanity freedom from the clutches of demonic enslavement.
Three days between despair and hope.
Three days that would change everything about humanity’s relationship with the Creator of the Universe.
At the centre stands Jesus Christ – the Lamb of God and the bridge between humanity and God.
Once again…God provided.
Not a ram this time. But His Son.
A substitute not just for one life…but a sacrificial gift of one man’s death for all of humanity.
A question for all of usPerhaps the real question isn’t:
“Who owns the mountain?”
Perhaps the deeper question is:
“What does the mountain represent for each one of us in an age of great global chaos and a drift away from the precepts of a loving God?”
Is it a place where we lay down pride, surrender control and trust?
Or is it a place where we fight, driven by fear, hatred, identity and the need to be powerfully right?
Because long before it became a global flashpoint, Moriah was something sacred.
A place of surrender and worship. A place of trust. A place where heaven met earth not through force, but through faithful obedience of a father.
All the wisdom mankind hungers for is neatly presented and packaged in the mountains of scripture contained in the Holy Bible.
Something to think about
The world may continue to argue over that mountain.
But its original message has never changed. Because the Alpha and Omega is the same today as it was yesterday and forever more.
In the midst of fear…
In the centre of conflict…
In the chaos of human hatred and division…
God still provides.
And perhaps the greatest battle isn’t fought over land but within the confines of the human heart.
Because more than 2,000 years ago, three days changed everything.
And if we truly understand the eternal significance of the suffering that took place in those three days, we may begin to understand not only the meaning of Moriah…but the heart of a loving, merciful and forgiving God.
A God who provides.
A God who loves unconditionally.
A God who made a way when there seemed to be none.
The question isn’t whether the gift has been given.
It has. Freely and unconditionally.
The question is whether we will receive the greatest gift ever given to humanity – the gift of Salvation.
Because it’s the only gift that’ll bring peace for our aching soul and peace to our chaotic, fractured world.
And it all started with a father and son.
Perhaps now is the time to release the Ocean of Peace to the rest of the world.
Because we need “oceans” of it in the midst of what might be an impending apocalypse.
n COLIN DEOKI lives in Melbourne, Australia and is a regular contributor to this newspaper. The views expressed in this article are his and not necessarily of this newspaper.
