El Kanna
Worthy/Wide As The Sky x Deeper Worship
“You shall tear down their altars and break their pillars and cut down their Asherim (for you shall worship no other god, for the Lord, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God).”
Exodus 34:13-14 (English Standard Version)
Around 1826 B.C., Jehovah tested Abraham— the man He had called out from amongst all other men to begin a generational work.
This would not be Abraham’s first test. Jehovah had tested Abraham before. Several times before. For that reason, they had developed a solid relationship. Abraham would forever be marked by this relationship— a relationship initiated by a God he didn’t intimately know; yet a God who intimately knew him. The ruach of Jehovah changed his name and the rhema of Jehovah spoke a miraculous promise of legacy.
However, this next test would be unlike all the others.
Jehovah would make a request that would investigate the faith and assurance of the man who had given Him that same name.
Around 1826 B.C., Jehovah would ask Abraham for Isaac. This is history with living and layered revelation. But it’s also a part of history that’s often hard to reckon with. Why would a loving God ask a man to sacrifice his (only) son? Though Abraham had another son, Jehovah requested the son of promise that would establish Abraham’s reputation as a patriarch of the faith. The other son, birthed from doubt, would develop a legacy of his own. So in essence, Isaac was Abraham’s only son.
Despite the weight of the request, Abraham obeys.
As the story goes on, Jehovah provides a substitute sacrifice and spares Isaac— an action that moves Abraham’s heart to identify Jehovah in a new way: Jehovah Jireh.
The ram caught by its horns in the thicket is a beautiful and encouraging illustration of God’s character, pointing us to the ultimate act of mercy— the cross. However, when revisiting the text for the sake of this post, I found myself stuck on the moment of Abraham’s obedience. The moment Abraham made several seemingly small decisions: waking up early the next morning, saddling his donkey, gathering two young men, and cutting wood for the burnt offering with the full intention of sacrificing his son.
What were the thoughts running through his mind?
Did he contemplate staying in bed? Was he tormented as he saddled his donkey? Did he stutter while calling on the two young men who would make the journey with him; every word stabbing his heart as they left his lips? Was it difficult waking up Isaac that morning, knowing that the body lying in bed would soon lay on an altar?
The Bible doesn’t tell us much about the process behind the journey to Mount Moriah from Abraham’s point of view. However, in Romans 4, the apostle Paul gives us a deeper perspective:
“That is what the Scriptures mean when God told him, ‘I have made you the father of many nations.’ This happened because Abraham believed in the God who brings the dead back to life and who creates new things out of nothing. Even when there was no reason for hope, Abraham kept hoping—believing that he would become the father of many nations. For God had said to him, ‘That’s how many descendants you will have!’ And Abraham’s faith did not weaken, even though, at about 100 years of age, he figured his body was as good as dead—and so was Sarah’s womb. Abraham never wavered in believing God’s promise. In fact, his faith grew stronger, and in this he brought glory to God. He was fully convinced that God is able to do whatever he promises.” (Romans 4:17-21 NLT)
While it likely pained Abraham as a Father to do what was necessary to be obedient, he never second-guessed who he was being obedient to. Despite never before witnessing a resurrection or hearing of a resurrection, Abraham had faith that if the same Jehovah walking with him up until this point was asking for Isaac, then Isaac would return alive.
That is not faith based on the promise of God. That is a faith based on the very nature of God.
I’m captured by this moment because Abraham was an idol worshipper before being called by God. His father instilled in him a pagan, polytheistic faith that was practiced for generations. God called Abraham to leave Haran (his first encounter with the one true God) when he was 75 years old. Abraham was not called at an age where his ways were easily moldable. When he was called, 75 years of his life were marked by the practices of idolatry. It would have been easy for him to enter into a relationship with this “new” God and view Him as he viewed the others. It would have been easy to idolize the hand of this God who seemed to have more to give than the others.
But this God was inherently different than the others.
In Jehovah’s journey with Abraham, He proved Himself to Abraham in ways that solidified His holiness— His set-apartness. A history was established that formed Abraham’s understanding of God’s nature. So much so that when God asked for Isaac, Abraham was able to put his faith in an attribute he had not yet seen— thus passing Jehovah’s test. Abraham knew he would not return home unfulfilled after worshiping at the altar. Not because Jehovah owed him Isaac, but because Jehovah was holy.
God used a former idol worshipper to depict true faith and complete devotion.
In passing this test, Abraham was able to witness Jehovah Jireh. But I also believe he witnessed El Kanna.
“El Kanna” is another Hebrew name of God that translates to “Jealous God.” This jealousy is not what the world would define it. This word instead communicates the feeling a husband would have when discovering his wife in an adulterous relationship. It’s not envy but righteous jealousy that arises when one’s covenant relationship is challenged. Another attribute rooted in His holiness.
What kind of God would test Abraham by asking for his (only) son?
El Kanna.
A God who is inherently different from all other gods and refuses for His bride to crown them in His place out of an irreverent understanding of His nature. El Kanna’s test was to reveal the placement of Abraham’s faith— was it in the promise of God or was it in the God of the promise? Isaac had to return; not because he was Abraham and Sarah’s promise but because God is holy. God explicitly said He would use Isaac to fulfill the promise so Abraham had faith that if he were to sacrifice his son, he would be resurrected— not for his own benefit but for the purposes of a holy God.
Other gods demanded child sacrifice and Abraham was familiar with those gods. Other gods were liars and Abraham was familiar with those gods. Other gods had no desire to partner with their servants and Abraham was familiar with those gods.
However, God is different in all His ways because He’s holy.
When I read the account of Mount Moriah from this perspective, I’m challenged. When El Kanna tests the faith of my heart, will He find Himself positioned rightly or will He find promises seated on His throne?
Bowing to inanimate objects or building altars with pillars and Asherim are not the only ways to identify idolatry. Idolatry can exist even in the things of God. We can idolize ministries, friendships, romantic relationships, etc.—things that are in the will of God but may not be within His will for our lives or may be hindering the fulfillment of His will for our lives.
If God identifies Himself as El Kanna then failing the test of faith truly grieves His heart.
Does that matter to us?
Are we willing to wake up early in the morning, endure the torment, push through the stuttering, and face seeing the altar in the ordinary if it means proving to a holy God that we love Him more than anything He could ever give us? Or are we avoiding ascending Mount Moriah to worship El Kanna because we feel entitled to what He’s given us? Maybe you’re like me and struggle with the fact that God often asks us to sacrifice seemingly good and innocent things.
But worship is the willingness to sacrifice.
Worship is sacrifice.
Worship is announcing to God that we rightly see His position in correlation to ours.
What does that look like?
For me, it looks like approaching the altar with everything He’s given me and vocalizing that I’m laying them down because I know they never belonged to me.
It was all His anyway.
By His holiness, He has bestowed grace and has asked me to steward those graces well. But the graces don’t belong to me. With that mentality, I’m able to lay everything at God’s altar and leave them there— giving Him the authority to decide what will be kept and substituted by a ram or be killed with a dagger and burnt. Because God is El Kanna, idols are killed with a dagger and burnt on His altar. The fire and smoke raised to His nostrils by way of the actions of a surrendered heart are a pleasing aroma to Him. It communicates love, loyalty, covenant, intimacy, and the right understanding of His nature.
Gracefully Jenny has a permanent place at God’s altar. It’s picked back up when God asks me to write or create then returned to the altar for guidance on the next move.
My friendships have a permanent place at God’s altar. They’re picked back up when God asks me to cultivate them and returned to signify my trust in His ability to shape me into the friend He’s called me to be in the specific community He’s placed me in.
My desires have a permanent place at God’s altar. They’re picked up when He trusts me to hold them but returned to prevent holding from becoming keeping and keeping from becoming idolizing.
I’ve found that yielding my life in this way allows me to experience the love at the core of God’s jealousy in ways I can’t explain.
Think of it this way: a husband who finds his spouse in adultery will be more guarded in the way he approaches their relationship moving forward; until his spouse proves to him that she is trustworthy. If she continues to cheat on him, the relationship will continue to strain. Depending on the depth or the consistency of her infidelity, the relationship could potentially strain to the point of severe damage.
El Kanna is the husband who wants all of you. He has proved Himself trustworthy to you. His holiness makes Him inherently trustworthy. He expects His spouse to value the covenant enough for them to be faithful to their commitment. The slightest opportunity for infidelity must be stabbed with a dagger and burned away without a second thought. But it all begins with a right understanding of the relationship.
He’s faithful because He’s holy. He’s Jehovah Jireh because He’s holy. He’s El Kanna because He’s holy.
Because He’s holy, He’s worthy of my worship— my sacrifice.
Even if it happens to be a test— wake up early the next morning, saddle the donkey, gather the two young men, and cut the wood for the burnt offering anyway.
El Kanna desires true faith and complete devotion.
