Ancestors: Abraham

Note: You can watch this teaching on CrossWalk’s YouTube channel.

Did you play that classic board game, “Life”?  It’s the one where you start in your little car and make your way around the board based on the number that landed on the spinner.  Some of the spaces on the board give you good news, sometimes you might draw a card that could be good or bad news.  The goal was to make it to the end as a millionaire. 

The Bible’s character, Abraham, lived the roller coaster we call life, but his story meant something special for three major religions which claim him as their foundation (Judaism, Christianity, and Islam).  When we read his story, however, we have to keep in mind that it was written for a much larger purpose than simply chronicling the story of one person for a lasting biography. The stories remembered were to give the Jewish people a sense of their identity, and more information about the God they were following.  This was Israel’s story – the kinds of things that Abraham experienced would be experienced by the whole nation.  The kind of God that interacted with Abraham would be consistent in their ongoing journey as their people went through their respective ups and downs.  All of it, to varying degrees, stood in contrast to the prevailing theologies that other surrounding cultures shared.

Have you ever heard the term quid pro qo? If you live in the United States, you are likely painfully aware of this term as it has been used frequently in President Trump’s impeachment.  It means that one person agrees to do something for another person if they will do something for them.  Most people think that God is all about quid pro quo – we do our part, and God will do God’s.  But that’s not how it went down with Abraham.  God simply invited Abraham to  see what life could be like: “Leave your country, your family, and your father’s home for a land that I will show you. I’ll make you into a great nation and bless you. I’ll make you famous; you’ll be a blessing. I’ll bless those who bless you; those who curse you I’ll curse. All the families of the Earth will be blessed through you” (Genesis 12:1-3 MSG).  This would be repeated later in Abraham’s life, and it did not change.  God was a giver of life.  

Questions: How do you think about God?  Is God simply always wanting to make a deal?  Or is God’s kindness simply always present and available regardless of our behavior – no pre-qualifications?  When you think about the dominant Christian message in our country, what kind of God is presented?

Abraham followed, which needs to be fully appreciated.  This was a leap of faith.  He was trusting that everything would work out.  And it did.  Until it didn’t.  Famine struck the land and Abraham packed up his belongings and he and his wife, Sara, fled to Egypt where there was food.  If you are hearing this story from Israel’s distant future, your ears would perk up.  Israel and Egypt – a familiar ring.  What we see in Abraham would be seen in Israel.  That’s a significant, comforting thing, too.  Sometimes we feel so strongly about a decision or a dream, and fully believe that God is behind it, only to go through a season when things fall apart. We wonder if God left us behind or something?  Reading this story, however, we take comfort in the fact that God had not abandoned Abraham.  God was still with him all the way down in Egypt, looking after him (even though he lied about his relationship to Sara, who he pawned off as his sister!).  This is life on the individual level, and it is also life writ large.  There will be ups and downs, yet God remains faithful through it all.

Questions: Has life’s journey taken you where you never thought you’d go?  Did it feel like you had been abandoned by God?  How does this story change your understanding of God’s presence in your life?  Could it be that your circumstances, as hard as they may be, do not indicate God’s withdrawal?  What makes this hard to believe?  What does that say about your theology?

After returning from Egypt, Abraham and Sara realized that their biological clocks were ticking and they had no heir.  They wondered if they should take matters into their own hands.  Sara gave her maidservant, Hagar, to Abraham for a wife, in the hopes that she would become pregnant (recall that this was somewhere close to 4,000 years ago when women were seen as property).  This union produced a son, Ishmael, and with it, the jealousy of Sara.  Over time, the hatred grew, making life unbearable at times for Hagar.  We would later learn that their decision to take matters into their own hands was a mistake that would impact their family tree forever.  Would God blow them off since they failed to trust?  No.  In fact, God chose to work with all involved, including looking after Hagar and Ishmael, and also through Sara who treated her so awfully.  God is good all the time.  God is loving all the time.

Questions: Have you ever made a mistake that you were pretty sure would cost you God’s friendship?  How does this story impact how you think about that?  Have you ever distanced yourself from God because you were sure God wouldn’t want anything to do with you?  Perhaps it’s time to rethink that…

One day, Abraham heard God call him with a weird idea.  God wanted Abraham and his lineage to adopt a sign that would identify them as God’s people going forward.  Not a badge.  Not a tattoo.  But circumcision.  Noah got a beautiful rainbow; Abraham got his foreskin sliced off.  Seems fair.  Scholars have discussed this ever since, wondering if this was a God-driven hygiene thing to save them from potential disease.  Most likely, however, it would memorably represent being cut off from the way of the world around them – they were to trust in God’s voice and leadership more than other voices.

Questions: When has choosing to follow God cost you something?  How did having skin in the game change the dynamics of your relationship with God?  How would this have been the case for an entire nation of people? Are there any related rituals we do in our country?

On another day, Abraham was visited by three travelers.  Something about them moved Abraham to treat them like royalty.  They turned out to be messengers of God.  The cries from the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah made it all the way to heaven, and they were going to see it for themselves.  If what they heard about the violent nature of the towns was true, they were going to go nuclear on the towns and wipe everyone out.  Abraham challenged the justice of such a move, and bartered them down to agreeing that if ten good people could be found among the hundreds or thousands, the towns would be spared.  It turns out they couldn’t.  Only Abraham’s nephew, Lot, and family passed muster.  The violence and rape that was attempted on the messengers themselves confirmed their worst fears, and the next day the towns were incinerated.  But what about the bartering that took place?  What does is say about God that God could be reasoned with – at least for the sake of Abraham – and that a better justice could prevail?

Questions: Do you think God is fixed or flexible?  What does this story say about God’s desire for true justice, and Abraham’s acknowledgement of it?  How do you pray for those you hate?

Part of the three visitors scene is a statement about Sara’s barrenness.  The messengers announced that she and Abe would indeed bear a son.  Each of them gave a solid LOL when they heard the news because Abe was nearly 100 years old, and Sara almost 90. Such things don’t happen.  Yet they did.  Isaac was born to a 100 year-old man and his 90 year-old wife.  Isaac translates as “laughter” – who wouldn’t giggle upon hearing this story?  He was the one through whom the nation would be born.

Questions: What do you make of this?  How do we limit God?  How does our certainty handcuff God?  Are there things that God has promised us that seem impossible?  What if our obstinance gets in God’s way?  What if Abe never had sex with Sara after the announcement?  In what ways are we abstinent because we believe God can’t do this or that?  

Isaac’s birth eventually meant that Ishmael and Hagar had to leave because Sara couldn’t manage her jealousy.  Frankly, she seriously mistreated Hagar and Ishmael.  What she did was wrong, and Abraham was a party to it.  How would God respond to such treachery?  With grace.  God met Hagar and Ishmael and saved their lives and promised to be with them in their future, blessing them, too.  God would also keep God’s promise to Abraham, Sara, and Isaac even though they blew it.  The truth was that Abraham loved both of his sons, and I think they both knew it.  A lot more things happened, including Sara’s death, and eventually Abraham died, too.  Guess who buried him?  The two oldest brothers, Ishmael and Isaac together.  An act of love and respect at the close of the patriarch’s life.  Abraham was allowed to rest in peace.

Questions: What do we learn about ourselves in these final scenes regarding our capacity for cruelty and terrible mistakes that carry long term consequences?  What do we learn about God’s response to our cruelty? What do we learn about our capacity to rise above past hurts when faced with the opportunity to love?

The questions I’ve raised for us to think about need to be considered as individuals, communities, and on a national and global level.  The God of Abraham still extends the offer of life.  Will we choose to leave behind that which restricts life from developing?

Notes to Nerd Out On…

Add these books to your reading list for reference on Genesis: Pete Enns, Genesis for Normal People by Pete Enns, which brings excellent academics with very approachable writing (he is fun to listen to and read); and In the Beginning by the great historian Karen Armstrong, which offers a Midrash approach to the texts.

Enns

Perceptive readers of the Bible have noticed the miniature exodus in the Abraham story for a very long time. The Israelites who shaped this story were writing for their present time. God has a long track record of delivering his people—even Abraham, the first Israelite—from a foreign land. For these storytellers, Babylonian captivity is not a punishment that threatens Israel’s existence as God’s people. Rather, it is only one example of a pattern of how God has dealt with the Israelites all along: “Yes, exile was punishment, but it was not the end. Our ancient story says so.” 67

From the Yale Anchor Bible Dictionary (A. R. Millard):

ABRAHAM (PERSON) [Heb ʾabrāhām (אַבְרָהָם)]. Var. ABRAM. The biblical patriarch whose story is told in Genesis 12–25.

A.         The Biblical Information

1.         Outline of Abraham’s Career

2.         Abraham’s Faith

3.         Abraham’s Life-style

4.         Abraham, Ancestor of the Chosen People

B.         Abraham in Old Testament Study

1.         Abraham as a Figure of Tradition

2.         Abraham as a Figure of History

C.         Abraham—A Contextual Approach

1.         Abraham the Ancestor

2.         Abraham’s Career and Life-style

3.         Abraham’s Names

4.         Abraham’s Faith

5.         Objections to a 2d Millennium Context

D.         Duplicate Narratives

E.         Conclusion

A. The Biblical Information

1. Outline of Abraham’s Career. Abraham is portrayed as a member of a family associated with city life in Southern Babylonia, moving to Haran in Upper Mesopotamia en route to Canaan (Gen 11:31). In Haran, God called him to leave for the land which he would show him, so he and Lot, his nephew, went to Canaan. At Shechem in the center of the land, God made the promise that Abraham’s descendants would own the land (Gen 12:1–9). Famine forced Abraham to seek food in Egypt, where the Pharaoh took Abraham’s wife, Sarah, who Abraham had declared was his sister. Discovering the deception, the Pharaoh sent Abraham away with all the wealth he had acquired, and Sarah (Gen 12:10–12). In Canaan, Abraham and Lot separated in order to find adequate grazing, Lot settling in the luxuriant Jordan plain. God renewed the promise of Abraham’s numberless descendants possessing the land (Genesis 13). Foreign invaders captured Lot, so Abraham with 318 men routed them and recovered Lot and the booty. This brought the blessing of Melchizedek, the priest-king of Salem to whom Abraham paid a tithe (Genesis 14). Following a reassuring vision, Abraham was promised that his childless condition would end and that his offspring would occupy the land, a promise solemnized with a sacrifice and a covenant (Genesis 15). Childless Sarah gave Abraham her maid Hagar to produce a son, then drove out the pregnant maid when she belittled her barren mistress. An angel sent Hagar home with a promise of a harsh life for her son, duly born and named Ishmael (Genesis 16). Thirteen years later God renewed his covenant with Abraham, changing his name from Abram, and Sarai’s to Sarah, and imposing circumcision as a sign of membership for all in Abraham’s household, born or bought. With this came the promise that Sarah, then ninety, would bear a son, Isaac, who would receive the covenant, Ishmael receiving a separate promise of many descendants (Genesis 17). Three visitors repeated the promise of a son (Gen 18:1–15). Lot meanwhile had settled in Sodom, which had become totally depraved and doomed. Abraham prayed that God would spare the city if ten righteous people could be found there, but they could not, so Sodom and its neighbor were destroyed, only Lot and his two daughters surviving (Gen 18:16–19:29). Abraham living in southern Canaan encountered the king of Gerar, who took Sarah on her husband’s assertion that she was his sister. Warned by God, King Abimelech avoided adultery and made peace with Abraham (Genesis 20). Now Isaac was born and Hagar and Ishmael sent to wander in the desert, where divine provision protected them (Gen 21:1–20). The king of Gerar then made a treaty with Abraham to solve a water-rights quarrel at Beersheba (Gen 21:22–34). When Isaac was a boy, God called Abraham to offer him in sacrifice, only staying the father’s hand at the last moment, and providing a substitute. A renewal of the covenant followed (Gen 22:1–19). At Sarah’s death, Abraham bought a cave for her burial, with adjacent land, from a Hittite of Hebron (Genesis 23). To ensure the promise remained within his family, Abraham sent his servant back to his relatives in the Haran region to select Isaac’s bride (Genesis 24). The succession settled, Abraham gave gifts to other sons, and when he died aged 175, Isaac and Ishmael buried him beside Sarah (Gen 25:1–11).

2. Abraham’s Faith. Although it was Abraham’s grandson Jacob who gave his name to Israel and fathered the Twelve Tribes, Abraham was regarded as the nation’s progenitor (e.g., Exod 2:24; 4:5; 32:13; Isa 29:22; Ezek 33:24; Mic 7:20). Israel’s claim to Canaan rested on the promises made to him, and the God worshipped by Israel was preeminently the God of Abraham (e.g., Exod 3:6, 15; 4:1; 1 Kgs 18:36; Ps 47:9). God’s choice of Abraham was an act of divine sovereignty whose reason was never disclosed. The reason for Abraham’s favor with God (cf. “my friend,” Isa 41:8) is made clear in the famous verse, “Abraham believed God and he credited it to him as righteousness” (Gen 15:6; cf. Rom 4:1–3), and in other demonstrations of Abraham’s trust (e.g., Gen 22:8). Convinced of God’s call to live a seminomadic life (note Heb 11:9), Abraham never attempted to return to Haran or to Ur, and took care that his son should not marry a local girl and so gain the land by inheritance, presumably because the indigenous people were unacceptable to God (Gen 24:3; 15:16). Throughout his career he built altars and offered sacrifices, thereby displaying his devotion (Gen 12:7, 8; 13:4, 18), an attitude seen also in the tithe he gave to Melchizedek after his victory (Genesis 14). The places sacred to him were often marked by trees, a token of his intention to stay in the land (Gen 12:6; 13:18; 21:33). Abraham believed his God to be just, hence his concern for any righteous in Sodom (Gen 18:16ff.). Even so, he attempted to preempt God’s actions by taking Hagar when Sarah was barren (Gen 16:1–4), and by pretending Sarah was not his wife. In the latter cases, God intervened to rescue him from the results of his own deliberate subterfuge because he had jeopardized the fulfilment of the promise (Gen 12:17f.; 20:3f.).

The God Abraham worshipped is usually referred to by the name yhwh (RSV LORD); twice Abraham “called on the name of the LORD” (Gen 12:8; 13:4), and his servant Eliezer spoke of the Lord, the God of Abraham (Gen 24:12, 27, 42, 48). The simple term “God” (ʾĕlōhı̂m) occurs in several passages, notably Gen 17:3ff; 19:29; 20 often; 21:2ff; 22. Additional divine names found in the Abraham narrative are: God Almighty (ʾel šadday, Gen 17:1), Eternal God (yhwh ʾēl ʿôlām Gen 21:33), God Most High (ʾēl ʿelyôn Gen 14:18–22), Sovereign Lord (ʾădōnāy yhwh, Gen 15:2, 8), and Lord God of heaven and earth (yhwh ʾĕlōhê haššā-mayim wĕhāʾāreṣ Gen 24:3, 7).

Abraham approached God without the intermediacy of priests (clearly in Genesis 22; elsewhere it could be argued that priests were present, acting as Abraham’s agents but not mentioned). God spoke to Abraham by theophanic visions (Gen 12:7; 17:1; 18:1). In one case, the appearance was in human form, when the deity was accompanied by two angels (Gen 18; cf. v 19). Perhaps God employed direct speech when no other means is specified (Gen 12:1f.; 13:14; 15:1; 21:12; 22:1). Angels could intervene and give protection as extensions of God’s person (Gen 22; 24:7, 40). Prayer was a natural activity (e.g., 20:17) in which Eliezer followed his master’s example (Gen 24). Eliezer did not hesitate to speak of Abraham’s faith and God’s care for him which he had observed (Gen 24:27, 35). God commended Abraham to Abimelech as a prophet (Gen 20:7, nābı̂ʾ). Abraham is portrayed as worshipping one God, albeit with different titles. Abraham’s is a God who can be known and who explains his purposes, even if over a time span that stretches his devotee’s patience.

3. Abraham’s Life-style. Leaving Ur and Haran, Abraham exchanged an urban-based life for the seminomadic style of the pastoralist with no permanent home, living in tents (Gen 12:8, 9; 13:18; 18:1; cf. Heb 11:9), unlike his relations near Haran (Gen 24:10, 11). However, he stayed at some places for long periods (Mamre, Gen 13:18; 18:1; Beersheba, Gen 22:19; Philistia, Gen 21:3, 4), enjoyed good relations with settled communities (Gen 23:10, 18 mentions the city gate), had treaty alliances with some, and spoke on equal terms with kings and the Pharaoh (Gen 14:13; 20:2, 11–14; 21:22–24). He is represented as having owned only one piece of land, the cave of Machpelah (Genesis 23). Wealth flowed to him through his herds, and in gifts from others (Gen 12:16; 20:14, 16), so that he became rich, owning cattle, sheep, silver, gold, male and female slaves, camels and donkeys (Gen 24:35). He may have traded in other goods, for he knew the language of the marketplace (Genesis 23). His household was large enough to furnish 318 men to fight foreign kings (Genesis 14). He was concerned about having an heir, and so looked on Eliezer his servant before sons were born (Gen 15:2), and took care to provide for Isaac’s half-brothers so that his patrimony should not diminish (Gen 24:36; 25:5, 6; cf. 17:18). While Sarah was his first wife, Abraham also married Keturah, and had children by her, by Hagar, and by concubines (Gen 25:1–6). His burial was in the cave with Sarah (Gen 25:9–10).

4. Abraham, Ancestor of the Chosen People. Belief in their ancestry reaching back to one man, Abraham, to whom God promised a land, was firmly fixed among Jews in the 1st century (e.g., John 8:33–58; cf. Philo), and is attested long before by the prophets of the latter days of the Judean Monarchy (Isa 41:8; 51:2; 63:16; Jer 33:26; Ezek 33:24; Mic 7:20). The historical books of the OT also contain references to Abraham (Josh 24:2, 3; 2 Kgs 13:23; 1 Chr 16:16–18; 2 Chr 20:7; 30:6; Neh 9:7, 8) as does Psalm 105. In the Pentateuch the promise is mentioned in each book after Genesis (Exod 2:24; 33:1, etc.; Lev 26:42; Num 32:11; Deut 1:8; etc.).

B. Abraham in Old Testament Study

1. Abraham as a Figure of Tradition. Building on meticulous literary analysis of the Pentateuch, Julius Wellhausen concluded “… we attain to no historical knowledge of the patriarchs, but only of the time when the stories about them arose in the Israelite people; this latter age is here unconsciously projected, in its inner and its outward features, into hoary antiquity, and is reflected there like a glorified mirage.” And of Abraham he wrote, “Abraham alone is certainly not the name of a people like Isaac and Lot: he is somewhat difficult to interpret. That is not to say that in such a connection as this we may regard him as a historical person; he might with more likelihood be regarded as a free invention of unconscious art” (WPHI, 319f.). The literary sources of the early Monarchy, J and E, drawing on older traditions, preserved the Abraham stories. At the same time, Wellhausen treated the religious practices of Abraham as the most primitive in the evolution of Israelite religion. Hermann Gunkel, unlike Wellhausen, argued that investigating the documentary sources could allow penetration beyond their final form into the underlying traditions. Gunkel separated the narratives into story-units, often very short, which he alleged were the primary oral forms, duly collected into groups as sagas. These poems told the legends attached to different shrines in Canaan, or to individual heroes. Gradually combined around particular names, these stories were ultimately reduced to the prose sources which Wellhausen characterized. Gunkel believed the legends arose out of observations of life associated with surrounding traditions, obscuring any historical kernel: “Legend here has woven a poetic veil about the historical memories and hidden their outlines” (Gunkel 1901: 22). The question of Abraham’s existence was unimportant, he asserted, for legends about him could not preserve a true picture of the vital element, his faith: “The religion of Abraham is in reality the religion of the narrators of the legends, ascribed by them to Abraham” (122).

The quest for the origins of these elements has continued ever since. Martin Noth tried to delineate the oral sources and their original settings, building on Gunkel’s premises (Noth 1948), and Albrecht Alt investigated religious concepts of the expression “the gods of the fathers” in the light of Nabatean and other beliefs. He deduced that Genesis reflects an older stage of similar seminomadic life, the patriarchal figures being pegs on which the cult traditions hung (Alt 1966). The positions of Alt and Noth have influenced commentaries and studies on Abraham heavily during the past fifty years. At the same time, others have followed the literary sources in order to refine them and especially to discern their purposes and main motifs (e.g., von Rad Genesis OTL). For Abraham the consequence of these studies is the same, whether they view him as a dim shadow in Israel’s prehistory, or as a purely literary creation: he is an example whose faith is to be emulated. The question of his actual existence is irrelevant; the stories about him illustrate how generations of Jews believed God had worked in a man’s life, setting a pattern, and it is that belief, hallowed by the experience of many others, which is enshrined in them (see Ramsey 1981).

2. Abraham as a Figure of History. Several scholars have searched for positions which allow a measure of historical reality to Abraham. While accepting the literary sources as the channels of tradition, they have seen them as reflecting a common heritage which was handed down through different circles and so developed different emphases. This explains the nature of such apparently duplicate stories as Abraham’s twice concealing Sarah’s status (Gen 12:11–20; 20:2–18). W. F. Albright and E. A. Speiser were notable exponents of this position, constantly drawing on ancient Near Eastern sources, textual and material, to clarify the patriarch’s ancient context. Albright claimed the Abraham stories fitted so well into the caravan society that he reconstructed for the 20th century b.c. “that there can be little doubt about their substantial historicity” (1973: 10). Textual and material sources included the cuneiform tablets from Mari and Nuzi and occupational evidence from Palestine. The Nuzi archives were thought to have yielded particularly striking analogies to family practices in the stories (see Speiser Genesis AB). These comparisons were widely accepted as signs of the antiquity of the narratives, and therefore as support for the contention that they reflected historical events. Even scholars who held firmly to the literary analyses took these parallels as illlumination of the original settings of the traditions (e.g., EHI). In 1974 and 1975 T. L. Thompson and J. Van Seters published sharp and extensive attacks on the views Albright had fostered, Thompson urging a return to the position of Wellhausen, and van Seters arguing that the stories belonged to exilic times (Thompson 1974; Van Seters 1975). The impact of these studies was great. They showed clearly that there were faults of logic and interpretation in the use made of the Nuzi and other texts, and put serious doubt on the hypothesis of an Amorite “invasion” of Palestine about 2000 b.c. In several cases, they pointed to other parallels from the 1st millennium b.c. which seemed equally good, thus showing that comparisons could not establish an earlier date for the patriarchal stories. For many OT scholars the arguments of Thompson and Van Seters reinforced the primacy of the literary analysis of Genesis and its subsequent developments, allowing attention to be paid to the narratives as “stories” rather than to questions of historicity.

Inevitably, there have been reactions from a variety of scholars who wish to sustain the value of comparisons with texts from the 2d millennium b.c. These include an important study of the Nuzi material by M. J. Selman (1976) and investigations of the Mari texts in relation to nomadism by J. T. Luke (1965) and V. H. Matthews (1978). Equally important, however, are considerations of the methods appropriate for studying the Abraham narratives, and these will be discussed in the remainder of this article, with examples as appropriate.

C. Abraham—A Contextual Approach

When the literary criticism of the Old Testament was elaborated in the 19th century in conjunction with theories of the evolution of Israelite society and religion, the ancient Near East was hardly known. With increasing discoveries came the possibility of checking the strength of those hypotheses against the information ancient records and objects provide. Were Genesis a newly recovered ancient manuscript, it is doubtful that these hypotheses would be given priority in evaluating the text. A literary analysis is one approach to understanding the text, but it is an approach that should be followed beside others and deserves no preferential status.

The current analysis is unsatisfactory because it cannot be demonstrated to work for any other ancient composition. Changes can be traced between copies of ancient texts made at different periods only when both the earlier and the later manuscript are physically available (e.g., the Four Gospels and Tatian’s Diatessaron). Moreover, the presuppositions of the usual literary analysis do not sustain themselves in the light of ancient scribal practices, for they require a very precise consistency on the part of redactors and copyists. Ancient scribes were not so hide-bound. Rather, the Abraham narratives should be judged in their contexts. They have two contexts. The first is the biblical one. Historically this sets Abraham long before Joseph and Moses, in current terms about 2000 b.c. (Bimson 1983: 86). Sociologically it places Abraham in the context of a seminomadic culture not controlled by the Mosaic laws, moving in a Canaan of city-states. Religiously it puts Abraham before the cultic laws of Moses, aware of God’s uniqueness and righteousness, yet also of others who worshipped him, such as Melchizedek. To an ancient reader, there was no doubt that Abraham, who lived many years before the rise of the Israelite monarchy, was the ancestor of Israel, a position which carried with it the promise of the land of Canaan and of God’s covenant blessing. That is the biblical context and it should not be disregarded (see Goldingay 1983). The detection of apparently duplicate or contradictory elements in the narratives, and of episodes hard to explain, is not sufficient reason for assuming the presence of variant or disparate traditions, nor are anachronisms necessarily a sign of composition long after the events described took place. These questions can only be considered when the narratives are set in their second context, the ancient Near Eastern world, at the period the biblical context indicates. Only if it proves impossible to fit them into that context should another be sought.

1. Abraham the Ancestor. Although Abraham’s biography is unique among ancient texts, its role in recording his ancestral place is not. Other states emerging about 1000 b.c., like Israel, bore the names of eponymous ancestors (e.g., Aramean Bit Bahyan, Bit Agush). Some traced their royal lines back to the Late Bronze Age, and many of the states destroyed at the end of that period had dynasties reaching back over several centuries to founders early in the Middle Bronze Age (e.g., Ugarit). Assyria, which managed to survive the crisis at the start of the 1st millennium b.c., listed her kings back to that time, and even before, to the days when they lived in tents. In this context, the possibility of Israel preserving knowledge of her descent is real (cf. Wiseman 1983: 153–58). States or tribes named after ancestors are also attested in the 2d millennium b.c. (e.g., Kassite tribes, RLA 5: 464–73). Dynastic lineages are known because kings were involved. Other families preserved their lines, too, as lawsuits about properties reveal (in Egypt, Gaballa 1977; in Babylonia, King 1912: no. 3), but they had little cause to write comprehensive lists. Israel’s descent from Abraham, the grandfather of her national eponym, is comparable inasmuch as he received the original promise of the land of Canaan. The ancient King Lists rarely incorporate anecdotal information (e.g., Sumerian King List, Assyrian King List; see ANET, 265, 564). However, ancient accounts of the deeds of heroes are not wholly dissimilar. Sargon of Akkad (ca. 2334–2279 b.c.), a king whose existence was denied when his story was first translated, is firmly placed in histories as the first Semitic emperor, well attested by copies of his own inscriptions made five centuries after his death, and by the records of his sons. Stories about Sargon were popular about 1700 b.c., and are included among the sources of information for his reign from which modern historians reconstruct his career. Other kings have left their own contemporary autobiographies (e.g., Idrimi of Alalakh, ANET, 557). All of these ancient texts convey factual information in the style and form considered appropriate by their authors. The analyses of their forms is part of their proper study. Finding a biography in an ancient Near Eastern document that combined concepts drawn from the family-tree form and from narratives about leaders, such as Genesis contains, preserved over centuries, would not lead scholars to assume the long processes of collecting, shaping, revising and editing normally alleged for the stories of Abraham.

2. Abraham’s Career and Life-style. Journeys between Babylonia and the Levant were certainly made in the period 2100–1600 b.c. Kings of Ur had links with north Syrian cities and Byblos ca. 2050 b.c., and in Babylonia goods were traded with Turkey and Cyprus ca. 1700 b.c. A detailed itinerary survives for a military expedition from Larsa in southern Babylonia to Emar on the middle Euphrates, and others trace the route from Assyria to central Turkey. If Abraham was linked with the Amorites, as W. F. Albright argued, evidence that the Amorites moved from Upper Mesopotamia southward during the centuries around 2000 b.c. cannot invalidate the report of Abraham’s journey in the opposite direction, as some have jejunely asserted (e.g., van Seters 1975: 23). Where the identifications are fixed and adequate explorations have been made, the towns Abraham visited—Ur, Haran, Shechem, Bethel, Salem (if Jerusalem), Hebron—appear to have been occupied about 2000 b.c. (Middle Bronze I; for a summary of archaeological material, see IJH, 70–148). Gerar remains unidentified, nor is there positive evidence for identifying the site now called Tel Beer-sheba with the Beer-sheba of Genesis (Millard 1983: 50). Genesis presents Abraham as a tent dweller, not living in an urban environment after he left Haran (cf. Heb 11:9).

Extensive archives from Mari, ca. 1800 b.c., illustrate the life of seminomadic tribesmen in relationship with that and other towns (see MARI LETTERS). General similarities as well as specific parallels (e.g., treaties between city rulers and tribes) can be seen with respect to Genesis. Some tribes were wealthy and their chieftains powerful men. When they trekked from one pasturage to another, their passage was marked and reported to the king of Mari. Town dwellers and steppe dwellers lived in dependence on each other.

In Canaan, Abraham had sheep and donkeys like the Mari tribes, and cattle as well. This difference does not disqualify the comparison (pace van Seters 1975: 16), for the Egyptian Sinuhe owned herds of cattle during his stay in the Levant about 1930 b.c. Like Abraham, Sinuhe spent some of his life in tents, and acquired wealth and high standing among the local people (ANET, 18–22; note that copies of this story were being made as early as 1800 b.c.). To strike camp and migrate for food was the practice of “Asiatics” within reach of Egypt, so much so that a wall or line of forts had to be built to control their influx (ca. 1980 b.c., see ANET, 446). The story of Sinuhe relates that the hero met several Egyptians in the Levant at this time (ANET, 18–22); the painting from a tomb at Beni Hasan depicts a party of 37 “Asiatics” (ANEP, 3), and excavations have revealed a Middle Bronze Age settlement in the Delta with a strong Palestinian presence (Bietak 1979). Military contingents brought together in coalitions traveled over great distances to face rebellious or threatening tribes, as in the affair of Genesis 14 (see below C5). In an era of petty kings, interstate rivalry was common and raids by hostile powers a threat to any settlement. To meet the persistent military threat, many cities throughout the Near East were strongly fortified during the Middle Bronze Age; fortification provided well-built gateways in which citizens could congregate (Gen 23:10, 18).

Disputes arose over grazing rights and water supplies. Abraham’s pact at Gerar is typical, the agreement duly solemnized with an oath and offering of lambs. Abraham was a resident alien (gēr), not a citizen (Gen 15:13; 23:4). Concern for the continuing family was normal. Marriage agreements of the time have clauses allowing for the provision of an heir by a slave girl should the wife prove barren (ANET, 543, no. 4; cf. Selman 1976: 127–29). The line was also maintained through proper care of the dead, which involved regular ceremonies in Babylonia (see DEAD, CULT OF). Burial in the cave at Machpelah gave Abraham’s family a focus which was valuable when they had no settled dwelling (cf., the expression in Gen 47:30). Comparisons made between Abraham’s purchase of the cave reported in Genesis 23 and Hittite laws (Lehmann 1953) are now seen to be misleading (Hoffner 1969: 33–37). However, the report is not a transcript of a contract, and so cannot be tied in time to the “dialogue document” style fashionable in Babylonia from the 7th to 5th centuries b.c., as Van Seters and others have argued (Van Seters 1975: 98–100), and at least one Babylonian deed settling property rights survives in dialogue form from early in the 2 millennium b.c. (Kitchen 1977: 71 gives the reference).

3. Abraham’s Names. Abram, “the father is exalted,” is a name of common form, although no example of it is found in the West Semitic onomasticon of the early 2d millennium b.c. The replacement, Abraham, is given the meaning “father of a multitude” (Gen 17:5). That may be a popular etymology or a play on current forms of the name “Abram” in local dialects for the didactic purpose of the context, the inserted h having analogies in other West Semitic languages. The name “Aburahana” is found in the Egyptian Execration Texts of the 19th century b.c. (m and n readily interchange in Egyptian transcriptions of Semitic names [EHI, 197–98]). Genesis introduces the longer name as part of the covenant God made with Abram, so the new name confirmed God’s control and marked a stage in the Patriarch’s career (see Wiseman 1983: 158–60). No other person in the OT bears the names “Abram” or “Abraham” (or “Isaac” or “Jacob”); apparently they were names which held a special place in Hebrew tradition (like the names “David” and “Solomon”).

4. Abraham’s Faith. A monotheistic faith followed about 2000 b.c. is, so far as current sources reveal, unique, and therefore uncomfortable for the historian and accordingly reckoned unlikely and treated as a retrojection from much later times. The history of religions undermines that stance; the astonishing impact of Akhenaten’s “heresy” and the explosion of Islam demonstrate the role a single man’s vision may play, both imposing a monotheism upon a polytheistic society. Abraham’s faith, quietly held and handed down in his family until its formulation under Moses, is equally credible.

Contextual research helps a little. Further study has traced the “gods of the fathers” concept far beyond Alt’s Nabatean inscriptions to the early 2d millennium b.c., when the term referred to named deities, and the god El could be known as Il-aba “El is father” (Lambert 1981). Discussion of the various names and epithets for God in the Abraham narratives continues, revolving around the question whether they all refer to one deity or not (see Cross 1973; Wenham 1983). Some ancient texts which apply one or two of these epithets to separate gods (e.g., the pair ʾl “God” and ʿlywn “Most High,” in an 8th-century Aramaic treaty, ANET, 659), may reflect later or different traditions; the religious patterns of the ancient Levant are so varied that it is dangerous to harmonize details from one time and place with those from another. The OT seems to equivocate over the antiquity of the divine name yhwh. Despite Exod 6:3, the Abraham narratives include the name often. Apart from the (unacceptable) documentary analysis, explanations range from retrojection of a (post-) Mosaic editor to explanations of Exod 6:3 allowing the name to be known to Abraham, but not its significance (see Wenham 1983:189–93). The latter opinion may find a partial analogy in the development of the Egyptian word aten from “sun disk” to the name of the supreme deity (Gardiner 1961: 216–18). However, the absence of the divine name as an indubitable element in any pre-Mosaic personal name should not be overlooked. Abraham naturally had a similar religious language to those around him, with animal sacrifices, altars, and gifts to his God after a victory. He found in Melchizedek another whose worship he could share, just as Moses found Jethro (Gen 14; Exod 2:15–22; 8), yet he never otherwise joined the cults of Canaan.

5. Objections to a 2d Millennium Context. a. Anachronisms. The texts about Sargon of Akkad are pertinent to the question of anachronisms in the Abraham stories. In those texts, Sargon is said to have campaigned to Turkey in aid of Mesopotamian merchants oppressed there. Documents from Kanesh in central Turkey attest to the activities of Assyrian merchants in the 19th century b.c., but not much earlier. Therefore the mention of Kanesh in texts about Sargon and his dynasty is considered anachronistic. At the same time, the incidents those texts report are treated as basically authentic and historically valuable (Grayson and Sollberger 1976: 108). The anachronism does not affect the sense of the narrative. In this light, the problem of the Philistines in Gen 21:32, 34 may be viewed as minimal. Naming a place after a people whose presence is only attested there six or seven centuries later than the setting of the story need not falsify it. A scribe may have replaced an outdated name, or people of the Philistine group may have resided in the area long before their name is found in other written sources. Certainly some pottery entered Palestine in the Middle Bronze Age from Cyprus, the region whence the Philistines came (Amiran 1969: 121–23). A similar position can be adopted with regard to the commonly cited objection of Abraham’s camels. Although the camel did not come into general use in the Near East until after 1200 b.c., a few signs of its use earlier in the 2d millennium b.c. have been found (see CAMEL). It is as logical to treat the passages in Gen 12:16; 24 as valuable evidence for the presence of camels at that time as to view them as anachronistic. Contrariwise, the absence of horses from the Abraham narratives is to be noted, for horses could be a sign of wealth in the places where he lived (cf. 1 Kgs 5:6); horses are unmentioned in the list of Job’s wealth (Job 1:3). Ancient Near Eastern sources show clearly that horses were known in the 3d millennium b.c., but only began to be widely used in the mid-2d millennium b.c., that is, after the period of Abraham’s lifetime as envisaged here (Millard 1983: 43). Comparisons may be made also with information concerning iron working. A Hittite text tells how King Anitta (ca. 1725 b.c.) received an iron chair from his defeated foe. Recent research dates the tablet about 1600 b.c., yet iron only came into general use in the Near East when the Bronze Age ended and the Iron Age began, ca. 1200 b.c. Were the Anitta text preserved in a copy made a millennium after his time, its iron chair would be dismissed as a later writer’s anachronism. It cannot be so treated; it is one important witness to iron working in the Middle Bronze Age (Millard 1988). Alleged anachronisms in the Abraham narratives are not compelling obstacles to setting them early in the 2d millennium b.c.

b. Absence of Evidence. Occasionally the absence of any trace of Abraham from extrabiblical sources is raised against belief in his existence soon after 2000 b.c. This is groundless. The proportion of surviving Babylonian and Egyptian documents to those once written is minute. If, for example, Abraham’s treaty with Abimelech of Gerar (Genesis 21) was written, a papyrus manuscript would decay quickly in the ruined palace, or a clay tablet might remain, lie buried undamaged, awaiting the spade of an excavator who located Gerar (a problem!), happened upon the palace, and cleared the right room. If Abimelech’s dynasty lasted several generations, old documents might have been discarded, the treaty with them. Egyptian state records are almost nonexistent owing to the perishability of papyrus, so no evidence for Abraham can be expected there.

Abraham’s encounter with the kings of the east (Genesis 14) links the patriarch with international history, but regrettably, the kings of Elam, Shinar, Ellasar, and the nations have not been convincingly identified. R. de Vaux stated that “it is historically impossible for these five sites south of the Dead Sea to have at one time during the second millennium been the vassals of Elam, and that Elam never was at the head of a coalition uniting the four great near eastern powers of that period” (EHI, 219). Consequently, the account is explained as a literary invention of the exilic period (Astour 1966; Emerton 1971). At that date, its author would either be imagining a situation unlike any within his experience, or weaving a story around old traditions. If the former is true, he was surprisingly successful in constructing a scenario appropriate for the early 2d millennium b.c.; if the latter, then it is a matter of preference which components of the chapter are assumed to stem from earlier times. Yet the chapter may still be viewed as an account of events about 2000 b.c., as K. A. Kitchen has demonstrated (Kitchen 1977: 72 with references). A coalition of kings from Elam, Mesopotamia, and Turkey fits well into that time. To rule it “unhistorical” is to claim a far more detailed knowledge of the history of the age than anyone possesses. The span of the events is only fifteen years, and what is known shows how rapidly the political picture could change. Current inability to identify the royal names with recorded kings is frustrating; scribal error is an explanation of last resort; ignorance is the likelier reason, and as continuing discoveries make known more city-states and their rulers, clarification may emerge. (One may compare the amount of information derivable from the Ebla archives for the period about 2300 b.c. with the little available for the city’s history over the next five hundred years.) Gen 14:13 terms Abram “the Hebrew.” This epithet is appropriate in this context, where kings are defined by the states they ruled, for Abram had no state or fatherland. “Hebrew” denoted exactly that circumstance in the Middle Bronze Age (Buccellati 1977).

D. Duplicate Narratives

A major argument for the common literary analysis of the Abraham narratives, and for the merging of separate lines of tradition, is the presence of “duplicate” accounts of some events. Abraham and Isaac clashed with Abimelech of Gerar, and each represented his wife as his sister, an action Abraham had previously taken in Egypt (Gen 12:10–20; 20; 26). These three stories are interpreted as variations of one original in separate circles. That so strange a tale should have so secure a place in national memory demands a persuasive explanation, whatever weight is attached to it. In the ancient Near East, kings frequently gave their sisters or daughters in marriage to other rulers to cement alliances and demonstrate goodwill (examples abound throughout the 2d millennium b.c.). The actions of Abraham and Isaac may be better understood in this context, neither man having unmarried female relatives to hand. That they were afraid may reflect immediate pressures. For Isaac to repeat his father’s procedure at Gerar is more intelligible as part of a well-established practice of renewing treaties with each generation than as a literary repetition (Hoffmeier fc.).

Abraham and Isaac both had trouble with the men of Gerar over water rights at Beer-sheba. Again, the narratives are counted as duplicates of a single tradition (Speiser Genesis 202), and again two different episodes in the lives of a father and son living in the same area is as reasonable an explanation in the ancient context. One king might confront and defeat an enemy, the same king or his son having to repeat the action (e.g., Ramesses II and the Hittites, Kitchen 1982 passim). The naming of the wells at Beersheba, usually labeled contradictory, is also open to a straightforward interpretation in the light of Hebrew syntax which removes the conflict (NBD, 128).

E. Conclusion

To place Abraham at the beginning of the 2d millennium b.c. is, therefore, sustainable. While the extrabiblical information is not all limited to that era, for much of ancient life followed similar lines for centuries, and does not demand such a date, it certainly allows it, in accord with the biblical data. The advantage this brings is the possibility that Abraham was a real person whose life story, however handed down, has been preserved reliably. This is important for all who take biblical teaching about faith seriously. Faith is informed, not blind. God called Abraham with a promise and showed his faithfulness to him and his descendants. Abraham obeyed that call and experienced that faithfulness. Without Abraham, a major block in the foundations of both Judaism and Christianity is lost; a fictional Abraham might incorporate and illustrate communal beliefs, but could supply no rational evidence for faith because any other community could invent a totally different figure (and communal belief can be very wrong, as the fates of many “witches” recall). Inasmuch as the Bible claims uniqueness, and the absolute of divine revelation, the Abraham narratives deserve a positive, respectful approach; any other risks destroying any evidence they afford.

Bibliography

Albright, W. F. 1973. From the Patriarchs to Moses. 1. From Abraham to Joseph. BA 36: 5–33.

Alt, A. 1966. The Gods of the Fathers. Pp. 1–77 in Essays on Old Testament History and Religion, trans. R. A. Wilson. Oxford.

Amiran, R. B. K. 1969. Ancient Pottery of the Holy Land. New Brunswick, NJ.

Astour, M. C. 1966. Political and Cosmic Symbolism in Genesis 14 and its Babylonian Sources. Pp. 65–112 in Biblical Motifs: Origin and Transformation, ed. A. Altmann. Cambridge, MA.

Bietak, M. 1979. Avaris and Piramesse. PBA 65: 255–90.

Bimson, J. 1983. Archaeological Data and the Dating of the Patriarchs. Pp. 53–89 in Millard and Wiseman 1983.

Buccellati, G. 1977. ʿApiru and Munnabtūtu: The Stateless of the First Cosmopolitan Age. JNES 36: 145–47.

Clements, R. 1967. Abraham and David. SBT n.s. 5. London.

Cross, F. M. 1973. Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic. Cambridge, MA.

Emerton, J. A. 1971. Some False Clues in the Study of Genesis XIV. VT 21: 24–47.

Gaballa, G. A. 1977. The Memphite Tomb-Chapel of Mose. Warminster.

Gardiner, A. H. 1961. Egypt of the Pharaohs. Oxford.

Goldingay, J. 1983. The Patriarchs in Scripture and History. Pp. 1–34 in Millard and Wiseman 1983.

Grayson, A. K., and Sollberger, E. 1976. L’insurrection générale contre Narām-Suen. RA 70:103–28.

Gunkel, H. 1901. The Legends of Genesis. Trans. W. H. Carruth. Repr. 1964. New York.

Hoffmeier, J. fc. Once Again, the Wife-Sister Stories of Genesis 12, 20, and 26 and the Covenants of Abraham and Isaac at Beersheba. (Paper read at the SBL Annual Meeting, Boston, 1988.)

Hoffner, H. A. 1969. Some Contributions of Hittitology to Old Testament Study. Tyndale Bulletin 20: 27–55.

Irwin, D. 1978. Mytharion. AOAT 32. Neukirchen-Vluyn and Kevalaer.

King, L. W. 1912. Babylonian Boundary Stones. London.

Kitchen, K. A. 1966. Historical Method and Early Hebrew Tradition. Tyn Bul 17: 63–97.

———. 1977. The Bible in Its World. Downer’s Grove, IL.

———. 1982. Pharaoh Triumphant: The Life and Times of Ramesses II. Warminster.

Lambert, W. G. 1981. Old Akkadian Ilaba = Ugaritic Ilib? UF 13: 299–301.

Lehmann, M. R. 1953. Abraham’s Purchase of Machpelah and Hittite Law. BASOR 129: 15–18.

Luke, J. T. 1965. Pastoralism and Politics in the Mari Period. Ann Arbor.

Matthews, V. R. 1978. Pastoral Nomadism in the Mari Kingdom. ASORDS 3. Cambridge, MA.

Mendenhall, G. 1987. The Nature and Purpose of the Abraham Narratives. Pp. 337–56 in AIR.

Millard, A. R., and Wiseman, D. J., eds. 1983. Essays on the Patriarchal Narratives. 2d ed. Leicester.

Millard, A. R. 1983. Methods of Studying the Patriarchal Narratives as Ancient Texts. Pp. 35–51 in Millard and Wiseman, 1983.

———. 1988. King Og’s Bed and Other Ancient Ironmongery. Pp. 481–92 in Ascribe to the Lord, ed. L. Eslinger. JSOTSup Sheffield.

Noth, M. 1948. A History of the Pentateuchal Traditions. Trans. B. W. Anderson. Englewood Cliffs, NJ. Repr.

Ramsey, G. W. 1981. The Quest for the Historical Israel. Atlanta.

Selman, M. J. 1976. The Social Environment of the Patriarchs. Tyn Bul 27: 114–36.

———. 1983. Comparative Customs and the Patriarchal Age. Pp. 91–139 in Millard and Wiseman 1983.

Thompson, T. L. 1974. The Historicity of the Patriarchal Narratives. Berlin.

Seters, J. van. 1975. Abraham in History and Tradition. New Haven.

Wenham, G. J. 1983. The Religion of the Patriarchs. Pp. 161–95 in Millard and Wiseman 1983.

Wiseman, D. J. 1983. Abraham Reassessed. Pp. 141–60 in Millard and Wiseman 1983. 

From the New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary (Terence E. Fretheim):

GENESIS 22:1–19, THE TESTING OF ABRAHAM

Commentary

Recent readers of this famous story have been particularly interested in delineating its literary artistry. Significant gains have resulted, but one wonders whether this approach has overplayed its hand by overdramatizing the story and reading too much between the lines. Likewise, religious interpretations, especially in the wake of Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling, seem often to intensify the contradictoriness of the story, perhaps in the interests of heightening the mystery of the divine ways. While the frightening, even bizarre, character of the divine command ought not to be discounted, it should not be exaggerated either.

This story (commonly assigned to E, with supplements) remains firmly within the circle of the family, which suggests an original pre-Israelite setting. At the same time, the theological force of the story takes on new contours as it is passed through many generations (especially vv. 15–19). Exilic Israel may have seen itself in both Abraham and Isaac: God has put Israel to a test in which many children died, has called forth its continuing faith, has delivered it through the fires of judgment and renewed the promises.

Israelite ritual regarding the firstborn informs this text. Israel knew that God could require the firstborn (Exod 22:29), but that God had provided for their redemption (Exod 13:13; 34:20). Here, God does just this: God asks that Isaac be sacrificed and provides an animal “instead of” Isaac. This issue belongs indisputably to the story, but with a metaphorical understanding of Israel as God’s firstborn (see below). The text bears no mark of an etiology of sacrifice (see 4:3–4; 8:20) or a polemic against child sacrifice, clearly abhorrent to Israel, though it was sometimes a problem (cf. Lev 20:2–5; 2 Kgs 3:27; Jer 7:31; 32:35).

This text fits into the larger sweep of Abraham’s life. The relationship between God and Abraham is in progress; it has had its ups and downs, in which each has affected the other. Abraham has exhibited a deep faith and engaged God in significant theological conversation, while God has consulted with Abraham regarding the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah. At the same time, Abraham’s response has been less than exemplary, even distrusting the promise (17:17) and not showing the “fear of God” in relationship to outsiders (see 20:11). His response has raised an issue for God, indeed what God truly knows (v. 12).

Generally, though, this text presupposes “familiar mutual trust” built over no little experience together. From Abraham’s perspective, the God who commands has filled his life with promises; he understands that God has Abraham’s best interests at heart. He has already learned to trust this God. He has no reason to distrust the God from whom this word comes, however harsh and frightening it may be.

The test appears especially poignant in view of the parallels with the story of Ishmael (see 21:8–21). Abraham has just lost his son Ishmael, hence the repeated reference to Isaac as “only son.” Now he is asked to sacrifice his remaining son. We may view these stories as mirrors of each other, focusing on the potential loss of both sons, as well as on God’s providing for both children.

Parallels between Gen 12:1–4 and Genesis 22 provide an overarching structure. Although this divine command does not appear as abrupt as in 12:1, they are similar in other ways, in vocabulary (“take, go” to a “place that I shall show you”), along with Abraham’s silent, but faithful, response. Both are ventures in faith and enclose the story of Abraham; Abraham begins and ends his journey with God by venturing out into the deep at the command of God. The former cuts Abraham off from his past; the latter threatens to cut him off from his future.

We may observe the structure of the entire text in the threefold reference to “your son, your only son” (vv. 2, 12, 16). Also, the repetition of Abraham’s “Here I am,” spoken to God (v. 1), then Isaac (v. 7), and finally God (v. 11) highlights basic moments in the story.

22:1–14. God commands Abraham not to kill or murder his son, but to present him “on the altar” as a burnt offering to God (עלה ʿōlâ; cf. Exod 29:38–46; Lev 1:3–17). The offering language places this entire episode within the context of the sacrificial system. The deed will be a specifically religious act, an act of faith, a giving to God of what Abraham loves (only then would it be a true sacrifice). Inasmuch as sacrifice involves a vehicle in and through which God gives back the life that has been given, the hope against hope for Abraham would be that God would somehow find a way of giving Isaac—or another life—back (hence the link made to the resurrection by Heb 11:17–19). We should note that Abraham does, finally, offer a sacrifice.

Abraham’s silent response to God’s command (on test, see below) may be designed to raise questions in the mind of the reader. Why is Abraham being “blindly” obedient, not raising any questions or objections (especially in view of 18:23–25)? Abraham’s trust in God seems evident in his open stance (“Here I am”) and unhesitating response. At the same time, the text gives us no clue as to his emotional state (e.g., whether he was deeply troubled).

God’s command is accompanied by נא (naʾ), a particle of entreaty or urgency. Rarely used by God (cf. Judg 13:4; Isa 1:18; Isa 7:3), God thereby may signal the unusual character of the moment and the relationship of mutual trust. It may help Abraham to see that God has as much stake in this matter as he does; God needs to know about Abraham’s faith. This may account for Abraham’s silence. However, God does not engage in a ploy, but offers a genuine command. Yet, the command pertains to a particular moment; it is not universally valid. Moreover, God does not intend that the commandment be fully obeyed. Hence, God revokes the command when the results of the test become clear and speaks a second command that overrides the first (v. 12).

We should note the emphasis on “seeing.” Twice, Abraham lifts up his eyes (vv. 4, 13), and five times the verb “to see” (ראה rāʾâ) is used of Abraham (vv. 4, 13) and God (vv. 8, twice in 14). From a distance, Abraham sees the place where God told him to sacrifice Isaac and then, close up, he sees the ram provided at that very place. This process testifies to a progressively clearer seeing. Abraham places his trust in God’s seeing (v. 8) and that trust finally enables him to see the lamb that God has seen to. Seeing saves the son (cf. Hagar’s seeing in 16:13; 21:19, which saves Ishmael).

The writer offers another important feature: “the mountains that I shall show you” (v. 2; cf. 12:1). The narrative stresses it early on (vv. 3–5, 9) and returns to it in v. 14, when a name appears: God will provide. God shows Abraham that place (by v. 3 NRSV). It is as if God has prepared the scene ahead of time, ram and all, and hence Abraham must be precisely directed to it. Moriah, three days’ journey away (a general reference), a place unknown to us, but not to him, may refer to Jerusalem (2 Chr 3:1; cf. “the mount of Yahweh” [v. 14] in Ps 24:3; Isa 2:3). The place name Moriah gives the command a special quality: Abraham will not sacrifice at any altar, but in a specific God-chosen place a great distance away. Might this arrangement have given Abraham a clue to what God intended?

Verses 7–8 are central. The statement “the two of them walked on together” encloses this interchange between Abraham and Isaac. Abraham’s statement of faith that God will provide (v. 8) is the only time Abraham responds more fully than “Here I am.” This is also the only time that Isaac speaks. Note also the movement from the more distancing language of “boy” in v. 5 to the repeated “my son” in vv. 7–8, perhaps testifying to a shift in perspective.

By this point Abraham stays on course because he trusts that God will act to save Isaac. He conveys to Isaac what he believes to be the truth about his future: God will provide. He testifies to this form of divine action in v. 14, as does Israel’s witness to the event “to this day” (v. 14). God tests precisely the nature of Abraham’s response as unhesitating trust in the deity. As God puts it (v. 12), it involves Abraham’s fear of God, a faithfulness that accords with God’s purposes and works itself out in daily life as truth and justice (see 20:11). Abraham obeys because he trusts God; trust out of which obedience flows remains basic. Disobedience would reveal a lack of trust. At least by v. 8 Abraham’s obedience is informed and undergirded by a trust that God will find a way through this dark moment.

Anticipations of this trust occur earlier. In v. 5 Abraham tells his servants that both of them will worship and both will return; the servants witness to this conviction. The author relates the trustful reference to worship with the worship in v. 8. To suggest that Abraham is equivocating or being ironic or deceptive or whistling in the dark finds no basis in the text; such ideas betray too much interest in dramatization. It would be strange for a narrative designed to demonstrate Abraham’s trusting obedience to be punctuated with acts of deception.

Verses 7–8 also focus on Isaac. The author initially devotes attention to Isaac as a child (without recalling the promise). Abraham loves this child (in God’s judgment, v. 2); we should not assume an abusive relationship. Although ignorant of the journey’s purpose, Isaac does not remain entirely passive. He breaks the silence with a question of his father (v. 7)—the only recorded exchange between them. He senses that something is not right (his lack of reference to the knife no more suggests this than does the absence of fire in vv. 9–10). Yet, Isaac does not focus on himself. (Isaac’s emotions are often overplayed.) Isaac addresses Abraham as a loving father, mirroring Abraham’s trusting relationship to God. Abraham responds in like manner.

Abraham centers on what his son has to say, attending to him as he has attended to God (“Here I am”). He does not dismiss Isaac’s question, as if inappropriate. It even elicits Abraham’s trust in God in a public form. Isaac enables his father’s trusting action to be joined with trusting words. While not telling him everything, Abraham does answer Isaac’s question directly and conveys to him what he believes will happen. What had been implicit (v. 5) here becomes explicit. Their walking on together conveys indirectly Isaac’s response. He exhibits no resistance, even later when his father prepares him for the sacrificial moment (some descriptions of the knife go beyond the text). Isaac believes his father’s trust to be well placed. Abraham’s trust in God has become Isaac’s trust: God will provide a lamb, which is God’s intention from the beginning, of course, and Abraham and Isaac are now both attuned to that intention and trust it.

The text also focuses on Abraham’s continuing trust in God. The trusting departure does not settle the issue, or God could have cut off the journey much earlier. The question becomes: Will Abraham stay with the journey? The author stresses the journey as such, which provides opportunity for second thoughts (vv. 6, 8) following each expression of trust (vv. 5, 8). Abraham exhibits his trust in God by staying the course. Only at the end of the journey can God say, “Now I know.”

Tensions in the text also center on God. What is at stake in this for God?

1. God’s testing. God and the reader know this is a test; Abraham does not. God intends not to kill Isaac but to test Abraham’s faithfulness, which is essential if God is to move into the future with him. In responding, Abraham no doubt observes (as do all commentators) the apparent contradictory character of the command: God, having fulfilled the promise of a son, asks Abraham to sacrifice that son and the future that goes with him. The fact that Abraham obeys shows that he trusts God will find a way into the future. God had found a way to fulfill the promise of a son when nothing seemed possible (see 18:14); given that experience, Abraham trusts that this comparably impossible situation will not be beyond God’s ability. Abraham trusts that God’s promise and command are not finally contradictory; whatever conflict there may be, it is up to God to resolve it, and God is up to it.

If Abraham had known in advance that it was a test, it would have been no real test; for he (or anyone) would respond differently to a test from a more indirect method of discernment. Moreover, the test would not work simply at the verbal level; words might not lead to action. Abraham may recognize this fact by his silence, responding in deed rather than word. In the OT, God tests Israel to discern whether they will do justice to a relationship in which they stand (Deut 8:2–3). God can test by discerning the human response to a command: Is Abraham’s loyalty undivided? God initiates the test to gain certainty.

2. God’s knowledge. Brueggemann notes correctly that this test “is not a game with God; God genuinely does not know.… The flow of the narrative accomplishes something in the awareness of God. He did not know. Now he knows.” The test is as real for God as it is for Abraham.

The test is not designed to teach Abraham something—that he is too attached to Isaac, or that Isaac is “pure gift,” or that he must learn to cling to God rather than to the content of the promise. Experience always teaches, of course, and Abraham certainly learns. But nowhere does the text say that he now trusts more in God or has learned a lesson of some sort. Rather, the test confirms a fact: Abraham trusts deeply that God has his best interests at heart so that he will follow where God’s command leads (a point repeated in vv. 12 and 16). The only one said to learn anything from the test is God: “Now I know” (v. 12; on the angel, see commentary on 16:7). God does not teach; rather, God learns. For the sake of the future, God needs to know about Abraham’s trust.

While God knew what was likely to happen, God does not have absolute certainty as to how Abraham would respond. God has in view the larger divine purpose, not just divine curiosity or an internal divine need. The story addresses a future that encompasses all the families of the earth: Is Abraham the faithful one who can carry that purpose along? Or does God need to take some other course of action, perhaps even look for another?

Is the promise of God thereby made conditional? In some sense, yes (see vv. 16–18). Fidelity was not optional. God could not have used a disloyal Abraham for the purposes God intends.

3. God’s vulnerability. Some people read this story as if God were a detached observer, a heavenly homeroom teacher watching from afar to see if Abraham passes the test. But God puts much at risk in this ordeal. God had chosen Isaac as the one to continue the line of promise (at one point Abraham would have chosen Ishmael, 17:18; 21:11). Although God does not intend that Isaac be killed, the test places God’s own promise at risk, at least in the form of the person of Isaac. The command has the potential of taking back what God has taken so many pains to put in place.

This story presents a test not only of Abraham’s faith in God, but of God’s faith in Abraham as well, in the sense that Abraham’s response will affect the moves God makes next. God places the shape of God’s own future in Abraham’s hands. Given his somewhat mixed responses to God up to this point, God took something of a risk to put so much on the line with this man. As E. Roop puts it: “God took the risk that Abraham would respond. Abraham took the risk that God would provide.” One cannot project what God would have done had Abraham failed, or if Abraham had actually killed Isaac, but God would have had to find another way into the future, perhaps another way with Abraham.

Why would God place the promise at risk in order to see whether Abraham fears God? Why not just get on with it, or wait to put Isaac to the test? But, according to vv. 16–18 (and 26:3–5, 24), it is not enough for the sake of the history of the promise that Isaac be born. There are also other promises to be fulfilled. Abraham’s continuing faithful response to God remains a central issue. God waits upon him before getting on with the promised future.

The interpreter may find difficulty in relating Genesis 22 to the divine promises of chap. 15, where God participates in an act of self-imprecation; God’s potential sacrifice there (reinforced here by God’s own oath) correlates with Abraham’s potential sacrifice of Isaac. While the promises are not given a new shape in Genesis 22, they receive a new emphasis in view of Abraham’s response.

4. God’s trustworthiness. The test raises the question of whether God can be trusted. This God promises, proceeds to fulfill that promise, and then seems to take it back. Can readers trust this God only because they know this is a test, and that God does not intend to kill Isaac? For Abraham, trust was there without this knowledge. What will God’s response be?

Abraham departs for the place of sacrifice because he believes that God can require Isaac of him (and of God!); yet he trusts that God will somehow find a way to fulfill the promises. By v. 8 in his long journey, his trust has taken the form that God will provide a lamb. His public confession constitutes a new situation with which God must work. This ups the ante for God. The test no longer involves simply Abraham’s trust but becomes a matter of God’s providing as well. Will Abraham’s trust in God be in vain? Is God free to ignore Abraham’s trust? If God did not provide, then that would constitute another kind of test, at a much deeper level than the one initiating this journey.

If God tests within relationship to determine loyalty, then God cannot disdain the expression of such loyalty. Given God’s previous commitments (especially in chap. 15), God is bound to stay with a trusting Abraham. So God does speak, forbidding the sacrifice of Isaac and providing an animal; even more, God provides it as a substitute for Isaac, “instead of his son.”

5. God’s providing. Why should God be praised as a provider for following through on God’s own test? God appears praiseworthy for being faithful to the commitment to Abraham. But why was the ram even necessary? After discerning that Abraham did fear God, God stopped him before he saw the ram (vv. 12–13). Yet, God provided the ram, and Abraham offered it “instead of his son.” A sacrifice seems necessary, even if not expressly commanded. If not Isaac, then it must be another.

The redemption of the firstborn remains as a concern in this text (Exod 13:13; 22:29; 34:20). But the interest is not etiological or historical. This motif underscores Israel as the firstborn of God (Exod 4:22), an issue faced by the exiles (Jer 31:9, 20; cf. 2:3). This story presents a metaphor for Israel’s life with God, in which Israel becomes both Abraham and Isaac (see below).

22:15–19. These verses report God’s response in straightforward language (reinforced by 26:3–5, 24, but often obscured by efforts to wiggle out of the implications), twice spoken as if to ensure the point: Because Abraham has done this, previously spoken divine promises can be reiterated. The promises were originally made (12:1–3) independently of Abraham’s response. God’s promises create his faith (15:6), though Abraham could still be unfaithful. That is not reversed here so that his faith creates the promises. The covenant in chap. 15 was made with Abraham as a person of faith (as all covenants in the OT are). Here the promises are reiterated (in an emphatic way) to a trusting Abraham. If he had been unfaithful to God, we do not know what would have happened (God may have given Abraham another opportunity), but we do know that the promises would always be there for Abraham to cling to. Having seen Abraham’s faithfulness, God swears an oath for the first time in the narrative, in effect laying the divine life on the line, putting the very divine self behind the promise.

Reflections

1. This is a classic text. It has captivated the imaginations of numerous interpreters, drawn by both its literary artistry and its religious depths. It has played a special role in both Jewish and Christian traditions. Before its depth and breadth one stands on holy ground. But this text also presents problems. It has occasioned deep concern, especially in a time when the abuse of children has screamed its way into the modern consciousness.

Psychoanalyst Alice Miller claims this text may have contributed to an atmosphere that makes it possible to justify the abuse of children. She grounds her reflections on some thirty artistic representations of this story over the centuries. In two of Rembrandt’s paintings, Abraham faces the heavens rather than Isaac, as if in blind obedience to God and oblivious to what he is about to do. Abraham’s hands cover Isaac’s face, preventing him from seeing or raising a cry. Not only is Isaac silenced, but only his torso shows—his personal features are obscured. Isaac “has been turned into an object. He has been dehumanized by being made a sacrifice; he no longer has a right to ask questions and will scarcely even be able to articulate them to himself, for there is no room in him for anything besides fear.”

We may not simply dismiss the possible negative impact of this text; it would not be the first time the Bible has been used knowingly or unknowingly for such purposes. The text contributes to such an understanding, as God asks and then twice commends Abraham for not withholding his son, his only son (vv. 2, 12, 16). Abraham asks no questions, and God offers no qualifications. The child seems to be a pawn in the hands of two “adults” who need to work out an issue between them.

Yet, while moderns might wonder about the psychological abuse Isaac endures in all of this, the narrator gives him a questioning voice, and his father attentively responds to his query. This dialogue leads Isaac to place himself trustingly in the arms of his father and his God. The text offers no evidence that trust in God ever wavers for either father or son. We must be careful to stress these elements for the sake of a proper hearing of the text. Children must be allowed to ask their questions about this text, to which adults should be highly alert.

2. Once again, an Abrahamic text mirrors a later period in Israel’s life. Israel, God’s firstborn, had been sentenced to death by God in the fires of judgment. But exilic Israel remains God’s firstborn (so Jeremiah affirms, 31:9), the carrier of God’s purposes into the future. As Isaac was saved from death, so was Israel delivered from the brink of annihilation. But what of the future? Out of this matrix the Israelites developed an understanding that a sacrifice was necessary to assure Israel’s future, shaped most profoundly in Isaiah 53 (see the use of שׂה (śeh), lamb, in 53:7 and vv. 7–8; cf. Jer 11:19). Israel’s redemption would not occur without cost. At the same time, Israel’s faithfulness was not an optional matter as it moved into a future shaped by God’s promises. The emphasis on descendants in v. 17 also connects well with these exilic concerns (see Isa 51:2, and the renewed interest in Abraham in exile). The NT use of this story to understand the sacrifice of God’s only Son constitutes an appropriate extension of the text (see John 1:14).

3. To trust God does not mean always to respond in an unquestioning way; this text does not commend passivity before God. Chapters 18 and 22 must be kept together, showing that Abraham’s faithfulness to God works itself out in various ways. Perhaps Abraham responds as he does in chap. 22 because he learned from the encounter in chap. 18 that God is indeed just, and that he need only trust on this occasion. The confession that God will provide pertains as much to times of questioning and challenging as to moments of ‘blind’ trust. It may well be the reader who, having learned from Abraham in chap. 18, responds with questions to God’s command to sacrifice Isaac.

Abraham does not simply obey; he obeys because he trusts. He could have obeyed because he was ordered to do so; if God commands, he had better respond. But v. 8 makes clear that he obeys because he trusts God, that God will be faithful and will act in his best interests. Hebrews 11:17–19 posits the Resurrection at this point; if necessary, the promises will remain in and through death. Moreover, Abraham does not claim ownership of the promise, as if it were his possession, as if his faithful response counts for little or nothing (see Jas 2:18–26).

4. This story presents the last dialogue between Abraham and God and between Abraham and Isaac. It follows closely on the heels of the birth of Isaac and precedes Sarah’s death (23:2). The narrative’s literary setting intimates a concern for the (unprecedented) turning of the generations; Isaac now moves out into the world on his own. The absence of an explicit reference to Isaac at the end (v. 19) may witness to a future open to the next generation, with uncertainty as to what will happen to the promises as Abraham moves off the scene.

One promise has been fulfilled. Yet, promises of land, numerous descendants, and being a blessing to the nations remain. What status do these other divine promises have now? Are they a matter of course, to be fulfilled irrespective of Abraham’s (or anyone else’s) faith in God? Are God’s promises now to be carried by genetics, by a natural biological succession? What happens if Abraham ceases to trust God? At times scholars speak of the unconditionality of God’s promise to Abraham in such a way that faith becomes irrelevant. Verses 16–18 together with 26:3–5, 24 make clear, however, that God reiterates the promise to Isaac because of the way in which Abraham responded in faithfulness. Hence, the promise does not automatically or naturally carry on into the family’s next generation.

Although God will never invalidate the promise, people do not participate in the sphere of the promise independently of a faithful response. Abraham could have said no to God, and complicated God’s moves into the future, though not finally stymied them. While the divine word of promise inspires Abraham’s trust (15:6), he could resist the word of God; if that were not the case, then the command would have been no test at all, for the outcome would have been settled in advance. God, however, does not coerce or program Abraham’s fidelity.

The apostle Paul incorporates this point when making the claim that the promises of God cannot be reduced to genetics (Rom 4:16–25; Gal 3:6–9). Those who have faith in the God of Abraham have received the promises irrespective of biological succession.

At the same time, the text does not imply a spiritual succession across the centuries, for the promise takes shape in the actual lives of people, whose own words and deeds are centrally involved in its transmission. This means that the word of God, in some general way, does not provide for the continuity across the generations. God places the promise in the hands of those who are faithful, and their witness ought not to be discounted.

Another way of putting the issue: What happens to faith when the promise reaches fulfillment? Granted, other promises reach out to the future. But receiving the promised son could have tempted Abraham to push other promises to the side: I now have what I want. How do promises already fulfilled affect the relationship with God? Will Abraham’s trust in God still be the core of his life? Will Abraham still ground his life in the divine promises rather than bask in the sunshine of fulfillment? In order to explore these questions, the test focused precisely on the point of fulfillment: Isaac.

5. Testing must be considered relationally, not legalistically. Life in relationship will inevitably bring tests; individuals will often find themselves in situations where their loyalty is tested. What constitutes testing will be determined by the nature of the relationship and the expectations the parties have for it. As a relationship matures and trust levels are built up, faithful responses to the testing of the relational bond will tend to become second nature. Yet, even in a mature relationship, sharp moments of testing may present themselves. Abraham may have faced this kind of moment.

Is the relationship with the deity one in which the people of God can expect to be put to the test again and again? Are there absurd, senseless experiences in life that can become the occasion to turn away from God? There may well be a deep, dark, and seemingly hopeless valley through which we travel. Maybe we think God protects us from such moments, especially those who have been given promises; if God does not protect us, then we will turn away from God. We should learn from this story that receiving promises does not entail being protected from moments where those promises seem to be called into question.

To move to the NT, God does not expect of Abraham something that God would be unwilling to do. God puts Jesus through a time of testing to see if he will be faithful, and hence could be a vehicle for God’s redemptive purposes in the world. God risked that Jesus would not be found faithful. Even more, God put Jesus through a time of testing in the Garden of Gethsemane. How was it possible for Jesus to believe that God would be faithful to promises in such a time? Jesus trusts himself to the will of God, trusting that God will find a way to be faithful to the promises even in the face of death. And God does prove faithful in raising Jesus from the dead.

Some NT words on testing may be helpful: “Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested” (Heb 2:18 NRSV; cf. 4:15). We are promised by 1 Cor 10:13, “God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it” (NRSV). These affirmations do not make trust an option, but we can count on the faithfulness of God, who in the midst of the worst possible testings will provide a way through the fire.