The word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision, “Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.” But Abram said, “O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?” And Abram said, “You have given me no offspring, and so a slave born in my house is to be my heir.” But the word of the Lord came to him, “This man shall not be your heir; no one but your very own issue shall be your heir.” He brought him outside and said, “Look toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your descendants be.” And he believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness.
Then he said to him, “I am the Lord who brought you from Ur of the Chaldeans, to give you this land to possess.” But he said, “O Lord God, how am I to know that I shall possess it?” He said to him, “Bring me a heifer three years old, a female goat three years old, a ram three years old, a turtledove, and a young pigeon.” He brought him all these and cut them in two, laying each half over against the other; but he did not cut the birds in two. And when birds of prey came down on the carcasses, Abram drove them away.
As the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon Abram, and a deep and terrifying darkness descended upon him.
When the sun had gone down and it was dark, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces. On that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, “To your descendants I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates.”
In Old Testament narrative, the first words of major characters are significant. Their utterances can offer insight to their function in the story - character, motives, emotions. Abram’s response to God in this week’s reading is not his first words, but it is his first words directed at God. They are skeptical, and this is understandable. Twice already God has promised Abram that his descendants would become a great nation and that Abram would possess fertile land. The first promise required Abram to listen and obey a God he did not know and move his family to an unspecified land. Abram obeyed, silently, yet no heir appeared. Abram eventually settles a land, giving the best to his nephew, Lot. God appears and offers his second promise: land to settle and descendents that number the dust of the earth. But Abram did not wait for God to tell him to settle a land; Abram simply stopped moving. God retroactively confirmed Abram’s choice of land as the land of promise. Now with the land settled, Abram goes to war to rescue his nephew Lot and saves the king of Sodom and the king of Salem in the process. For this fight, Abram never consults God, nor does Abram seek God’s blessing, or even ask for strength. Abram fights and saves his nephew and his land through his own volition.
This context is necessary in understanding this week’s reading. The word of the Lord claims to be a shield to Abram, but from what enemy? Abram has shown himself perfectly capable in defending himself, his family and his land. Abram calls out the vacancy of God’s bombast; what, indeed, can God give to Abram that Abram does not already have? Abram does not need protection, or land. One thing he lacks, a promised child. Abram is accusatory - the reason a slave is to be Abram’s heir is because of the inaction of God. God’s response is similar to a promise already given, “Now lift up your eyes…I will make your descendants as the dust of the earth, so that if anyone can number the dust of the earth, then your descendents can also be numbered” (Gen. 13:14-16). I don’t know why this new assurance is more convincing than the first one, but Abram finds it convincing and so believes God, offering God another chance to make good on his promises.
God’s second assurance, “I am the Lord who brought you out of Ur of the Chaldees to possess this land,” is as dubious as the first. First, Abram was not brought out, as if he needed rescue - he was told to move. Second, the land Abram possessed, he possessed without counsel from God. Further, Abram is solely responsible for the maintenance of this land as shown in his ability to protect it, without the intervention of the Almighty. The scene that unfolds - the splitting of the animals - is known to be a ritual representation of what would happen should one break a covenant. God clearly wants to be responsible for Abram’s success and progeny. Perhaps he is annoyed that a man can so easily accomplish for himself what has been promised through divine intervention. There is ironic humor that in trying to prove a point, Abram must be the one to split the carcasses and he is the one who fights off the carion to protect their orientation. Is this theater so feeble, that it is threatened by birds of the heavens and requires the constant vigilance of the human to engage the magic? Perhaps Abram simply humors this God of promises. Three times he has been promised children yet none have been given him. No amount of theater will satisfy a promise left unfulfilled. There is a further irony that comes later in Abram’s story - though God is the only one to walk among the carcasses, implying that God solely bears responsibility for a promise broken, Abram and all the men associated with him bear the mutilations of the blade. Circumcision is another requirement of God, though he consistently refuses to fulfill his promises. Beware the promises of God, they will require everything.
Exodus 3:1-15
Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian; he led his flock beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.” When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then he said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” He said further, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.
Then the Lord said, “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey, to the country of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites. The cry of the Israelites has now come to me; I have also seen how the Egyptians oppress them. So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” He said, “I will be with you; and this shall be the sign for you that it is I who sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall worship God on this mountain.”
But Moses said to God, “If I come to the Israelites and say to them, 'The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,' and they ask me, 'What is his name?' what shall I say to them?” God said to Moses, “I am who I am.” He said further, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, 'I am has sent me to you.'” God also said to Moses, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, 'The Lord, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you':
This is my name forever,
and this my title for all generations.”
The sight of a burning bush not being consumed would indeed be a curious sight, enough to turn aside and investigate. Even more strange would be a voice emanating from it, and stranger still would be the voice declaring itself to be the God of my ancestors. I don’t know how familiar Moses is with his family’s religious history, but this is a new mode of appearance by God. Historically, God has had no problem appearing in a man-like form - like with Abraham before the destruction of Sodom, or Jacob who wrestled God in the night - or as a disembodied voice that compels people to action. Here, God appears in a new way, elemental, the complement of Moses. His name, Moses, means drawn from the water and water follows him everywhere. Here he meets God as his opposite, the fire and he is terrified.
I wonder if Moses remembers the stories told about his ancestors, especially that first man, Adam, as he approaches this eerie tree. That first Garden was a holy place, inhabited by both God and man. There too a tree played a significant role in man’s fate; there too a presence within its branches lured them to partake. In the first case, man was invited to taste the forbidden and in so doing, they were turned out into the wilderness, a flame guarding another tree that promised life. Does Moses realize that perhaps he has stumbled upon that ancient tree and flame, that now, after millenia of wandering in the wilderness, he has found the source of life; that now man is being invited again into relationship with God? As with Adam, so with Moses: a test. Moses must go and bring the people, the exiled, back to the center of the garden. As the story unfolds, the people show themselves skeptical of the tree and the presence that inhabits it and are unwilling to re-enter the garden. Perhaps after so much time exiled, they no longer recognize this place of communion and so are unwilling to fully commit to residing there.
The vegetation is not the only significant part of the garden. It is there that the first man received his name and also gave names to all living things. Knowing the name of a thing implies that the thing is known wholly, completely. To know a thing intimately, to understand and see its soul is to know its name. This is why God let Adam name the animals, to see if they would respond to his utterances and prove to be like souls. But only Eve, made from Adam, could prove to be a good partner. Adam called her name and she responded. When man is exiled from the Garden, Adam and Eve leave together, a testament to the intimacy that characterizes man’s relationship with man; this intimacy, not even God can fully understand. In this second garden communion, God offers what has been so far refused: his own name. The significance of this vulnerability cannot be diminished. By giving his name, God is allowing people direct access to his soul. But this is required if God wants a relationship with man as man has with man. Forever, now, God’s fate is linked with Israel. Their success will be his success, their failures, his failures, their life, his life, their death, his death. I wonder if God realized that this first step of self-giving, this desire for intimacy, will not be the last required of him. When man desired knowledge, God told him it would require death. I wonder if God realized that the desire for a relationship with man is its own kind of forbidden fruit? Man is a selfish partner and will accept nothing short of God’s life. Does God realize that when he gives Moses his name that he would be willing to die for the love of man?