The Longer (and More Important?) Abraham Story

I want to clarify why Genesis 22 unrolls the way it does. Isaac isn’t the sacrifice there  just because “it’s the most horrific thing we can think of.” Abraham’s test goes far beyond that, but in order to grasp it, we have to start back in Genesis 12, and see how the events unfold, culminating with Isaac. Genesis 22 is thus intimately connected to the events of the preceding chapters, and if we ignore them, we misunderstand. This is one of those times we look so much at one tree that we miss the forest around it. Edit: As Ardis Parshall pointed out to me, all of this shows that the command to sacrifice Isaac in Genesis 22 was not arbitrary nor is it “out of the blue.”

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Good literature and film revolve around conflict, obstacles to be overcome. Think about the apparent lack of conflict and obstacles in Fourth Nephi, which probably explains why it’s so chronologically compressed. At least as it was passed down to Mormon and edited for us, it was a golden age of sorts, so there’s simply not a lot to write about, no conflict.

Sometimes, there is a surprising twist (and sometimes the twists are not so surprising.) Looking at these ten chapters from a literary perspective will help make sense of the final events in Genesis 22. The “happily ever after” that is obstructed in the Abraham narrative is the fulfillment of God’s covenantal promise set out in Genesis 12, land and offspring numerous as the sands of the sea.

Genesis 12-22 enumerate a dozen or so obstacles that must be overcome before the fulfillment of that promise. The primary and first obstacle is this; how is an old childless couple going to have a child? Infertility in the Biblical world was an issue.¹I think I’ll write a post on this. Second, being naturally childless or “barren” in Old Testament terms is one thing, but who can handle the stresses of pregnancy and a toddler at the age of 90 or so? A third major obstacle arises almost immediately: famine. If Abraham or Sarah die, there can be no heir(s) to fulfill God’s promises. They have to live, and the heir has to live. So Abraham does the logical ancient Near Eastern thing and goes to Egypt, the breadbasket of his ancient world. Obstacle overcome!

As is so often the case, resolving one issue raises another. Once in Egypt, Sarah “was taken into Pharaoh’s household” (Gen 12:15). How can Abraham and Sarah have children if they are physically separated, and Sarah is sexually threatened by Pharaoh? (Such, at least, is the obvious intent of the Egyptians’ actions.) This obstacle is overcome by God, with no apparent negative effects but heightened tension… and Abraham becoming wealthy.

Abraham and Sarah— back together again,  famine apparently over, and Abraham enriched — return to south Canaan. Now, a native reader might have a suspicion about the resolution of the plot that modern readers don’t. In Mesopotamia, Abraham’s homeland, childless couples might adopt a cousin or nephew or someone else as their “son” thus making him their legal inheritor and namesake. ²Study Bibles will make this point. Indeed, Abraham’s nephew Lot becomes prominent at this point in the Abraham narrative. Would Israelites hearing this story suspect that God’s promises would be fulfilled through Lot? If so,  what of this maybe-heir? While things initially seem quite good— the land is fertile, and they are so wealthy they can’t even live together— Lot is a head fake.

Almost immediately (Genesis 14), Lot’s life is at stake by being caught up in the middle of a war between kings, captured, and hauled north. If he is to be the heir, then the covenant and promise are threatened. Conflict! Obstacle! Abraham and 318 men rescue Lot, going as far north as Dan (Gen 14:14)³Note the name is anachronistic. Dan is one of Abraham’s descendants. which will later be the northern boundary of Israel. This implies a campaign of some days, even weeks. (Insert military action/training montage here?) But Lot is rescued, thanks to Abraham, and perhaps his servant Eliezer,  whose Hebrew name adds up to 318, the oddly precise number of Abraham’s militarily trained men never before and never again mentioned.

Indeed, when we reach Genesis 15, God again promises land to Abraham’s innumerable offspring, and Abraham explicitly opines that not Lot but his servant Eliezer will be his heir.  Gen 15:2-3, “O Lord GOD, what will you give me, for I continue childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?… You have given me no offspring, and so a slave born in my house is to be my heir.”

Not Lot but Eliezer will fulfill the covenant! Who saw that twist coming? Again, in good Mesopotamian fashion, a faithful servant could also be adopted as heir. But God says, not so; Gen 15:4 “This man shall not be your heir; no one but your very own issue shall be your heir.” (In the rest of the chapter, God binds himself on pain of death to fulfill the promises he’s made to Abraham, it’s a covenant-making ritual.)

Genesis 16 moves the plot forward, but sets up for yet more obstacles. In keeping with good Mesopotamian ways of treating infertility, Sarah proposes that they have a child through her servant Hagar. (This is not something she comes up with herself.) And lo! A child of Abraham’s flesh and blood, the beginning of the fulfillment!

However, this child creates a rift. Sarah sends Hagar and Ishmael away, only to have them saved by an angel. In essence, the conflict between Sarah and Hagar is resolved by the angel instructing Hagar to submit to Sarah. That the angel tells Hagar that her descendants will be innumerable reinforces the idea that this is the covenantal son, the fulfillment of the promise to Abraham.

In Genesis 17, however, we read that God himself will overturn the primary obstacles in the way. Ishmael will not be the covenant son, because Sarah will become pregnant in spite of her age. Not only will the covenant son be of Abraham, but of Sarah as well, not a proxy, not an adoption. God renews the covenant, and gives Abraham a sign of the covenant: circumcision. Note Abraham’s remonstration, arguing that Ishmael is good enough (Gen 17:18).

Skipping a bit (Sodom and Gomorrah, Sarah’s second abduction by the king of Gerar in Gen 20:2), and we think  we can see the end from here, can we not? Abraham and Sarah, the wealthy, righteous aged couple with a son of their own, a son who both fulfills and propagates God’s covenant! Gen 21:1-3 details the birth of Isaac… except there’s that other son who was born to Hagar.  New conflict!

Ishmael apparently treats Isaac in a way that triggers Sarah’s protective maternal instinct, and they are again sent away. Gen 21:9 is difficult to convey. The verb can carry positive overtones “play, laugh” as in  Gen 21:6, but also negative overtones, “mock, jest, deride” as in Gen 19:14. At least once, it carries sexual overtones, in Gen 26:8. But most significantly, Abraham laughs when God tells him Sarah would bear the child, in Gen 17:17. (So does Sarah  in Gen 18:12.) And when Isaac is born, his name is a cognate of this verb, “he laughs” (per divine command in Gen 17:19.)  So a number of commenters point out that this same verb, in the particular form it’s in at Gen 21:9, can also be understood as “Ishmael was Isaac-ing.” That is, as Robert Alter explains, whereas

Mocking laughter would surely suffice to trigger her outrage. Given the fact, moreover, that she is concerned lest Ishmael encroach on her son’s inheritance, and given the inscription of her son’s name [Isaac] in this crucial verb, we may also be invited to construe it as “Isaac-ing-it”— that is, Sarah sees Ishmael presuming to play the role of Isaac, child of laughter, presuming to be the legitimate heir.

(I note that Alter looks to be both on sale and have a $27 coupon today on Amazon.)

Finally, though, all threats are removed, all obstacles overcome. God has repeatedly made promises which are beginning to be fulfilled and made Abraham wealthy along the way. Isaac is the fulfillment of the covenant and the symbol of the future that they have fought for through ten chapters, overcoming human (Pharaoh; the King of Gerar), military (Lot and the war), natural (famine), familial (Ishmael and problems with Lot), and all other obstacles.

But now a final obstacle arises, more threatening than all; not just an obstacle to fulfillment, it promises the very destruction of the covenantal blessings! Further elevating the tension, the one who set Abraham on this path by offering him the covenant is now the very one who threatens it! Abraham left his homeland and family because he was promised an entire land and a new innumerable family. For Abraham and Sarah, all of those past promises now culminate in Isaac, and all future promises yet to be fulfilled are transmitted through him. His death would effectively symbolize a nullification of the covenant, no offspring, no land. Is Abraham willing to remain faithful to God even if He sweeps away the covenantal promises of land, children, and the accompanying wealth he has reiterated so many times? (Echoes of both Job and the rich young man in Luke 18:18-30?)

It’s easy to follow someone when each step, difficult as it may be, has a distinct payoff, as Abraham has received all along the way. It’s much more difficult to remain faithful when no such blessings materialize at each step.  Does Abraham remain faithful because it is right, or because he benefits from it? (Echoes of “the accuser’s”  barbed taunt in Job 1:9-11?)  Will Abraham remain faithful if he ceases to benefit from it? Is he willing to forgo everything God has promised after fighting for it for so long, and overcoming so many obstacles?

To answer the original question, then, the sacrifice in Gen 22 must be Isaac, not merely because of the utter horror of a father killing a son (though that certainly contributes in a very visceral way), but because of everything Isaac stands for; similarly, the sacrifice must be performed by Abraham, because he is the one who was promised everything Isaac represents. The tension and stakes have been built up over 10 chapters, and just as it appears to be resolved, the final twist is that it may all come crashing down, dependent on Abraham’s decision.

Understanding how all the leadup contributes to the stakes in Gen 22 helps us understand the full depth and extent of the test of Abraham’s faithfulness. It also demonstrates that the command to sacrifice Isaac in Genesis 22 was not arbitrary nor was it “out of the blue.”

There are a

host of scriptural and historical incidents that illustrate how unwavering obedience is sometimes more flexible than deciding our own limits. The hazard of inflexible obedience is that we accept directives that are not from God; the risk of deciding our own limits is that we reject commandments that are of God. From Abraham to Heber C. Kimball and up through today, the Lord has had the unnerving habit of wrenching heartstrings and asking the preposterous. It seems that counting the cost is something the Lord expects from generals and architects, but dislikes in his disciples. The Abrahamic tests go beyond the bounds of rational theology, at least in the moment when decisions are made. To say “this cannot be of God,” “beyond here I will not go,” or “God would never ask this” is to run the risk of being too narrow, and almost certainly the demands of discipleship will press us until we shatter like glass.

– “What Sunstone Means to People Like Me.” Sunstone, July 1981.

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