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Context No. 1877 of 4322 · Genesis

Context · Reflection

Genesis 20:1-5: in context

1Abraham traveled from there toward the land of the South, and lived between Kadesh and Shur. He lived as a foreigner in Gerar. 2Abraham said about Sarah his wife, “She is my sister.” Abimelech king of Gerar sent, and took Sarah. 3But God came to Abimelech in a dream of the night, and said to him, “Behold, you are a dead man, because of the woman whom you have taken; for she is a man’s wife.” 4Now Abimelech had not come near her. He said, “Lord, will you kill even a righteous nation? 5Didn’t he tell me, ‘She is my sister’? She, even she herself, said, ‘He is my brother.’ I have done this in the integrity of my heart and the innocence of my hands.”

Living as a foreigner in Gerar, Abraham does something we have seen him do before: he passes off his wife Sarah as his sister, out of fear, and Abimelech the king takes her. But God comes to Abimelech in a dream: you are a dead man, for the woman you have taken is another man's wife. Abimelech, who had not touched her, protests his innocence: did Abraham not tell me she was his sister? I did this in the integrity of my heart. It is the same fearful deception Abraham had committed once already, years before.

The discouraging thing about this episode is that we have seen it before. Years earlier, in Egypt, Abraham had told the same lie, passing Sarah off as his sister out of fear; it had endangered his wife and the promise, and God had rescued the situation. And now, older, further along in his walk with God, having seen God's faithfulness, Abraham does the very same thing again, falls into the identical fear-driven deception he should long since have left behind. Even Abraham, the great man of faith, relapsed into his old, familiar sin. There is something both sobering and strangely comforting in this. Sobering, because it shows how deep and persistent our characteristic sins can be, how we can fall again into the very failure we thought we had left behind, how even growth in faith does not automatically free us from our old patterns. If Abraham, the father of the faithful, could repeat his old deception, we should not be naive about our own besetting sins, imagining ourselves beyond them; the old failures lie in wait, and we can relapse into them when fear or weakness returns. It is a warning against complacency: let him who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall. And yet there is comfort in it too. Abraham's relapse did not end his story or cancel God's promise; God remained faithful, protected Sarah again, and continued his purposes through this flawed man. Our relapses into old sins are real and serious, and we should fight them; but they do not put us beyond God's grace or defeat his purposes. If even Abraham repeated his failure and God held him still, then our own relapses, grievous as they are, are not the end; the God who was faithful to Abraham through his repeated sin is faithful to us through ours. The passage warns us to watch our old patterns, and assures us that God's faithfulness is greater than our relapses.

Am I naive about my old, familiar sins, imagining I am beyond the failures I thought I had left behind, when even Abraham relapsed into his fearful deception a second time, and can I both watch soberly against relapsing into my besetting patterns and take comfort that God's faithfulness, which held Abraham through his repeated sin, is greater than my relapses?

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