Never had he experienced such a tumultuous, agonizing night. The gusting sounds of the wind and the creaking boards of the centurion house magnified the agony the father was experiencing.
Had it been just twenty-four hours since he had lifted up thanksgiving and praise to his Lord for his good fortune; sealing the deal of a lifetime, procuring financial stability for himself and his loved ones?
Millions of lives would be saved. Working hard and tediously, he was successful in discovering an antidote that would stop this madness running rampant in America; thanks to the efforts of terrorists determined to destroy all infidels.
If all went as planned, this time next week the immunizations would be complete and the horrendous plague would be defeated. All that remained was a transference of the formula into understandable terms and then it could be handed over for production and distribution to all health facilities. Then, the phone call! The bursting of his bubble! And the bottom fell out of his perfect little world.
He could still hear the husky voice on the other end informing him that they had his son, and if he did not hand over the formula within twenty-four hours they would kill him. The terrorists had struck once again.
They allowed him to speak to his son. What he heard on the other end of the receiver was not the voice of a fear-ridden young man, but a strong, sure voice, determined that millions of lives must not be lost for the salvation of one. His last words to his father were, “I love you, Dad!”
Silence—the phone had gone dead. His hands trembling, the receiver tumbled to the floor. He followed, throwing himself on his knees as he lifted a plea to the heavens. “GOD! GOD!” But somehow he knew, there would be no intervention, for whatever the purpose, God would allow him to make the choice.
He was a big, burly man, all of 6’5”, but if any were to see him at this moment, he would have been unrecognizable; frail and worn, his age screaming out through every line now evident on his face. A strong man, seemingly weak and decrepit to any who might happen upon him; as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
There was no question as to what he would do; that was the agony of it. Given a choice, there was only one choice. The needs of the many far outweighed the needs of the one.
He knew his son would never forgive him if in selfishness he was spared only to allow millions to die. His son would offer up his life willingly.
The twenty-fourth hour chimed in, sounding to his ears as if the Big Ben sat in his living room, revealing the hour to the entire world.
The phone rang at the time specified. When asked his decision, he gave the only humane one possible. He would not hand over the formula. Within seconds of his pronouncement, a thunderous sound shot through the receiver.
It was finished. The pain of a broken heart searing through his entire being. But deep amidst the pain and grief there shone that one small glimmer of light, shining through even his darkest hurt to remind him that this separation from his son was only for a season. One day they would reunite, and they would have all eternity to rejoice.
The son willingly accepted his fate, a payment for the lives of millions.
What kind of love is that?
The Father, sacrificing his only son so that millions may live. Nothing hurts more deeply then the heart-wrenching agony of a father, turning his back on his only son, deliberately allowing that which is evil to overcome, whereby opening the doors of life for the multitudes.
What kind of love is that?
In Scripture we are introduced to another Father, our Holy Father, who, because of His love for us, gave His son to die for the entire world. His Son, perfect in every way. Only this Father didn’t sacrifice His Son for what we know as this fleeting life of humanity here on earth, but to secure a place in heaven for all who seek Him, love Him, and obey Him. Together with the Son who suffered and died that we might be reunited with the undeserved but perfect love of the Father for all eternity.
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