Abraham

y name wasn't always Abraham. My birth name was Abram. I picked up the "ha" part later and it cost me my foreskin, which believe me wasn't anything to laugh about. It hurt like hell.

Abraham means Exalted Father. At the time it was bestowed on me, that was a laugh. I was ninety-nine years old, and my wife Sarai, later to be called Sarah, was only ten years younger and barren from birth. At the time, I had fathered only one child, a son, and that was by a slave girl of Sarah's. Some Exalted Father I was!

But I'm getting ahead of myself here.

I was born in the city of Ur, Moon Town , the sailors called it, because of the great Temple of the Moon God there. Ur had long been a thriving seaport on the Persian Gulf where the Euphrates and Tigris rivers met and spilled into the sea. But by the time I come along the delta was silting up faster than it could be cleared, and the sea was withdrawing like somebody had pulled the plug. As time went on, fewer and fewer ships was willing to risk grounding to call at Ur, and the town fell on hard times.

My daddy Terah was in the idol business. Actually, he started out as a potter, but by his own admission he was a mighty poor one. Then he hit on a method of making molds and using a kind of slurry he had concocted to fill them. When he'd mastered the art of mold casting, he bribed a priestess to let him to borrow some idols from the Temple. Well, bribed is the word he used, though he never would say just how it was he bribed her. Daddy was the kind of man women noticed. However it was, he made copies of the idols and got them back before anybody missed them and soon was in business selling replicas of the Temple art.

Things went well while the tourist trade held up. He bought a little land and a few head of cattle and some sheep, which my brother Nahor and me took in hand and built up to the point where the holding was providing the main support for the family. So when the idol business started going to pot we wasn't too concerned. But Daddy was. He fussed and fretted and nearly drove hisself crazy and us, too, carrying on about it. One day he heard a Voice saying, "Go to Haran."

"Mighty convenient," Nahor said.

Haran was a sister city to Ur. Its language and customs was the same, and it had an even bigger Temple of the Moon God. Haran was located at the top of the Fertile Crescent and laid about midway along the trade route that run from Sumeria to the Great Sea so there was a lot of foreign traffic. It would be the ideal spot to carry on the idol business. But it meant giving up our holding in Ur, and for the rest of us, and especially Nahor, who tended to be set in his ways, that was just plain foolishness.

You see, the idol business was Daddy's thing, not ours. Our God, and his, too, forbade idol worship. "I'm not worshipping the damned things," Daddy kept insisting, "I'm just selling them to heathens. There's a difference." Maybe so, but it still didn't seem right.

We suspected that he had dreamed up the Voice to get us to agree to the move. We suspected, I say, but we didn't know . And none of us was ready to defy the Voice if there actually had been one. So we packed up the idol molds, and Daddy and me along with Sarah and my nephew Lot lit out for Haran, five hundred miles to the north. Nahor and the rest of the family stayed behind to wait until we had got ourselves established, then they would dispose of the land and follow with the livestock.

It worked out well for Daddy. Even though, as it turned out, the idols from his molds made in Ur didn't much resemble the Temple idols at Haran, the traders and transients he sold to didn't seemed to mind, probably didn't even notice, since they bought them mostly for resale. It worked out all right for the rest of us, too. We was soon able to buy land and send for Nahor and the others. And then, since we no longer needed Daddy's income, we tried to get him to give up idoling.

"And do what?" he asked. "Set around and scratch my private parts and watch the grass grow? I'm a businessman. I make them, they buy them. I aim to keep it up till I die."

Daddy died at two hundred and five. And when the seven days of mourning was up, I heard the Voice.

I had gone out after supper for a stroll, and as I come to the crest of the hill behind the house, the Voice said, "Go forth to the land I will show you!" Then there was some other stuff about blessings, which I didn't quite catch because to tell you the truth, the Voice had scared the hell out of me. I waited a few minutes to see if it would say anything else, then run back and told Sarah and then called the family together and told them.

"Probably the same one that told Daddy to move here," Nahor said. He had never really believed in Daddy's Voice.

"No, honest, I heard it," I said, and I was ready to believe now that Daddy had heard it, too.

"Well, at least Daddy's voice told him where to go. Yours just said to go forth. Which direction is forth supposed to be?"

Nahor had me there. I had no idea where to start. All I knew was I had to do what the Voice told me, just like I guess Daddy had to come to Haran. It was compelling! It said it. You done it. That's all there was to it. It would have been nice, though, if it had been a little more specific. I thought about running back up the hill and hollering out Nahor's question, but I realized I had let my chance slip by. "It said it would show me," I said.

"Actually," Nahor said, always the stickler for details, "according to you, it said it would show you the land , not the direction, but I don't want to argue about that. I want to know what you mean to do. If you think we're all going to pull up stakes and tag along after you like we done after Daddy, well, you can just think again."

I hadn't thought that far yet. "The Voice spoke only to me, and that, of course, means Sarah, too, and we have to go. I suppose the rest of you can come or stay as you please."

"What about the holding?"

I was still shaken from the Voice. Right now, the holding didn't seem too important. "Whatever you think is fair."

"Three equal shares," Nahor said. "You, me and Haran, his to be divided among Lot and the girls."

Our other brother Haran had died long before we left Ur. Lot was his son and Milcah and Iscah his daughters. Nahor had married Milcah so her portion would be added to his. Iscah's and Lot's part would probably stay, too. Any way you looked at it, Nahor was going to come out ahead. But that was all right. Nahor was not the venturesome type. He needed security and stability. It was his nature, and you've got to respect that. "Sounds fine to me."

"I believe I might just come with you," Lot said, "that is, if it's all right."

"Glad to have you," I said, and I was. Sarah and I was fond of Lot, and the herders liked him, too.

So we made the division, and in a week we was on our way. I expected the Voice to come back and give me specific directions, but when it didn't, I figured things out for myself, as maybe I was meant to do in the first place. There was, after all, only two choices. We could head back down toward Ur, or we could follow the trade route west, which would take us in an sweeping arc through Hittite country and down along eastern edge of the Great Sea through the land of Canaan and all the way to Egypt, if that was where it was we was going. Since it seemed unlikely the Voice would send us back to Ur, we headed west.

We took our time. After all, we had no idea where we was going so what was the hurry to get there? As days and weeks passed the memory of the Voice faded, and I began to ask myself more and more often what the hell I thought I was doing anyway, wagging family and flocks and herders and beasts of burden all over the country, following the vague directions of a disembodied Voice that might never come again, if it wasn't just my imagination to begin with.

Eventually, we entered the land of Canaan, and one day, weary from hours on the road, found ourselves in a narrow sheltered valley between two low mountains, which turned out to be Mount Ebel and Mount Gerizim, although we didn't know that at the time. And the valley was called Shechem we later learned. It was a pleasant place, plenty of water and grass for the stock and trees for shade in the heat of the day. A good place to camp for a few days and rest up, I decided.

I passed on this welcome news to the others, and we pitched camp and unpacked for more than just an overnight stay. After a leisurely supper, I strolled a little way up the slope of Ebel to get a good look at the valley and to watch the night fall. I found a nice level spot with an outcropping of rock for a seat, and set there enjoying the view until the dusk deepened into soft night. "Be nice," I thought, "if this was the place and we could stay."

"Well, it's not," somebody said.

He was standing right beside me, so close I could have reached out and touched him, and I hadn't even heard him come up. A local man, a Canaanite. We had been running into them ever since we reached Canaan, had passed the time of day with them and camped near some of their cities. Unlike the Hittites, they spoke our language, not exactly but close. Seemed a decent enough sort of folk. Maybe he owned this spot and we was trespassing.

"I'm not a Canaanite."

This time I recognized the Voice. And too, it finally dawned on me that he was responding to what I had only thought, and no mere mortal could do that. As quick as I could, I got off that rock and prostrated myself and laid there, struck dumb and trembling.

"Oh, don't be so skittish. I ain't going to hurt you. I just want you to know that I'm going to give this whole land to your seed. Now get up and get on with it."

I didn't move right away because I couldn't.

"You can take a few days to rest up before you go if you like. It's a right pretty place."

When I could finally get up, he was gone. My legs was shaky so I staggered over to the rock and set down. I couldn't believe it. I had seen God! Not just heard him, seen him! I couldn't wait to tell Sarah and Lot. They both had their doubts about the Voice, and why not? I'd had a few of my own. This ought to settle it for them.

"Are you sure it was God?" Sarah asked. "I've always heard if you looked upon God, you died."

"That's what they say, but do I look dead to you?"

"Then maybe it wasn't God, maybe it was just somebody wandering around. What did he look like?"

"He was about seven foot tall," I said, "and his hair was white like wool, as white as snow; and his eyes like a flame of fire; and his feet like fine brass, shining as if they burned in a furnace; and his voice was the sound of many waters."

I was ashamed of myself, but that's what I told them. I was afraid they wouldn't believe me otherwise. I look at things different now, but at the time I blamed God for having to lie. He had no business showing up as just ordinary when everybody expected him to be something spectacular. If he wasn't willing to hold up his end somebody had to do it for him.

"Like many waters?" Lot asked . "You mean he gurgled at you when he spoke?" He was probably thinking about all them small streams we had crossed.

"No, roared, like a big waterfall," I said, forced into another lie.

"If this is the land of the promise, are we going to stay here?" Sarah asked.

"No, he said to go on. And that's all I'm going to say right now. I'm going to bed and meditate on all of this."

I did, and in the process managed to remember the part I had missed when God spoke to me the first time, back in Haran. Now, I may not have this word for word, but what I think he said was he would make me a great nation and he would bless me and make my name great. He would be with them that was with me and against them against me, and through me all the nations of the earth would be blessed. That's close. And if I had been aware of that part of it back in Haran, it would have made the going forth part a little easier to take, give me a reason, don't you see.

The next morning bright and early I went up the slope of Ebel to the place where I had seen God and took some stones laying about and built an altar. When it was finished, I called Sarah and Lot and the herders together, and we made a burnt offering and worshipped there.

In a few days we moved on, working our way in easy stages down to the south. We camped a couple of days between the Canaanite cities of Bethel and Ai at another pleasant spot. Bethel was sacred to the gods of the Canaanites. I thought our God ought to be represented, too, so I built another altar to him there. I thought, hoped, that this might be the end of the line, but got no word to that effect.

As we made our way farther south, we run into famine conditions brought on by a long drought. No food for us to be bought, very little grazing for our beasts, and almost no water. A few days of this and the herders began to grumble. Sarah and Lot kept asking what I proposed to do. I kept putting it to God that he had got me into this mess and he had a responsibility to tell me what to do. And he kept ignoring me. I was just about in the notion of turning around and heading back north, when we come upon the holding of a local family who was in the process of packing up to move.

"We've held on as long as we can, hoping to last it out," the father said.

"Heading north, I suppose," I said.

"No, too dangerous. They don't take kindly to refugees from down here. Claim we eat up their resources. At best, they kill your livestock, at worst they kill you, too. It's happened before. No, we'll be heading for Egypt. They're watered by a great river and they've got plenty of room. They'll take you."

"Then I expect that's what we had better do, too."

"That your wife?' the man said. He hadn't been able to keep his eyes off Sarah the whole time we'd been talking.

I said she was.

"Then I'd think twice. Woman looks like that is bound to catch old Pharaoh's eye. And his harem is only made up of virgins and widow women. "

"You mean ...?" He made a slicing motion across his throat and removed all doubt as to what he meant.

I thanked him and we went on a little way and camped for the night. After supper, I told Sarah what he had said.

"Well, we'll just have to say I'm your sister," she said.

Let me tell you about Sarah. Sarah was the kind of woman that turned men's heads and kept them turned, and had been from the time she was ten years old. A rare beauty, but something more, something that spoke directly to a man's loins. And she knew she had it and knew how to use it, though she seldom did, even on me.

Maybe she got it from Daddy, because he had a similar thing, only masculine, and she was his daughter. That's right. After Mama, Daddy married again and had Sarah and then her mama died. That makes Sarah my half sister.

When she reached child-bearing age, we married, and if that bothers you, just let me say that in them days, marriage that close was not only considered proper but desirable. Yet with all that beauty and all that sexuality, Sarah was barren. It was God having his little joke. It didn't really matter all that much to either of us, because we loved each other.

I might mention also that Sarah was not your typical wife. She had a mind of her own and didn't hesitate to express it. And she had the strength almost of a man, which come from working in the fields. If you got her riled, you had better be prepared to defend yourself. And you better not expect her to fight fair, either.

"If it comes to it," Sarah said, "we'll just say I'm your sister, and you can hold out for a high price for giving me up to the Pharaoh."

"But …"

"Don't be silly. What choice do we have?"

"But …"

"I'll keep out of his way as long as I can, and if worse come to worse …"

"What?"

"I'll just have to try to please him, won't I?"she laughed.

I hoped she was joking, but I was pretty sure she wasn't.

"Oh stop gaping at me like an idiot. I'm not likely to get pregnant. And as soon as we can leave and go back to Canaan, I'll just slip away. He's probably got so many he won't even know I'm gone."

I didn't like it, didn't like it at all, but I was used to not getting what I liked. And if it didn't meet with God's approval he had only hisself to blame since he had chosen not to intervene. So I accepted the plan and we made our way on down to Egypt.

It didn't take long for Sarah to be noticed.

We entered into Goshen in eastern Egypt and camped not too far from the city of Zoan where Pharaoh had his palace. We was almost immediately visited by three men of Pharaoh's court, to "hear the news from the east," as well as to see if we posed any threat. We prepared a meal for them as was the custom and I told them all I knew about Haran, and all I had heard about Ur and Babylon and Akkad, and about the famine in lower Canaan, which they already knew. Sarah made herself scarce as soon as we found out who they was, but, of course, it was too late.

"Who was that beautiful lady we saw as we come up," they asked, "and why are you hiding her?"

"She is my sister," I said, "And I do not hide her. She hides or shows herself as she pleases."

"Perhaps you will be so kind as to persuade her to show herself to us so that we might make an accurate report of her beauty to our master the Pharaoh."

I found Sarah in her tent, decked out in her finest from Haran, looking every inch a princess. "If it must be," she said, "let's make the bastard pay dearly for it."

A few days later they was back to fetch Sarah. "You can pretty well name your price within reason," they told me."

Sarah and me had already worked out what our starting price would be. I demanded that, and they agreed. Sarah drawed herself up and looking her most imperial said, "One more thing. I have no one else but my brother. We are the only ones left in the family, and we are very close. I must be allowed to visit him at least once a week."

They hemmed and hawed and said it couldn't be done, but in the end they consented, and Sarah went with them.

My wealth increased tenfold almost overnight. The sheep and cattle and donkeys and she-asses and camels and male and female slaves arrived in such numbers I didn't know where to put them or what to do with them. I settled half of them on Lot. We moved them farther into Goshen, but I held on to our first encampment for Sarah's visits.

"Nothing yet," Sarah said after the first week. "I've asked around and there are so many only a few get sent for at all. No way of telling if or when he'll want me. In the meantime, I'm treated like a princess. Fine clothes, the best of food, a slave girl to wait on me hand and foot. Living on the fat of the land."

"Don't get too used to it. I don't like this business at all."

"Then why don't you make me regret it," she said and laughed.

And I did.

Months passed and still there was no summons. Word was Pharaoh was ailing. We heard the drought had broke in Canaan. We kept trying to figure out some way to escape. Then Sarah got the call. But when she was ushered into his bedchamber, she found Pharaoh was in no mood for dalliance.

"You!" he said. "You have brought this terrible thing on me!"

"What terrible thing?" Sarah asked coolly.

"This … this impotence! My wise men say it's your doing."

"And why would I do such a thing?"

"Because you are not that man's sister. You are his wife. You have lied and tricked me. My wise men say so."

"Your wise men are halfwits. I have not lied. I am his sister, his half sister."

"You are also his wife!"

"And if I am, no one ever asked us that."

"I demand you remove this plague from me!"

"Demand and be damned. I didn't send it, and I can't remove it. Only the Almighty God who my husband and me serve can do that. And it is his demand that you restore me to my husband."

"Then go to him! Go!"

"And that we be allowed to leave this country."

"Yes, go! And good riddance!"

"With all our that we posses."

"Go! Go! I'll send along an escort to make damn sure you leave. And never set foot on my soil again on pain of death!"

At the border the escort saluted me, bowed low to Sarah and rode away laughing at the plight of old Pharaoh. And I and mine returned to God's country.