Genesis 12:1-9 Commentary

Sacrifice

We ordinarily approach this text as a promise, the start of God’s covenant with Israel.  It is not a promise without sharp edges and a demand for sacrifice, even. Jewish scholar, Rashi, notes this with careful comparison between this text (Genesis 12) and a later, obviously sacrificial text (Genesis 22).  In Genesis 22, it seems as though God is demanding from Abraham all he has promised Abram in Genesis 12.  In Genesis 22, God asks Abraham to sacrifice “your son, your only one, whom you love.” This triplicate finds a parallel in Genesis 12 in which God asks Abram to leave “your land and your birthplace and your father’s house”.  Comparing the two, Robert Alter observes, “The series in each case focuses the utterance more specifically from one term to the next.”  Because we know the rest of the story, we might be quick to jump to the blessing, the promise and the faithfulness of God in this text.

For those who share my Western cultural assumptions, change is often equated with progress and progress is often the point, the highest good of a life well-lived. In this case, “moving on” is a necessity, not a travesty because place is not central to identity.  Of course, the original readers of this story would have held a great deal more significance and identity to location and geography. The author emphasizes this with the Hebrew poetic devise of repetition. This isn’t just a place, it is the place Abram was born.  It isn’t just the place Abram was born, it holds the story of his people. God’s ask is not simple or easy. Bill Arnold observes, Yahweh required Abram to give up the security of his social sanctuary and familiar support — so central to ancient tribal sensibilities — in order to depend on Yahweh alone while follow this directive.” It is heartbreaking in much the same way that is more obvious to us in Genesis 22.

Nomads

Verse 4 tells us “so Abram went” and we would do well to sit with that for longer than a moment.  Bill Arnold cast this “one of the most remarkable statements of the Bible.” Abram’s obedient answer to God’s directive comes immediately in the text where we might expect that “soooooooooooooo” to be dragged out in real time. It is certainly the case that Abram and his descendants do doubt, prevaricate, circle back, ask for signs and the lot of it.  Given the nature of the ask and then what we know about these characters subsequently, Arnold suggests, “We might expect any manner of dialogue or debate between verses 3 and 4, or hesitation on Abram’s part motivated by confusion, self-doubt, or stubbornness.”  Instead, what this text intends to communicate is “a picture of bold and radical dependence on God’s word, the diametric opposite of Adam and Even’s rationalization, which makes Abram’s obedience a model of faith for the rest of the Bible.”

Genesis 12 is the beginning of the story of a great wander, a nomadic people, a thematic anchor for the rest of the Hebrew Scriptures.  It begins with very particular vocabulary. Verse 8 in the NIV says that Abram “went on” but, in fact, the impact of the languages is better captured in Alter’s translation: “he pulled up stakes.” Alter reflects on his linguistic choices, “The Hebrew vocabulary in this sequence is meticulous in reflecting the procedures of nomadic life. The verb for ‘journey’ in verse 9 also derives from another term for the pulling up of tent stakes, and the progressive form in which it is case is a precise indication of movement through successive encampments.”

This image of wandering, of sojourning, of being present but not quite belonging to the powers and principalities of this world is a key theme for the development of Christian ethics.  This image has huge implications for the questions: who are we and how are we meant to move through this world. Relying heavily on this metaphor in their classic text, Resident Aliens, Stanley Hauerwas and Will Willimon argue that the church serves as an outpost for the Kingdom of God and shapes the ethics of the people of God “by (1) placing us within an adventure that is nothing less that God’s purpose for the whole world, and (2) communally training us to fashion our lives in accordance with what is true rather than what is false.”  This promise will bear out through the rest of Abraham’s story, as well as in the life of his descendants, the people of Israel, and—also, for Christian interpreters—this is a motif picked up in the New Testament as well.  See I Peter 2:9-12, specifically.

Worship Idea

It is striking that Bill Arnold refers to Abram’s response to God’s call “a model of faith for the rest of the Bible.”  In fact, it also serves as a model of faith for the rest of Abram’s life.  Rarely does he live up to his own example, even in the remainder of Genesis’ retelling of it.  It is worth thinking, then, about the alter Abram builds in verse 8 as a way of also thinking about the places that deserve a moment’s pause in our own lives and journeys of faith.  Looking back, perhaps we can remember moments of great faith, experiences of calling, obedience even to strange and difficult commands.

As part of the worship service, you might consider passing out river rocks, about palm-size, in the congregation.  As you preach about Abram’s obedience, you might also invite 2-3 people to share testimonies of times in their own lives when they were asked to obey in similar ways.  Note: this doesn’t mean their lives have been “perfect submission” ever since.  What it means is that they, like Abram, have a moment to look back on, a place to anchor themselves, a memory to hold them accountable.  During a song of response, you could invite the congregation to come forward, contributing their stone (and the memory they associate with it) to build an altar of remembrance.  Since we will be in the Abram/Abraham story over the coming month, this may be something to keep front-and center both physically and spiritually in the weeks to come.