But God said to him, “Do not be so distressed about the boy and your slave woman. Listen to whatever Sarah tells you, because it is through Isaac that your offspring will be reckoned. I will make the son of the slave into a nation also, because he is your offspring.” (Gen 21,12-13)

We saw last time how Abraham "was greatly troubled..." in the previous verse. But what about God? Didn't he have far more reason to be troubled about what had happened? After all, His plan for the world had been greatly complicated because of Ishmael, and for millennia now, much more divine intervention would be needed to ensure that Isaac's divine seed would survive the hatred of his descendants. And how should God even view Abraham, his friend, and this failure of his? Isn't it time for him to get properly scolded, too? He finally sees himself what his actions have led to. Wouldn't now be a good time to do that?

We here reflect and draw conclusions about Abraham because we want to understand the patterns of the spiritual path, to learn lessons for our own lives. But it is not easy for us to see the truth and at the same time to have a heart of grace for those who fail in the face of it. For many would say to Abraham right now the opposite of what God said, namely, "be distressed!"

But God was not now teaching Abraham a lesson. We know that Abraham did not hear God's voice for twelve years after Ishmael was born. This was not a punishment, but rather the result of the separation Abraham had chosen. Then he had to claw his way back. He did, and he climbed higher than he had ever been before. Therefore, God now does not reproach Abraham, but covers the guilt. And He even gives him another promise to alleviate his self-inflicted suffering: 'I will make a nation even of Ishmael...'.

How immense is the grace of God!

...and she (Sarah) said to Abraham, “Get rid of that slave woman and her son, for that woman’s son will never share in the inheritance with my son Isaac.” The matter distressed Abraham greatly because it concerned his son. 12 But God said to him, “Do not be so distressed about the boy and your slave woman. Listen to whatever Sarah tells you... (Gen 21,10-12)

Abraham was distressed over the escalated situation. Actually, no, he was "greatly agonised." For a hundred year old man, such trauma can be truly devastating - deciding to get rid of his own child... He was beginning to understand why it was necessary. The world then was vastly different from ours, and it was not uncommon to resolve fundamental disagreements violently. But though he understood it in his head, his heart agonized over it.

I wonder if he remembered reading some blog post once about the wisdom of not taking the lower road and not begetting Ishmael while waiting for Isaac? He remembered, and he didn't need to be reminded. He saw the reality clearly for himself: the original plan involved three people, each of whom was to benefit from it.

Sarah would no longer feel shame at being barren.

Hagar would go from being one of many whores to almost a princess. No other handmaid had such privileges and such close access to Abraham's family. How jealously the other handmaids looked upon her as she walked through the camp from then on nursing the child, the master's son!

And Abraham, of course, would get what he wanted most in life.

No, there was no need to be reminded: all three of them were now very, very unhappy. Beside Abraham's torn heart, there was Sarah, at first overwhelmed with joy for her own son, then increasingly gloomy with fear for his life and safety. Whenever she met Ishmael and Hagar in the camp, her jealous feelings only increased: they must be gone, can't Abraham see it? Why hadn't he done something long ago? And finally Hagar: she felt as bitter as a queen deprived of the throne on which she had sat for twelve beautiful years. Now her life would be turned upside down, she would be banished to loneliness and worry. What will become of her? And all because of her, that damned woman of Abraham!

All three of them were worried - not three, actually four: after all, Ishmael will lose his world, his family and his own father at the age of thirteen. They say God will take care of him, so he won't perish, but what awaits him - and what will he grow up to be?

Not four, in fact millions of future people have been affected by this move... But we would go too far beyond where any of the protagonists of these events have seen at this point. They had now had enough of the immediate torment they were experiencing. They wondered, why does the world have to be so cruel? And is God... really good?

But, as he who was born according to the flesh then persecuted him who was born according to the Spirit, even so it is now. (Gal 4,29)

We do not find it surprising that Isaac was threatened by Ishmael and not the other way around. After all, at that time Isaac was a small child and Ishmael a teenage boy. But when we consider their later lives, though we don't have much mention of them, it is obvious that the same trend would have continued here. We have only fleeting mentions of Isaac's character, but it is clear from these that he was a gentle man, who, while experiencing God's great blessing, suffered oppression (we are reminded of his disputes with the Philistines, in which it was he who was in the right, but who yielded). On the other hand, the prophecy speaks of Ishmael's fierce, conflicted nature ("He shall be a wild man; his hand shall be against every man, and every man’s hand against him." 16:12). If he had not been sent far to the east, it would naturally have been he who would have attacked, not Isaac.

And so it has always been in this world. The seed of God experiences blessings from heaven, but oppression on earth. From people in the neighborhood, from the state, from members of other religions, from Christians who have not surrendered to God. The spirit of this world finds a way to vent its anger on God's dear people because they do not belong to it and it has no power over them.

And so it has been from the beginning. The first murder was committed by the strong brother Cain, kneading the earth with his plough, on his brother Abel, a bit dreamer who accompanied the sheep in the pasture and often slept with them. Abel's name means "vapor," and characterizes their race, their fragility and vulnerability.

Isaacs, the blessed seed of our age, may have many faults, but one they must not commit: to cause oppression to others, to persecute them. Should they do so, not only will their entire message be lost, but its very core will be irrevocably changed. They may unwittingly move from being the bride to being the harlot without noticing it. "After beginning by means of the Spirit, are you now trying to finish by means of the flesh?" (Gal. 3:3) The history of the Church is proof of this.

For it is written that Abraham had two sons, one by the slave woman and the other by the free woman. His son by the slave woman was born according to the flesh, but his son by the free woman was born as the result of a divine promise. These things are being taken figuratively: The women represent two covenants. One covenant is from Mount Sinai and bears children who are to be slaves: This is Hagar. Now Hagar stands for Mount Sinai in Arabia and corresponds to the present city of Jerusalem, because she is in slavery with her children. But the Jerusalem that is above is free, and she is our mother. ... Now you, brothers and sisters, like Isaac, are children of promise. (Gal 4,22-26.28)

When we think of the sons of Abraham, it is good to realize that they are a picture of spiritual realities that are in contrast as two modes of spiritual life. In the first, man, literally "flesh," his strength and ability, plays a role. Man is supposed to do things, and God should accept them. 

The second mode is the total reliance on God, because the man knows that he can do nothing that is worth anything to God. Only what comes from Him, what is born from above, is of eternal value. Thus the eternal life itself is born in man - without our merit, as a gift from heaven.

But whenever set the two sons in contrast, it must also be emphasized that both bore some measure of the likeness of Abraham - Ishmael was no foreign outcast! It seems puzzling (as it was for Abraham) that they should be separated, that in the end only one was allowed to remain and the other had to go.

Apart from the very practical danger to Isaac, that we have already mentioned, Ishmael and Isaac here represent exactly those incompatible spiritual realities. Like their mothers, they reflect two covenants, but only one of which rests not on the efforts of man (by the power of "the flesh") but on the power of God Himself from above, and is therefore eternal.

What is remarkable about the whole thing is that Paul (seen by some as a great legalist) divides the two covenants according to the degree of inner freedom! The old covenant, which like Ishmael no doubt also bears the marks of God the Father, leads ultimately to bondage. Not intentionally, but because of man's inability to truly fulfill it. Because he lacks the power to live by it, commands are created, systems of regulations that grip the soul and regulate the whole of life. Man strives in vain for something with which only his mind is in harmony, but not his nature. Outwardly he may agree with the morality of the Law, but inward is out of harmony with it.

"But the future Jerusalem is free, and this is our mother." It is only Jesus, the promised Isaac, born into freedom, who sets his followers free and brings them to the heights of life from God, by the transformation of the inward man through the working of the power of the Holy Spirit.f course, if they have truly known him and not departed from him on their journey, like the Galatians.

 For I know that in me (that is, in my flesh) nothing good dwells; for to will is present with me, but how to perform what is good I do not find. / O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? (Rom 7, 18.24)

The same settled conditions that Abraham experienced in his camp until the birth of Isaac, Paul discovered in his spiritual experience. Until the light from on high shone on him, he knew who he was, where he was going, things fit together and made sense to him. What he had been taught was right; it was confirmed to him both by the theses of his teachers and then by his own experience. Thus what he believed became the unshakable anchor of his life. Through this prism, he saw in the world a twofold people: those (the true) who live by the Law, and those who do not, because they have not grown up to it. But since they are not Jews, there is no point in even trying to raise them to these heights; they do not belong to them. Out of these two categories elude the adherents of the certain sect, who, though they do not live in any barbarous manner, pervert the Law, and, above all, spread their doctrine unrestrainedly, which therefore must be prevented.

Paul's personal experience of the struggle he had between the inclination of his own nature and holiness, between the flesh and the spirit, is universally valid and transcends the ages. But the interesting question is: when was it that he saw that goodness did not abide in him? When did he actually exclaim "what a wretched man I am"?

Obviously, he understood this at the moment when the light shone upon him and he was born from above. That is, when his Isaac came into the world. From that moment when God touched his innermost being, he recognized in himself a discord which he had previously suspected, but had been unwilling to acknowledge to that extent or to see its depth: "HOW... (how unspeakably) wretched a man am I!" No, this was not a sentence the Pharisees used to say of themselves. For their Law served them as a mask of arrogance, a label of self-righteousness.

It is mind-boggling to think of the hostility toward Christ that arose because he tore down this mask, so that they led him to the cross. As a result, Christ was hated and killed, not for what He did, but for who He was. Man's inner strife between flesh and spirit, between Ishmael and Isaac, is really no theoretical thing.

Now we, brethren, as Isaac was, are children of promise. But, as he who was born according to the flesh then persecuted him who was born according to the Spirit, even so it is now. (Gal 4,28-29)

This never-ending struggle between flesh and Spirit will continue throughout human history. Ishmael characterizes the fruit of what man can do, what he can handle in his strength - this fruit, of course, takes the outward form of godliness, just as Abraham sought to present Ishmael to God in order to obtain for him the seal of heaven. This is generally the way of all religions, including much of what is presented as Christianity today.

Isaac, on the other hand, is synonymous with that which is impossible for man, that which he cannot do, that which must be done sovereignly by God. From salvation, for which we can do nothing, to victorious life in God, which is not achieved by the power of asceticism or willpower. Both are God's gift, they come by the miracle of the birth of new life. This refers both to "eternal life" as the salvation of the individual, as well as to "life in the Spirit" as our daily walk in the victory over sin.

This fierce struggle of flesh against Spirit has been going on throughout history, "as then that which was born of the flesh persecuted that which was born of the Spirit..." Spiritual things on this earth suffer oppression, persecution, non-acceptance. Little Isaac did not understand at all what made him unacceptable to Ishmael, why he became the center of his hatred, for he had not yet done anything to him. The simple fact that he was born, unexpectedly and miraculously, was enough; it made him a precious gift from above to Abraham, and it stirred up strife. The heavenly birth provokes the hatred of the flesh, of the powers from below. As soon as there is light from God anywhere on earth, darkness launches a battle against it to devour it. For even the birth of Christ was paid for not only by the lives of the babes of Bethlehem, but later in the history of the Church by the multitudes who suffered for the glory of God in later centuries because they came to know the truth. Their persecutors were overwhelmingly religious people.

But the good news is that, despite all the oppression, the darkness did not swallow up the light (Jn. 1:5) and it will never do so.