In these years a branch of the tribe descended from Shem wandered into the great plain between the Tigris and Euphrates. The people settled in the hill country south of Babylon and built a city they called Ur.
And in Ur dwelt a stone carver named Terah, who was to be the father of Abraham.
THE PATRIARCHS
ABRAHAM
The Idol Smasher
IN UR LIVED A man named Terah, who carved the stone idols that were worshipped by the people of that land. His sons helped him in his work, and his youngest son was named Abram.
One day, when Abram was twenty years old, Terah fell sick and left Abram to watch the shop.
A man came in and said to Abram, “I would buy this idol. Tell me the price.”
Abram said: “I will tell you the price if you tell me your age.”
“I am thirty years old.”
“Thirty years old,” said Abram. “And yet you would buy this idol, which I made this morning.”
The man left the shop. Then Abram put a rope about the necks of two idols and dragged them into the street, crying, “See what you worship. It has a mouth but speaks nothing, eyes but sees nothing, feet but does not walk, ears but does not hear.”
Terah was told what his son was doing and feared for his life. He rose from his bed and hurried to the shop. In the meantime Abram had smashed the idols with a mallet. Then, hearing his father come, he put the mallet in the hands of the largest idol, which stood unhurt.
Terah entered the shop, crying, “What have you done? You have broken the idols! Just so will the king destroy us!”
Abram said: “Father, I did not smash the idols. It was the largest idol who smashed the smaller ones. Let the king destroy him.”
But the king heard that his stone gods had been smashed, and he ordered Abram to be burned alive.
A great multitude gathered to see this death. The executioner put a torch to the wood and made the flames leap in the fire that was to receive Abram. But a small rain came and put out the flames.
Another fire was lighted. Again rain fell from a cloudless sky and put out the flames, and the king was afraid.
Then Satan appeared to him and said: “I will build a roof over the flames to stop the rain, but you are to put Abram into a catapult and cast him swiftly into the flames.”
Thereupon Abram was bound hand and foot and placed into the catapult and slung into the flames. The king shouted with joy, crying, “Can your god save you now?”
And Abram said: “I trust in Him. He is the maker of heaven and earth and will rescue me.”
Whereupon it was seen that the wood piled around Abram had burst into a bud, like the living tree from which it had been cut, and that the flames were red flowers growing, and Abram was unharmed.
When the king saw this he cried, “Witchcraft! Fire cannot harm you. You stand among the flames as in a garden.”
But all the people who watched cried in a great voice, “No, King, it is not witchcraft, but the great God, God of Abram, the living God.”
And many who watched that day followed Abram when he left the land of Ur.
Journey to Canaan
Abram’s father, Terah, knew now that it was time to leave the country. He sold house and shop and stone-carving tools and bought a large herd of goats. He departed from Ur in the Chaldees. With him went his son Abram, and his grandson, Lot, son of Abram’s dead brother, and his daughter-in-law, Sarai.
After a journey of many months they came to a city called Haran, and pastured their flock in the fields beyond the city, and raised tents and rested. But Terah never resumed the journey. He died in Haran.
Abram was now seventy-five years old, but he had no child. His wife was barren.
Then God spoke to Abram: “Leave this place. Leave your father’s tents and come to a land that I shall show you. And I will make you a mighty nation. I will bless them that bless you, and curse him who curses you. And in you shall all the families of the earth be blessed.”
Abram did as God had commanded. He took his wife, Sarai, and his nephew, Lot, and all their flocks and their servants and their goods, and journeyed out of Haran into Canaan. He passed through the land until he came to the plain of Moreh. There God appeared to him, casting a light more brilliant than the sun. Abram fell to the ground, hiding his eyes;
God said: “I give this land to your children and your children’s children.”
Abram raised an altar on the spot where the Lord had appeared in His radiance. He traveled southward then, still dazzled by that strange light, and able to think only of God’s voice and what it had said. He came to a mountain where he pitched his tent and built another altar. He stood upon that ground all night without sleep, gazing at the heavens and trying to think of ways to call to the Lord, for in him was the hunger to look again upon that radiance. And he called that place Beth-el, or “the house of God.” He journeyed on, going southward.
He made his way across a vast stony plain, poor in grass. Most of his sheep died; his goats grew very thin. His followers drifted away. Finally there were only Abram and Sarai, his nephew, Lot, Lot’s wife, their young daughters, and a few old herdsmen and servants. The sun stabbed at them; they were battered by sudden hail. Sandstorms blew up, and they had to cover their mouths and noses with cloth as they slogged on. They were filthy, exhausted, half-starved. No one seeing this wretched family inching across the plain would have believed they were destined to become a mighty nation. But the Lord has a way of concealing His intentions.
Abram spoke to God, saying, “We have come to the land you promised, and behold, we starve!”
God answered, “Fear not, Abram. I am your shield.”
And God sent Abram a vision of sparkling streams and green pastures—and of the way to get there. Abram rose and roused the others, and they toiled into the wilderness again.
The servants complained, saying, “Our master wanders aimlessly. He has lost the way and we are all lost.”
But Abram ignored their complaints and drove them on through sandstorms and pitiless heat. Finally he led them through a narrow mountain pass to a valley where a river ran, and the fields were green and lush. There they raised their ragged tents and pastured their herds.
Now came a time of increase. Abram’s goats fed on the rich fields and grew fat. The herd multiplied. He kept sheep and cattle and donkeys. Abram lived at peace with his neighbors. He obeyed God and prospered. He became a man of wealth, with many servants.
But for all his wealth he felt poor, because he and Sarai were still childless. He spoke to God, saying, “Oh, Lord God, what can I do with what you give me, seeing that I am without child? Yes, I am childless and a cousin of Damascus must inherit my wealth. You have given me no seed, so what do you mean when you say that a son born in my house is to be my heir?”
Abram heard the voice of the Lord answering him, “This man of Damascus shall not be your heir. He that comes forth out of your own body shall be your heir. Look up, Abram. Look now toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them. That is how many your seed shall be. For I am the Lord who brought you out of Ur in the Chaldees to give you this land as an inheritance. And your sons shall inherit.”
Abram said: “Make me a sign, O Lord, that I may know it is your voice I hear and not the voice of a vain dream that I have conjured out of my sleep.”
The Lord said: “Your visions also come from me. It is my voice, and this is my sign: Take a cow three years old, and a she-goat three years old, and a three-year-old ram, and a turtle dove and a young pigeon, and lay them upon my altar.”
Abram did so. Eagles and hawks stooped, screaming, upon the carcasses, but Abram drove them away and stood in the heat of the sun, watching for a sign. The Lord made a deep sleep fall upon Abram. A great darkness fell upon him, and the darkness was full of fear.
In the depths of that fear Abram heard God’s voice saying, “You must know surely that those who spring from your seed shall be strangers in a land that is not
theirs, and shall serve those who dwell there. They shall be enslaved and afflicted for four hundred years. But that nation that has enslaved them shall be judged by me. And afterward the tribes that have sprung from the sons of your sons shall come out of that land with great wealth. But you, Abram, shall go to your fathers in peace when your time comes. But that time is not yet. For I have much for you to do.”
Now Abram saw a smoking furnace, huge as a mountain, gushing fire. A torch was born of that fire and floated down past his face in the darkness. The torch hovered over the altar and passed between the bodies of the animals.
Again Abram heard the Lord say: “To your seed have I given this land. From the river of Egypt called the Nile to the great river Euphrates, all this shall belong to your sons.”
Hagar
Sarai said to Abram: “The Lord has promised you a son. I have borne you no son, nor a daughter. I am barren. Therefore you must have your son by another woman. Take my maid Hagar, the Egyptian. Make her your second wife. If you take her who has been my handmaid and who has served me well, then I shall own some portion of the son she bears you.”
“You have always been the most beautiful of women,” said Abram. “Now you show yourself the most understanding.”
Hagar was slender as a gazelle with great dark, brimming eyes. She had adored Abram since she was a tiny girl, and was overjoyed now to become his second wife. And she scorned Sarai, secretly at first. But when she knew that her womb had been quickened by Abram’s seed, she began to treat Sarai with great disdain.
Sarai said to Abram: “Your new wife, Hagar, has grown very proud. I know that she is young and fruitful, and that I am old and barren. But I have been your wife for seventy years and cannot bear to be treated like a servant.”
Abram said: “You are my only true wife, from now until the end of our days. No one else means anything to me. Hagar is yours to do with as you please.”
Sarai summoned Hagar to her and said: “You think you have taken my place in my husband’s heart, but it is not so. He has told me to do what I please with you.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Hagar.
“You will have reason to believe it,” said Sarai. “You deserve death for the insult you have offered me. If I refrain from killing you now, it is only because you carry my husband’s child. But walk softly. Cast your eyes to the ground when you pass me, and do not speak unless I speak to you first. Or I shall flog the flesh from your bones.”
Hagar did not answer, but slipped out of Sarai’s sight. She knew the depth of Sarai’s nature, and feared for her life. She slid into Abram’s tent and stayed out of sight in that fragrant dusk. When he returned, she helped him doff his dusty robes, then washed his feet and dried them with her long hair. He accepted her attentions, but did not smile.
“Master, master, are you displeased with me?”
“You have been a foolish girl. You have been sowing mischief in my household.”
“Perhaps my wits have been addled by the glory to which you have raised me. Perhaps I have conducted myself unwisely. Does such a thing merit death?”
“Who speaks of death?”
“Sarai, your wife. She threatens to kill me. Will you let her kill me, my lord?”
“You have angered her.”
Then Hagar knew that she was lost. Without another word, without stopping to provide herself with food and drink, she stole away from the tents of Abram and out into the wilderness, risking starvation and prowling beasts rather than the wrath of Sarai.
She found a fountain of water in the wilderness and stopped to drink. The tracks of great animals led to the fountain, and she knew it was where lions and bears and leopards came down to drink. And she was afraid.
An angel of the Lord appeared to her. He was huge; his wings were of brass and he carried a sword. He glittered terribly in the sunlight. The girl fell to her knees. She heard a voice full of enormous music, saying, “Hagar, servant of Sarai, where are you coming from?”
“From the tents of Abram.”
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. Anywhere I find myself. I am fleeing my mistress, Sarai.”
“Return to her,” said the angel.
“She will kill me.”
“Submit yourself to her. She will not kill you.”
“I do not fear for myself, but for the child I carry.”
“Fear nothing. I serve Him who rules heaven and earth. I carry His message. Obedience to His will must banish fear.”
“Tell me what to do.”
“Return to Sarai. Walk softly before her. You shall bear your child in her tent; a son you shall bear. You shall call him Ishmael, which means ‘God hears,’ because God has heard your voice in the wilderness and has answered.”
“Thank you for your mercy, God Most High. Thank you, bright messenger.”
The angel spoke again. “Know this, Hagar. Your son will be a wild beast of a man, enemy to everyone, and seeing enmity everywhere. And his seed shall be a numberless multitude. He shall spawn nations who shall vex the sons of Sarai.”
Hagar wept with joy, and raised her voice to the Lord : “O invisible one who sees everything, I thank you. I turn my eyes everywhere, but I do not see you though you are there. Merciful and mighty God, I love you and shall do your will.”
Thereupon she returned to the tents of Abram and walked modestly before Sarai. And Sarai buried her wrath.
Hagar bore Abram a son, who was named Ishmael. Abram was eighty-six years old when Ishmael was born, and he rejoiced in the birth of his son. But he wished in his heart that Sarai had been the mother of his firstborn.
The Covenant
When Abram was ninety-nine years old, God appeared to him and said: “I am the Almighty God. Walk before me and be perfect in your obedience. And I shall make a covenant with you and with your sons, who shall be numberless.”
Abram saw a radiance brighter than the sun and heard the voice he hungered to hear—a voice that spoke in thunderous syllables like storm, like whirlwind, like tidal wave, then sank to leaf fall, to birdsong, to the secret whisper of his own blood.
Abram fell to the ground, hiding his face from that enormous light. He heard God say, “My covenant is with you. You shall be the father of many nations. No longer shall your name be Abram; it shall be Abraham, ‘father of nations.’ For you shall be fruitful. You shall spawn nations. Kings shall come of you. This covenant shall not be broken. It binds me to your seed unto the last generation. They shall inherit this land of Canaan that I have given you, and it shall be theirs forever.
“And you shall cut a token of my promise into your flesh in a place that will be a sign to your seed at the moment of conception. A male child shall be circumcised when he is eight days old and wear the sign of my covenant forever. As for Sarai, your wife, her name, too, shall be changed. Her name shall be Sarah, ‘the princess,’ because she shall be the mother of nations, and kings shall be born of her.”
Then Abraham laughed and said to himself: How can I father a child at my age? And my wife, Sarah, who is ninety years old, how can she bear a child?
And Abraham said to the Lord: “I have one son and am too old to have another. I beg you to bless my son, Ishmael.”
God said: “Your wife, Sarah, shall indeed bear you a son, whom you shall name Isaac. It is Isaac who shall inherit the covenant; his sons shall inherit this land. But I will not forget Ishmael. Twelve princes shall he father, and they shall become a strong nation. But the great inheritance belongs to Isaac, whom Sarah shall bear in a year’s time.”
Abraham obeyed God’s word and circumcised himself and all the men of his household, and his son, Ishmael, who was thirteen years old.
Now, Abraham was grazing his flocks on the plain of Mamre, and the Lord sent three angels there. They did not appear in their own bright form, but as three travelers. They came in the heat of the day, as Abraham sat in his tent door; they were dusty and stained with travel. But Abraham immediately recogn
ized them as coming from the Lord.
“You are welcome,” he said. “Rest yourselves in the shade of this tree. My servants will bring water to wash your feet, and a bit of bread, for you must be hungry.”
He hurried to Sarah and said: “We have guests, very special guests. A mighty thing is happening, but I don’t know what. Prepare a small feast as quickly as you can.”
Sarah kneaded three measures of her finest wheat flour and baked cakes upon the hearth. She ordered a shepherd to kill a calf and dress it. It was a young one, fat and tender, and the savor of its smoke rose to the sky as it roasted over an open fire.
Abraham and Sarah served the guests with their own hands, bringing them the roasted calf, newly baked cakes, butter, and milk. The men ate. One of them said: “Do you know who we are?”
“You come from the Lord,” said Abraham. “Do you bring a message?”
“He brings His own message. We are here to prepare His coming.”
Abraham and Sarah knelt to the ground before the strangers and kissed the hem of their robes. Then they hastened to bathe themselves and put on fresh garments. They came out of the tent and heard the voice of the Lord: “Abraham, your wife Sarah shall bear a son, as I have promised.”
Sarah laughed in her heart and said to herself: My husband and I are very old. Shall we return to such pleasures? And will I have a child as well?
One of the strangers said: “Why does Sarah laugh when the Lord tells her she will bear a child? Is anything too hard for the Lord?”
Sarah was afraid. She said: “I did not laugh.”
“You did,” said the stranger. “You laughed. Therefore, the son you bear next year shall be named Isaac, meaning ‘laughter.’ ”
Abraham believed what God had promised. Sarah wished to believe, but still doubted.
Sodom and Gomorrah
Signs and Wonders Page 4