Someone said that the worst thing that can happen to a man of God is a silent God. The man who does not believe in God and does not count on Him has it easier, something like that does not frighten him (at least for the time being). But on the one who has come to know, the weight of silence begins to lie, which is not overcome in the way we usually respond - by intensified religious zeal, by swearing or by offering sacrifices (i.e. asceticism). It is as if these things do not interest God at all if the inner attitude of man is not in order. Often it is obedience on some particular issue about which God has spoken to man which is very important to Him. It doesn't help to leave it out and instead offer an overabundance of effort in ten other areas where we obey quite gladly.

Abram may have continued to run his farm judiciously, set an example for his neighborhood, and helped the poor who sought their camp. He gave generously to them out of the surpluses with which the farm abounded. But his inner life for the next thirteen years was split between two positions. The pleasure in his son and the joy in seeing his first steps and growth. But on the other side, the strange feeling that he had lost the intimacy of God, the blessing of heaven that had been so close to him before. In the moments when he realized this, the joy in Ishmael fell away and filled him rather with a certain gloominess. It was as if he did not know what to do next.

One day he was visited by some people with invitation to a meeting that was held in a large tent on the plain outside Gomorrah. They were smiling and trying to please Abram. God loves you, they told him. I know, Abram replied thoughtfully. He loves you just the way you are! I know, he said. And you don't have to do anything to make it so. Yes, I know that too. Will you come then to rejoice and receive new strength of faith?

He answered them, after some meditation, "Don't be angry, but I can't now. You mean well, but I won't fool myself. My heart is bleeding. For I have met the Lord face to face. It's not enough to paint heaven in my mind. I want to experience it for real, like I used to. But I can't, and I think I know why.

The only thing I don't know is how I can get it back."

 

Abram was eighty-six years old when Hagar bore Ishmael to Abram. (Gen 16,16)

After Ishmael's birth, joy outweighed the other restless thoughts that were in Abram's mind. First, there were the echoes of his conflicts with Sarah, but also the insistent feeling that something was different now in relation to God. It was as if he didn't perceive God as he used to, and couldn't find his way to Him in his heart. Abram was aware that by begetting Ishmael he had expressed his distrust of God. If he had followed him to Canaan before and recognized how real God was in comparison to his earlier idols, how he was guiding him and blessing him, had he not dismissed it all and expressed that it would actually have been easier to stay in his native land, not leave it at all, and beget a descendant with a slave girl there? He must have asked himself if he still believed God's promise that he would be heir to the land, since he did not believe the promise of a child. Was God really deceiving him?

Abram waited so that God came close again and spoke to him. Slowly, he began to recognize that it would also be up to him to confess his error. After the critical experience of the last few months, it was impossible not to see the difference between walking on the blessed paths, or experiencing the restlessness of the ways in which he had stubbornly asserted his will against God's.

But the oppressive silence that lay between his tent and heaven did not disappear for another thirteen years. Heaven was closed and God no longer came to him.

So the one who heard the last word that came from God to Abram's house was - Hagar. But it wasn't a word that would uplift Abram. Especially as he could see more and more clearly in the years to come the character of Ishmael coming to expression. Abram watched the boy grow up and realized that he hadn't experienced an encounter with God like he used to since Ismael had been in the world.

While forgiveness can be obtained freely because it does not depend on us, spiritual riches cannot. When Abram set out on the path of discipleship, he climbed higher for eleven years. He came to know God in his life's journey and through the revelations he received because he was close to God, but then he lost this wealth through his unbelief. It would seem that the self-will and walking in his own ways would be a minor episode that he would just confess and in a turn of events be back where he was before. But this is not true of spiritual fullness. One has to climb again the mountain on which one used to stand.

The second ascent, however, is much more difficult.

And the Angel of the Lord said to her: “Behold, you are with child, and you shall bear a son.
You shall call his name Ishmael, because the Lord has heard your affliction. He shall be a wild man; his hand shall be against every man, and every man’s hand against him. (Gen 16,11-12)

Unable to cut himself off from Hagar and the child, Abram chose a somewhat alibi solution to Sarah's insistence - he left Hagar to her own devices. Sarah bullied her until Hagar ran away from her. During a stop at the spring, a messenger of God visited her and told her to humble herself and return. A lonely pregnant woman had little chance of survival.

After Hagar's departure, Abram was overwhelmed with tremendous pain, for in doing so he had lost his only child. When Hagar returned shortly with a changed attitude that seemed to allow her to stay, and Sarah's tough attitude was softened, his lost joy returned. He thanked God for it, his world had brighter colors again, hope returned, the expectation of good things, and the future was given a bright name: ISMAEL.

Abram felt that he now needed some time to rest, to calm his turbulent emotions, to get his life back to normal. He had been through one of the most difficult periods of his life and he felt that the worst was finally behind him. In the end, the solution that came about due to Hagar's inner change was actually the best possible. Hagar can stay and Sarah will then accept her and Abram's child as her own.

Clearly, Abram still did not fully know God's ways. Had he known the fruit that would come from his act, he probably would never have done it. It is as if the conflict, that accompanied his expectation, was permanently imprinted on Ishmael's character, "he shall be an untamable man... his hand shall be against all, and the hand of all against him." Where Abram and Sarah had been looking forward to a lovely time with the nice boy, a rough man of rugged manners, of a wild, unbridled nature, began to emerge. The child brought joy briefly, but as he grew, coexistence with him became increasingly difficult and conflict was an everyday occurence. He was not yet twelve years old, and Abram again began to bow under the weight of gloomy thoughts: how only will things go on if Ishmael does not change? He could feel his strength ebbing away as the years went by, he would have liked to be sure that he had secured the future of his family and farm, but the question kept creeping into his mind: how will everything turns out when Ishmael becomes the head of the house?

Then Sarai said to Abram, “My wrong be upon you! I gave my maid into your embrace; and when she saw that she had conceived, I became despised in her eyes. The Lord judge between you and me.” So Abram said to Sarai, “Indeed your maid is in your hand; do to her as you please.” And when Sarai dealt harshly with her, she fled from her presence.(Gen 16,5-6)

It was nothing new under the sun that women would occasionally had a brush with one another and the high-pitched notes of their shrieking voices would echo into the surrounding tents. But the next day they were able to stand on the doorstep and gossip about news, relatives or children. But there was now an implacability between Sarah and Hagar that seemed to sink deeply under the skin of both. Sarah was like changed. She, who had devised the whole plan, was suddenly beginning to feel bitterness not only towards Hagar - but also towards the unborn child she had been looking forward to so much!

Abram had hitherto believed that the situation would be settled, but now he was walking around more and more gloomy. When, after a few weeks, Sarah finally asked him to banish the pregnant Hagar, he of course refused - what the hell was Sarah thinking, was he about to give up his own child?

He was faced with a stark choice: Sarah or Hagar; Sarah or... his child. At that moment he fell into a heavy despondency. He could see no reasonable path, no solution. It occurred to him that, after all, it was all her fault, so wasn't it right that she should be the one to pay? He had never told her about the hardest choice he was making at that moment, how much he was ashamed of it, but he couldn't help himself: wouldn't it only be right that the one who should leave was... Sarah? Abram could start a new family, with a woman who would give him not one, but a dozen more children, and their laughter would echo in his tent, the laughter of new hope instead of this drudgery that was completely consuming him.

"May the Lord judge between you and me." So that is how the relationship of two once beloved people can escalate. How she can be blinded, he thought - Sarah is crying out to my God to help her... against me! Abram felt so pressured that he found himself feeling disgust for her at times. The thought of the rejection of his child crushed him. Who was more important to him now: her or it? He had to decide, and it was the hardest decision of his life.

For the second time he buried the hope of his own child, and it was clear to him that now it was definite. The first time it happened when he lost faith that his God would give it to him. The second time, when he banished the woman who was pregnant with his child to save his marriage. A marriage he no longer felt comfortable in.

Abram was devastated. There was alienation in his tent, he felt guilty for the way he had treated Hagar, he felt that he could find no understanding on either side, and most importantly, he had written off all the good that the future could still bring him and to which he had clung so tightly. For he knew at that moment that futher hope is nowhere to be found.

So he went in to Hagar, and she conceived. And when she saw that she had conceived, her mistress became despised in her eyes. (Gen 16,4)

And so the Abrams celebrated again... This time not like after the covenant, when Abram firmly believed that the dream child would come, surely soon. But then that was really just an idea, they had nothing solid in their hands and after a few months their elation began to turn to gloom as the fleeting cloud of hope gradually dissipated. But now it was something tangible, visible - the baby was finally on the way! For both Abram and Sarah, there was a feeling of immense satisfaction, even relief. They would no longer lose the most important thing for which they had waited for so many years.

But alas! Very quickly after the first waves of satisfaction, the cracks of their joy appeared again. Hagar, who had only ever been in the position of a slave in the whole house of Abram, realized how her value had risen and began to behave differently. Her self-confidence grew, as if she were almost mistress of the house; for it was she who would give her master the most important thing that "his one" had never given him. Hagar knew her husband and he now treats her differently than before. She can be fully aware of her worth to him; she is duly privileged among the slaves and servants in the house. And Sarah? Who would need her for anything at all?

Abram found himself in sort of a trap. He longed for the time when Hagar would bear him a child, hoping it would be a son. At the same time, he noticed the tension between Sarah and Hagar and how their conflicts were escalating. He would have taken immediate action against anyone else - no one would have dared to behave towards their mistress in the same way as Hagar, it was unprecedented. But he was only feeling his weakness - how could he deal harshly a woman from whom he was expecting the most precious thing?

In the midst of the daily conflicts, the joy they had briefly felt was beginning to fade from Abram's home. Abram often sighed, and in fleeting moments he began to realize the truth of the saying "stolen water is sweet..." (Prov. 9:17). Still, he hoped that, despite its present bitterness, it would eventually be able to satisfy his thirst.

And Abram heeded the voice of Sarai. (Gen 16,2)

Abram had already had the experience that it was blessed to obey God and to be in the place to which He had called him. He realized this strongly through his experience of going to Egypt. In doing so, he dealt with the problem of famine that had struck his country, but he recognized that it was wrong for him to act on his own and go where God had never sent him. He understood this only by the fruit that the trip brought - nothing positive except money. Its outcome, the shame he had to eat, the shock to his soul and his marriage, all of which he did not want to repeat. But it was also the first time he became aware of the strange silence that had fallen between him and God. In Egypt, the gradual revelation of God that had been growing in his life until then, stopped.

He acted simply under the pressure of circumstances, and so will many of us. But it is precious when we can then draw the right conclusion and, like Abram, no longer enter (our) Egypt.

I have stated before that faith is a struggle for the image of God in the heart of man. This image was broken by the fall and no man sees God correctly until he has gone through this struggle. Until then, he drowns in conscious and subconscious imaginations. But the true image of God is to be restored on earth, and that in the heart of His people. (It is also the only place where we can find it here!). This, however, is not automatic. Faith is accompanied by the trials of refining, for though it is victorious in nature (1J 5:4), there is no victory without struggle.

The descent into Egypt was foolishness on Abram's part, but now that he had begotten Ishmael with a slave woman, it was something far more serious - a real fall into the depths of unbelief. It was a very conscious and deliberate denial of what God had told him, and not long before confirmed by the blood shedding covenant. Did Abram believe that God could deceive him in this? Then he could deceive him any time. Then he certainly is not who he presents himself to be.

When the longed-for child did not come, God's image in Abram's heart received a serious crack. By his action, Abram judged God for not fulfilling his word, telling him that it was actually not the best thing that he had trusted Him and obeyed Him so far. His God, though real, is not entirely trustworthy, and so it is probably better for Abram to make his own arrangements in the most important matters.

And Abram heeded the voice of Sarai. Then Sarai, Abram’s wife, took Hagar her maid, the Egyptian, and gave her to her husband Abram to be his wife, after Abram had dwelt ten years in the land of Canaan. (Gen 16,2-3)

Ten years of following God, ten years of waiting had already passed without Abram and Sarah seeing the fulfillment of what God had promised! How would they have reacted had they known (what they didn't know at the time), that in any case they would be waiting another 15 years for the birth of Isaac? Would they have acted the same way, or would they have been able to wait having that certainty? We don't know. God did not tell them when the son would be born. He only said that he certainly would, despite the many impossibilities their situation hid, despite the "biological clock" that ticked so strongly in Sarah's mind.

So she began to look for another way and chose the most accessible one that was offered. To leave offspring was felt as a necessity of life not only in antiquity. In the tribal coexistence of the time, it was not uncommon to produce offspring with one's own slave. But it is remarkable that Abram did not even come to this point in his long life before he started to follow God! Their marriage had not yet been tainted by it.

It was clearly not Abram's idea, but when Sarah brought it up, he didn't reject it. This is characteristic of many temptations that a man experiences. At first he resists, and does not want to admit that he would do it. But then he begins to listen to the idea. (It is often easier when it comes from someone else; for one feels as an excuse that it was not his own, it diminishes his responsibility.) In the same way, Abram at first didn't even want to hear what Sarah was suggesting. But then he figured it was useless to be so "narrow-minded." And as he was thinking about it more and more, it began to appear less and less evil, until he realized that it wasn't actually a bad solution at all. In the end, he saw it as the only possible way.

It is important to realize that Abram and Sarah did not mean to forsake God. They did not reject Him and chose another idol! They just wanted to have both: to honor the Lord and have a descendant. It appeared that they could not achieve this on the path that God was leading them. Abram remembered well the black silhouettes of the birds he had to shoo away at the conclusion of the covenant, which seemed to symbolize the dark thoughts that now settled in their minds. He fought them then, but after another long wait his faith waned and his mind was filled with doubts: what can we do, what else is there left for us to do, since what God has said does not come?

Now Sarai, Abram’s wife, had borne him no children. And she had an Egyptian maidservant whose name was Hagar. So Sarai said to Abram, “See now, the Lord has restrained me from bearing children. Please, go in to my maid; perhaps I shall obtain children by her.” (Gen 16,1-2)

Abram's fall into the depths of unbelief did not come all of a sudden. We can assume that the expectation and effort to stay on what he believed lasted for at least months after the first covenant was made. But then the seed of doubt took root and bore its fruit, first with Sarah, who was not directly involved in Abram's encounters with God. Her reasoning, therefore, did not spring from a transformed mind; she did not experience the same heights with him. She looks at the problem quite pragmatically and is the first to make her point clear: this way with God does not lead to the goal. Let us then make other arrangements.

The problem with believers is that they are often idealistic where they should be pragmatic, and pragmatic where they should be idealistic. They try to hold on by faith to things that God has not promised (or maybe not in that particular way) at all, and which therefore cannot work, whereas they neglect things where they would honor God by their faith. Faith is always a struggle between the real and the expected, a struggle in which God will stand by us if we seek Him. It's a tension between promise and reality that is refined not only through the reality, but (as in this case) often through the matter of time.

We need to be vigilant in the moments when unbelief begins to echo in the form of feelings of disappointment, as with Sarah ("the Lord has not granted me..."). Instead of faith, one activates logic and finds many reasonable-looking solutions, none of which will lead to the true goal in the end. On the contrary, as with Abram, it makes his path considerably more complicated.

Now Sarai, Abram’s wife, had borne him no children. (Gen 16:1)

The joyful mood in Abram's tents lasted for several weeks. As much as they struggled with the weather that year, the flocks were affected by the death of lambs, Abram had to find a replacement for his foreman, who died suddenly, all these and other problems were completely overshadowed by the joy of expecting a descendant. All the workers and shepherds on the farm felt the fresh new atmosphere and came alive with it. Their work went much better now.

But gradually the mood began to change, first with Sarah. When, after a few weeks, she had not told Abram the good news, she began to draw back, speaking less and less, and a resigned look appeared on her face. Sometimes she muttered something to herself. Abram didn't understand at first, but then he thought he cought strange expressions in the old Chaldean dialect, something like "biological clock." He had no idea what it was.

Abram managed to stay with his mind in the heavenly realm for some time after the conclusion of the treaty. But then he gradually left it as the world around him provided more and more evidence that his expectations were unrealistic. Without any theological definition (he was not a theologian before or after), he was experiencing a fundamental crisis of faith. First, he encountered God and gloriously believed. But then he had to internally hold on to what he believed in spite of the pressure of his surroundings - events and people. Time passed and he no longer felt God as he did when he first encountered Him. The situation began to overwhelm him, he felt emptiness and disappointment. He was feeling as if he lost his inward strength.

There are two paths out of the crisis of faith - one leading upward, arduous but victorious, the other (self-directed) into the mire of the lowlands. Abram found himself on the latter now.

So He said to him, “Bring Me a three-year-old heifer, a three-year-old female goat, a three-year-old ram, a turtledove, and a young pigeon.” (Gen 15,9)

God made the first covenant with Abram as a proof that He would give him the land. When Abram wavered in his faith (Gen. 15:8), God saw no stronger evidence than the covenant commitment. Similar covenants were made between neighboring tribes to demarcate territories, pledge war aid, and generally avoid disputes, so it was a well-known issue. Of course, it assumed that the parties would be trustworthy to each other. Therefore, and brought as an oath to the deities (which was to ensure the fatal seriousness of the promises), blood was shed at the conclusion. By making the covenant in a similar way, God meant to say to Abraham: believe, this is how things will happen, for if anyone is trustworthy, it is Me. Do not be afraid, Abram, and do not doubt.

So the first covenant was a covenant for Israel's dwelling on the earth, made through the shedding of animal blood. It corresponds to the period of the Old Covenant, in which it came to fulfillment: it concerns the fate of the Jews on this earth, and involves animal sacrifices.

After God had departed, Abram ran to Sarah in the tent, embraced her, and cried out joyfully: Sarah, imagine what I have just experienced! It is certain! God has confirmed His covenant promises to me! Sarah, traditionally a bit skeptical of Abram's euphoria, could not resist this time and was infected by his enthusiasm. That evening, Abram's tents were lit late into the night - Abram and Sarah, in their eighties, danced, celebrated the feast, and rejoiced... Soon, very soon, their waiting will be over!