NOTES for Gen 15:1-15

How little is required of Abraham under the covenant God makes with him. So little that he has already done it! "Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness." But he had to believe in precisely THAT way. From this seed of true faith grows the whole tree of sacred history recounted in the Psalm; from it grows the people of God. Here lies the foundation of the Church's faith. Yet each of us can also compare ourselves to a tree grown from Abraham's seed.

And yet: what is righteousness? The observance of the Torah, the commandments given by God? Yes, of course. It is in particular like this that would have answered any Jewish believer; any descendant of Abraham to the question asked by us. But how then Abraham himself?

What does his righteousness consist of, the righteousness of a man who lived before the Torah and the commandments were revealed by God to His people? The author of the Pentateuch answers us: his righteousness consisted of the fact that he believed in God, trusted Him and followed Him. It is here, as seen, the base of any righteousness.

The observance of Torah, the fulfillment of commandments is only consequence; on the base of righteousness, as seen, are faithfulness and trust in God. And it is probably no coincidence. In fact, even the righteous men of the Old Testament, having lived long time before Paul, understood that the fallen man has no strength to go through the way of righteousness.

Only God Himself can lead the righteous on this way, and lead exactly by taking him by the hand, lead in spite of all failures and falls. And in order to go like that, trust is particularly very necessary, an absolute and unconditional trust. Otherwise, man will never have with God those relationships, which will make possible for him the way of righteousness.

The Bible mentions several meetings between Abraham and God, but only two of them are described in detail. During the first, God makes an alliance-covenant with Abraham, promising to give his descendants the land where he is now wandering. His descendants will be settled inhabitants on this land, no longer nomads, and they will possess the land on which Abraham is only a sojourner. These are serious promises, and Abraham quite naturally wants proof.

Words alone are not enough here. "How am I to know that everything will be as You say?" he asks God. The answer comes without delay: God tells Abraham to prepare for the making and consecration of an alliance, a covenant that will bind him to God in obligatory relations. God does not need obligations; Abraham needs them, because he wants the reliability of a real alliance-covenant, the kind that is made for years or even for centuries.

Then God tells Abraham to cut open the carcasses of sacrificial animals and lay these split carcasses on the ground. In those days, alliances were consecrated by passing between the two halves of the split carcasses of sacrificial animals. Abraham waits, and God does not delay: at sunset lightning struck the wood prepared for the sacrificial fire; it is described as a fiery tongue that fell from heaven. Lightning was a manifestation of power; it marked the place of a deity's presence, and Abraham, like any person of that time, knew this perfectly well. He understood that his God had come to make an alliance with him. Yet lightning was not the only sign of God's presence.

Another such sign was the spiritual experience Abraham lived through in His presence. Abraham experiences it in a state that in Russian is usually called deep sleep, although the corresponding Hebrew word denotes something between sleep and wakefulness, when a person can hear God's voice or see a vision.

At first glance Abraham's vision may appear strange: the Hebrew text speaks of a great and terrible darkness, or, in another reading, of the terror that seized Abraham as the descending darkness approached him. In substance the difference is small, but such a theophany can indeed seem strange: a dark God from whom terror breathes - how is this to be understood? The answer, meanwhile, is not so complicated.

A person cannot see God as He is, and everything invisible, when a person looks at it, appears impenetrably black, dark, like precisely that fathomless darkness before which Abraham found himself. That terror breathes from this darkness is understandable: here there is not simply sacred awe, but an awareness of one's own nothingness, one's own nonexistence before the One Who Is. God would have remained forever like this for man if He Himself had not chosen to fill the abyss that separates man from Him. But to fill it, time is needed; here there is only the beginning of the path, God's first step toward man. The first, but not the last; others will follow it.

When reading today's passage, the reader's attention is usually drawn to the rather strange and, for us, exotic form of concluding and consecrating the union-covenant between God and Abraham (vv. 9-11, 17). Meanwhile, for Abraham's era there is nothing unusual here. In those times all alliances were consecrated in this way: sacrificial animals were cut in two, and those making the alliance passed between the two severed halves. From that moment the alliance was considered not only concluded but also consecrated. It remains only to add that among the ancients a lightning strike was considered a manifestation of a higher power and a sign of a deity's presence. There is nothing surprising, then, in Abraham's having no doubt after the lightning strike about the reality of his God's presence at the place of the event, just as he has no doubt about the reality of the covenant that has been concluded. The "fiery tongue" mentioned in v. 17, called a "flaming torch" in the Russian translation, was undoubtedly lightning, which in antiquity was often called "heavenly fire." What is truly interesting is something else: how Abraham experiences the encounter with his God. At the moment of encounter, a "deep sleep" fell upon Abraham (v. 12). The corresponding Hebrew word, however, denotes not so much "sleep" as a kind of heavy half-drowsiness from which it is almost impossible to free oneself until it passes on its own. In such a state a person often hears God's voice and sees visions sent by God. Abraham experiences the presence of God itself as a "great darkness" descending upon him, from which holy terror breathes. In v. 12 "terror and great darkness" are mentioned; literally the Hebrew text says, "and behold: a great terrifying darkness fell upon him." At first glance, such an experience of God's nearness seems somewhat strange. But if one thinks about it, it becomes, on the contrary, quite natural and understandable. A human being cannot see God by standing face to face with Him. A human being cannot see God at all, anywhere, ever, or under any conditions, unless God Himself wills it and gives the person the ability to see Him. And if He does not do this, then before the eyes of a person standing face to face with Him there will be precisely impenetrable darkness, for what a person cannot in any way see, hear, or feel always seems to him impenetrably dark. It is no wonder that this darkness breathes holy terror: a finite human being before the infinite God can experience no other feeling. Only the voice coming from the impenetrable darkness testifies that God is here and is speaking with His chosen one (vv. 13-16). Such was the beginning of the path, and the path ahead was to be long. This path would have been impossible if God had not gone out to meet the human person, for only He can fill the abyss that separates Him from any of us. And He will fill this abyss, limiting Himself for our sake so that we may hear His voice, see His presence, and feel His love. And finally the day will come when He will do the impossible: He will fit His whole self into the limited and narrow frame of human nature in order to give us the Kingdom.

For the land promised by God to belong to Abram and his descendants, Abram must have an heir. But this is impossible, since his wife cannot have children, and both of them are no longer of childbearing age. Therefore, when God gives a new promise that Abram will have a son, he asks for proof: a miracle, a sign, something that would confirm such an extraordinary word. No miracle happens; God tells him to bring Him an offering. This means that He asks Abram to draw nearer to Him, to share a meal with Him, to become His friend. It is no accident that Scripture calls Abram, because of his trust in God, the friend of God (Jas 2:23). And a friend does not need proof; he believes another's word for the sake of friendship. In this way the promise of simple earthly things -- land, descendants, a son -- brings Abram into friendship with the Creator, into a union, a covenant, on which all subsequent history will be built.