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Sarah and Hagar
by
Grace Aguilar
Part Two
The longer paragraphs have been split for ease of reading and some very long sentences broken apart for the same reason. All the headings have been inserted by us, as has all the coloured emphasis. The bold italics are in the original.
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For thirteen years Abram and Sarai must have looked upon Ishmael as the promised seed; for, though not actually so said, there was neither spiritual sign nor human hope of the patriarch having any other child. At the end of that period, however, the Most High again appeared unto Abram, proclaiming himself as the ALMIGHTY – a fit introduction to the event He was about to foretell; and bidding His favoured servant, ‘Walk before Me, and be thou perfect,’ perfect in trust, in faith, without any regard to human probabilities, for, as Almighty God, all things were possible with Him.
The name of the patriarch was then changed, as a sign of the many nations over whom he was appointed father – the land again promised him – and the covenant appointed which was to mark his descendants as the chosen of the Lord, the everlasting inheritors of Canaan; and bear witness, to untold-of ages, of the truth of the Lord's word, and the election of His people.
This proclaimed and commanded, the Eternal commenced His information of the miracle He was about to perform, by desiring Abraham to call his wife no longer Sarai (Hebrew characters) but Sarah (Hebrew characters) – a change which our ancient fathers suppose to mean the same as from Abram to Abraham.
“Sarai, signifying a lady or princess in a restricted sense, imported [meant] that she was a lady, or princess, to Abram only; whereas the latter name signifies princess or lady absolutely, indicating that she would thus be acknowledged by many, even as Abraham was to become the father of many nations.’[1] A meaning perfectly reconcilable with the verse which follows: “And I will bless her, and give thee a son also of her: yea, I will bless her, so that she shall be a mother of nations; kings of people shall be of her.’
She was, therefore, no longer a princess over Abraham’s household, but a princess in royal rank, from whom kings should descend. Joy must have been the first emotion of Abraham’s heart at this miraculous announcement, mingled with a feeling of wonder and astonishment how such a thing could be. But then, in his peculiarly affectionate heart, came the thought of his first-born Ishmael, and with earnestness he prayed, ‘O that Ishmael might live before Thee!’
And though the Eternal could not grant this prayer, for the seed of Abraham, from whom His chosen people would spring, must be of pure and unmixed birth, He yet, with compassionating tenderness, soothed the father’s anxious love, by the gracious promise that, though Sarah’s child must be the seed with whom His covenant should be established yet Ishmael also should be blessed and multiplied exceedingly and become, even as Isaac, the father of a great nation.
‘And for Ishmael I have also heard thee;’ How blessed an encouragement for us to pour forth our prayers unto the Lord, proving, how consolingly, that no prayer is offered in vain; for if He cannot grant as our finite wishes would dictate, He will yet hear us – yet fulfil our prayer far better for our welfare, and the welfare of our beloved ones, than our own wishes could have accomplished, had they been granted to the full.
The acceptance of the covenant throughout Abraham’s household, and the change in her own name, must, of course, have been imparted by Abraham to his wife, with the addition of the startling promise, that she too, even at her advanced age, should bear a son.
Yet, by her behaviour, when the promise was repeated in the following chapter, it would appear that, though informed of it, she had dismissed it from her mind as a thing impossible. Accustomed to regard Ishmael as the only seed of Abraham – to suppose her scheme had been blessed, more particularly as she had never been named before as the mother of the chosen seed – the hope of being so had long since entirely faded; and, not having attained the simple questionless faith of her husband, she, in all probability, dismissed the thought, as recalling too painfully those ardent hopes and wishes, which she had with such difficulty previously subdued.
Engaged, as was her wont, in her domestic duties, she was one day interrupted by the hasty entrance of her husband, requiring her ‘quickly to prepare three measures of fine meal, knead it, and make it into cakes.' Patriarchal hospitality was never satisfied by committing to hirelings only the fit preparations for a hearty welcome. We see either Sarah herself making the desired cakes, or closely superintending her domestics in doing so; and the patriarch hastening, in the warmth of his hospitality, himself to fetch a calf from the herd, to give it to a young man to dress it, though he had abundance of servants around him to save him the exertion.
Yet both Abraham and Sarah were of the nobility of the Eternal’s creating. He had raised them above their fellows, and bestowed on them the patent of an aristocracy, with which not one of the nations could vie, for it came from God Himself. He had changed their names to signify their royal claims – to make them regarded, in future ages, as noble ancestors of a long line of prophets, kings, princes and nobles: and there was a refinement, a nobleness, a magnanimity of character in both the patriarch and his wife, which, breathing through their very simplicity, betrayed their native aristocracy, and marked them of that princely race which has its origin in the favour and election of the King of kings.
The primitive simplicity of our first fathers generally impresses the mind with the mistaken idea of their being simply fathers or agriculturists, both of which they certainly were, but not these alone, as supposed in the present acceptation of the term. They were princes and nobles, not only in their mental superiority, but in their immense possessions – in their large and well-ordered households, in the power they possessed both in their own establishments and in the adjoining lands, and in the respect and submission ever paid them by the nations with whom they might have held intercourse.
Abraham was never addressed save as ‘My Lord,’ either by his own domestics or other nations; thus acknowledged as superior, and of noble if not royal rank, by those who could scarcely be supposed to understand why he was so, save by the outward signs of landed possessions and large establishment. Those who think so much of noble descent and princely connection, would do well to remember this – that impoverished, scattered, chastised, for a ‘little moment,’ as we are – yet, that if we are children and descendants of Abraham – ISRAELITES not only in seeming but in heart – we are descended from the aristocracy of the Lord – from a higher and nobler race that even Gentile Kings may boast.
A privilege and glory of which no circumstance, no affliction, no persecution can deprive us – ours, through all and every event of life, unless we cast it from us by the dark deed of forsaking, for ambition, or gold, or power, the banner of our blessed faith – the religion of our God.
Yet noble, even princely, as were Abraham and Sarah, it was no sign of rank with them to be cold and restrained by false artificial laws. In the Bible, nobility was nature and heart; simplicity and benevolence, cordiality and warmth; no coldness, no indifference, no folding up the affections and the impulses of feeling in the icy garment of pride and fashion, which so often turns to selfishness, and so utterly prevents all of benevolence and social good.
Abraham knew not, at his first invitation, the rank or mission of his visitors. His address was one of the heart’s respect, not the mere politeness of the lip; and the warmth of his welcome would not permit his sitting idly down while hirelings prepared their meal. Nay, we find that, even while they sat down to partake of it, their host stood, - a mark of profound respect, which a further consideration of their majestic aspect prompted, by the supposition that they were more than ordinary mortals.
Sarah joined not her husband or his guests. The modest and dignified customs of the East prevented all intrusion, or even the wish to intrude. Unless particularly asked for, the place of the Eastern and Jewish wife was in the retirement of home; not from any inferiority of rank or servitude of station, but simply because their inclination so prompted.
The strangers might have business with Abraham, which, if needed, he would impart to her; there was no occasion for her to come forward. But while seated in the inner tent engaged in her usual avocations [regular jobs], she heard her own name, ‘Where is Sarah, thy wife?’ and her husband’s reply, ‘She is in the tent,’ followed by words that must indeed have sounded strange and improbable, ‘Sarah, thy wife, shall bear a son.’ Yet, improbable as they might have seemed, there is no excuse for the laugh of incredulity with which they were received. Already prepared by the previous promise of the Lord, the words should at once have revealed the heavenly nature of those who spake, and been heard with faith and thankfulness; but Sarah thought only of the human impossibility.
Strange as it is, that such unbelief should be found in the beloved partner of Abraham, yet her laugh proves that even she was not exempt from the natural feelings of mortality – the looking to human means and human possibilities alone; forgetting that with God all things are possible.
Yet, to us, the whole of this incident is consoling. It proves that even Sarah was not utterly free from human infirmities; and yet that the Eternal, through His angel, deigned graciously to reprove, not to chastise. It proves that God has compassion on the nature of His erring children; for He knows their weakness. Man would have been wroth with the laugh of scorn, and withdrawn his intended favour; but ‘the Lord said unto Abraham, Wherefore did Sarah laugh, saying, Shall I, who am old indeed bear a child? Is anything too mighty for the Lord? At the time appointed I will return unto thee, and Sarah shall indeed have a son.’
The gracious mildness of the rebuke – the blessed repetition of the promise – must, to one so affectionate as Sarah, have caused the bitterest reproach. But, weakly listening to fear instead of repentance, she denied her fault, seeking thus mistakenly to extenuate it. But He said, ‘Nay, but thou didst laugh,’ proving that her innermost thoughts were known. And, silenced at once, left to the solitude of her own tent, for Abraham accompanied his guests on the road to Sodom, we know quite enough of Sarah’s character to rest satisfied that repentance and self-abasement for unbelief, mingled with and hallowed the burst of rejoicing thankfulness with which she must have looked forward to an event so full of bliss to her individually, and so blessed a revelation of the Lord’s deep love for Abraham and herself.
Nearly twenty years had passed since the first promise of an heir in his own child had been given. Years, long, full of incident and feeling, seeming in their passing an interval long enough for the utter forgetfulness of the promise, save as it was supposed fulfilled in the birth of Ishmael. But now, in the retrospect, the promise flashed back with a vividness, a brightness, as if scarce a single year had passed ere it had been given: and Sarah must have felt self-reproached in the midst of her joy that she had not waited, had not trusted, had not believed unto the end.
And many a one, ere life has closed, will feel as she did. Not, indeed, from the same cause, - but often and often a prayer has been offered up, a promise given from the Word of God, and both have been forgotten, neglected, mistrusted, through long weary years – as vainly prayed and vainly answered – and yet, ere life has closed, recalled as by a flash of sudden light, by the divine answer to the one, and gracious fulfilment of the other.
Before the birth of Isaac, however, Abraham and his family once more removed their dwelling, partly, it may be supposed, to fulfil the words of the Lord previously spoken: -‘Arise, walk through the land, in the length of it and the breadth of it, for I will give it unto thee;’- and partly from the desolate appearance and poisonous vapours of the once beautiful vale of Sodom, and in consequence of the cessation of travellers, to whom Abraham had so delighted to show hospitality.
We shall pass lightly over the next event in the life of Sarah, having already made our remarks on a similar occurrence. The fault of the patriarch in again passing [off] his wife for his sister was indeed much greater than it had been at the first.
He had now no longer the excuse of not sufficiently knowing the ways of the Lord, to trust in Him, even in the midst of those dangers incidental to mankind, yet seeming too trivial for the interference of the Most High. He had had nearly thirty years’ experience that he was in truth the chosen servant and well-beloved of the Lord – that there was not an event in his life which had not been ordered and guided by a special providence; and he ought to have known that this danger, as every other, would be overruled.
Yet while we regret that this incomprehensible weakness should overshadow the beautiful character of our great ancestor, we may not condemn. For, at this distance of time and complete change in manners and customs, it is impossible for us to know the temptation he may have had to act as he did, or the extent of danger to which he was exposed. The most truly pious, the most experienced in religion, have often to mourn their ‘iniquities in holy things.’ The painful struggle it is always to realize faith, to trust without one doubt, and more particularly in the smaller trials of life, which they deem too trivial for the notice, compassion, or interference of the Eternal.
Nor can even proofs of a superintending Providence always conquer the weakness of human nature. In this world, the likeness of God will at times be completely hidden in the earthly shell, however it may stand forth at others, as if nought of clay could dull it more. And this was the case with Abraham, who, though the beloved of the Lord, was yet human, and liable to all the weaknesses and frailties of human nature.
We are not therefore to condemn, and so withdraw our admiration of his great and most consolingly beautiful character, because in two instances he falls short of our ideas of perfection, - but rather thank God that in His Word human nature is recorded as it is, simply that we may not despair. It is enough for us, in this part of our narrative, to notice that our gracious God demands no more of His creatures than He knows they can perform. That Abraham’s faulty weakness in this one instance could not blot from the recollection of the Lord his pure and simple faith in every other. And that He permitted all that occurred in the kingdom of Gerar to make manifest, alike to Abraham and the nations, His continued watchfulness and miraculous interposition in favour of those whom He loves – His power to protect them from all harm, and also that nothing was too wonderful for Him.
Sarah had imagined she was too old to enjoy the felicity [joy] of becoming a mother – too old in any way to excite admiration, save to the beloved husband of her youth; and, ignorant that her beauty had been supernaturally renewed, neglected to assume the veil, which was worn by all Eastern women dwelling in towns. This explains Abimelech’s present of a ‘covering for the eyes,’ and the words – ‘thus she was reproved,’ or warned, that her beauty subjected her to as much danger as had been the case in her youth.
Miraculously protected by the Eternal, and publicly vindicated from all dishonour by the King of Gerar, Sarah and her husband continued to dwell in Abimelech’s dominions, some few miles to the south of Gerar – a place afterwards called Beer-Shebang, or Well of the Oath, from the covenant of peace there made between the patriarch and the king. Here it was that at the appointed time ‘God visited Sarah as He had said;’ and the promised seed – the child of rejoicing – Isaac was born.
What must have been the emotions of Sarah on beholding him? Not alone the bliss of a mother; but that in him, the infant claimer of a love and joy which she had never so felt before, she beheld a visible and palpable [tangible] manifestation of the wonderful power and unchanging love of the Most High God.
Devoted, as Sarah had been, to the service and love of the Lord, how inexpressibly must those emotions have been heightened as she gazed upon her babe, and held him to her bosom as her own, her granted child!
To those who really love the Lord, joy is as dear, as bright, as close a link between the heart and its God, as grief is to more fallen natures. We find the hymn of rejoicing, the song of thanksgiving, always the vehicle in which the favoured servants of the Lord poured forth their grateful adoration, thus proving that the thought of the beneficent Giver ever hallowed and sanctified the gift.
And therefore we believe, with our ancient fathers, that though not translated metrically [poetically], Sarah expressed her joy in a short hymn of thanksgiving [Genesis 21:6-7]. The peculiar idiom of the Hebrew text confirms this supposition,[2] and we adopt it as most natural to the occasion. Her age had had no power, even before she became a mother, to dull her feelings, and her song of thanksgiving well expresses every emotion natural, not alone to the occasion, but to her peculiar situation.
As a young [new] mother, full of life, of sentiment, of affection, she felt towards her babe – giving him his natural food from her own bosom – tending his infant years – guiding him from boyhood to youth – from youth to manhood, and lavishing on him the full tide of love which had been pent up so long. The very character of Isaac, as is afterwards displayed – meek, yielding, affectionate almost as a woman’s – disinclined to enterprise – satisfied with his heritage – all prove the influence which his mother had possessed, and that his disposition was more the work of her hand than of his father’s
‘The child grew and was weaned,’ Holy Writ proceeds to inform us; ‘and Abraham made a great feast the day Isaac was weaned,’ – a feast of rejoicing, that the Eternal had mercifully preserved him through the first epoch of his young existence.
He was now three years old, if not more – for the women of the East, even now, do not wean their children till that age. The feast, however, which commenced in joy, was, for the patriarch, dashed with sorrow ere it closed. Educated with the full idea that he was his father’s heir – though the words of the angel before his birth gave no warrant for the supposition – to Ishmael and his mother, the birth of Isaac must have been a grievous disappointment.
And we find the son committing the same fault as his mother previously had done – deriding, speaking disrespectfully of Sarah and her child. The youth of Ishmael, and Sarah’s request, that the bondwoman might also be expelled, would lead to the supposition that it was Hagar who had instigated the affront. The age of Sarah, and the decidedly superhuman birth of Isaac, must, to all but the patriarch’s own household, have naturally given rise to many strange, and perhaps calumniating [defaming] reports. In the common events of life, all that is incomprehensible is either ridiculed, disbelieved, or made matter of scandal; and, therefore, in a case so uncommon as this, it is more than probable, reports very discreditable both to Sarah and Abraham were promulgated all around them.
Hagar, indeed, and Ishmael must have known differently: - that it was the hand of God which worked, and therefore all things were possible; but it was to Ishmael’s interest to dispute or deny the legitimacy of Isaac; and, therefore, it was not in human nature to neglect the opportunity. No other offence would have so worked on Sarah.
We are apt to think more poetically than justly of this part of the Bible. Hagar and her young son, expelled from their luxurious and happy home, almost perishing in the desert from thirst, are infinitely more interesting objects of consideration and sympathy, than the harsh and jealous Sarah, who, for seemingly such trifling offence, demanded and obtained such severe retribution.
We generally rest satisfied with one or two verses; whereas, did we look further and think deeper, our judgment would be different.
In a mere superficial reading, we acknowledge Sarah does appear in rather an unfavourable light; as if her love for Isaac had suddenly narrowed and stagnated every other feeling; and, jealous of Ishmael’s influence over his father, she had determined on seizing the first opportunity for his expulsion. That this, however, is a wrong judgment is proved by the fact that the Eternal Himself desires Abraham to hearken to the voice of Sarah in all that she shall say; for in Isaac was to be the promised seed, though of Ishmael also would He make a nation, because he was Abraham’s son. That Sarah’s advice was not to be displeasing to him, because of the lad and his mother.
Now, had Sarah’s advice proceeded from an undue harshness, a mean and jealous motive, the Most High would, in His divine justice, have taken other means for the fulfilment of His decrees. He would not have desired His good and faithful servant to be so guided by an evil and suspicious tongue.
There are times when we feel urged and impelled to speak that which we are yet conscious will be productive of pain and suffering to ourselves. All such impulses are of God; and it must have been some such feeling which actuated Sarah, and compelled her to continue her solicitation for the expulsion of Hagar and Ishmael, even after the moment of anger was passed.
We know that Hagar had ever been her favourite slave; - it was impossible for one affectionate as was Sarah, to have regarded Ishmael as her son for thirteen or fourteen years, and yet not have loved him, though, of course, with less intensity than his father. The birth of Isaac naturally revealed yet stronger emotions; still Ishmael could not have been so excluded from her affections as to render her separation from him void of pain. And still she spoke, still urged the necessity, conscious all the time she was inflicting pain, not only on her husband, but on herself.
This appears like contradiction; but each one who has attentively studied the workings of his own heart, will not only feel, but pronounce it truth. Anger caused the demand; ‘Expel this bondwoman and her son; for the son of this bondwoman shall not inherit with my son, even with Isaac;’ and calmer reflection continued to see the necessity.
Abraham’s possessions were sufficient for the heritage of both his sons; but as the course of nature was changed, and the younger, not the elder, was to be the heir of promise, confusion and discord would have ensued, and the brothers continually have been at war. Sarah’s penetration appears to have discovered this; and as it was necessary for Ishmael to form a separate establishment, it was an act of kindness, not of harshness, to let him depart with Hagar, instead of going forth alone.
From her own feelings she now knew the whole extent of a mother’s love; and, therefore, though Ishmael had been the sole offender, and the only one whose claims were likely to clash with Isaac’s, she would not separate the mother from the son, and so urged Abraham to separate from both.
There is something touchingly beautiful in the patriarch’s love for his elder son, and yet his instant conquest of self at the word of the Lord. His deep affection had blinded him to the probable discomforts which might ensue from his sons remaining together. His gentle and affectionate nature shrunk from the pang of separation, causing even displeasure against Sarah, for the first time in their long and faithful intercourse. Yet when God spake, there was neither complaint nor murmur, nor one word of supplication that the heavy trial might be averted from him. It was enough that the Most High had spoken; and, though all was dark before his son, to the fond, anxious gaze of paternal affection, he knew even from that darkness God could bring forth light, and would do so, for He had promised.
We are sometimes surprised at the small provision with which Abraham endowed his son at his departure. The riches of the patriarchs consisted of land, flocks, herds, and servants; nothing which could easily be bestowed. Besides which, Ishmael was to become the ancestor of a nation, through the direct agency of the Lord, not from any provision made him by his earthly father.
Had Abraham endowed him, the interposition of the Eternal would not have been so clearly and unanswerably demonstrated. There would have been many to have traced his riches and the princely rank of his descendants from the gifts and power of Abraham, and denied altogether any interposition of the Lord; whereas, sent forth as he was, with nothing but sufficient provision to sustain him till he reached his appointed resting, it was impossible even for the greatest sceptic to trace his future prosperity and wealth to any earthly power alone.
The bread and water must not be supposed as meaning only what we now regard them. In the language of the Bible bread is used indiscriminately for every kind of food, and the bottle of water signifies a skinful, such being used by Eastern travellers even now, and containing much more than we imagine is comprised by the term ‘bottle.’
Yet even these were to fail, that the miraculous power and compassionate love of the Eternal might still more startlingly be proved. It was as easy for the Most High to have guided Ishmael and his mother at once to their destined dwelling, as to try them as He did in the ordeal of alike physical and mental suffering. But He chose the latter, at once to prove His love to them and to give to [people of] future ages, through His unerring Word, comfort in their darkest hour; for as He relieved Hagar, so will He them. The God of the bondwoman is ours still; no time, no change can part us from Him.
The narrative of Hagar’s wanderings in the wilderness, her maternal suffering, and the miraculous relief, is one of the most beautiful and most touching amongst the many beauties of the Bible. Hagar was not of Abraham’s race, but one of a heathen and benighted nation, a bondwoman and a wanderer, a weak and lonely female, exiled from a home of love, overwhelmed with anxious fears for her child, perhaps, too, with self-reproaches for the unguarded words which she encouraged her boy to speak, and which she regarded as the sole cause of her banishment.
Yet was this poor sufferer the peculiar care of the great and mighty God. He caused the clouds of densest darkness to close around her – from them to bring forth the brightest, most enduring light. He deigned, by His angel, to speak comfort and hope, and even for her human wants provided the necessary aid. He did not guard from sorrow; for it was not until ‘the water was spent in the bottle, and she cast the child under one of the shrubs, and she went and sat down over against him, a good way off, for she said, Let me not see the death of the child; and she sat over against him, and lifted up her voice and wept’ – not till her trial was thus at its height, that the angelic voice descended from heaven in such pitying and sympathizing accents. ‘What aileth thee, O Hagar? Fear not, for God hath heard the voice of the lad whence his is. Arise, lift up the lad, and hold him in thine hand, for I will make him a great nation.’ And the promise was fulfilled.
The whole history of Hagar is fraught [filled] with the deepest comfort. She was one of the many in individual character; possessing alike woman’s engaging and faulty characteristics: feeling and affectionate at one time, overbearing and insolent at another – loving Ishmael with impetuous and clinging love, which could not bear to see his supposed heritage become the property of another, though she knew it was the decree of God. Reverencing and loving Abraham, alike as her master and the father of her child, but unable always to preserve the submission and respect due to Sarah as her mistress and indulgent friend; for, though the mother of Abraham’s child, she was still Sarah’s maid; - such was Hagar.
Neither in character superior, nor in station equal, to the daughters of Israel now; yet was she the peculiar charge of the Most High, and twice did He deign, in closest communion, to instruct and console. Her life had its trials, in no way inferior in severity or in deep suffering to the trials of the present day. Yet God was with her in them all; and, in His own appointed time, permitted them to give place to prosperity and joy.
And as He worked then, so He worketh now. It is no proof of His dearest love, when life passes by without a cloud – when sorrow and trial are strangers to our path. His Word reveals that those whom He loved the best, alike male or female, endured the severest trials – that His love, His guiding Word, were not given to the children of joy. To become His servant, His loved, His chosen, was to suffer and to labour.
We see this throughout His Word; and shall we, dare we, expect their exemption now? Oh no, no! Would we love the Lord, would we truly be loved by Him, would we pray for and seek His paths, would we struggle on to the goal of immortal love and bliss, we must nerve both heart and frame to bear; strengthen and arouse every faculty to endure and suffer; for so did His chosen, His best beloved, and so too must we. We have still His Word to be to us as the angelic whisper was to our ancestors. Their hope is ours, and their reward.
Few other events mark the life of Sarah. The Most High had brought her forth from the trials, anxieties, and doubts of previous years. He had, in His infinite mercy, fulfilled His word, and bestowed on her the blessed gift for which, in the midst of happiness, she had pined. Continuing His loving-kindness, He lengthened her days much beyond the usual sum of mortality, that she might rear her child to manhood, and receive all the blessed fruit of her maternal care in Isaac’s deep love and reverence for herself.
In a mere superficial perusal of the life of Sarah, as read in our Sabbath portions, we are likely to overlook much of the consoling proofs of the Eternal’s compassionating love for His female children, which it so powerfully reveals.
Sarah was ninety years of age when Isaac was born. In the course of nature, ten or twelve years more would either have closed her mortal career, or rendered it, from the infirmities of so great an age, a burden to herself and all around her. There was no need of her preservation to forward the decrees of the Lord. In giving birth to the child of promise, her part was fulfilled, and at the age of ten or twelve the boy might have done without her. But God is LOVE, and the affections of His children are, in their strength and purity, peculiarly acceptable to Him. He never bestoweth happiness to withdraw it. And, therefore, to perfect the felicity of Sarah and her child, His tenderness preserved her in life and vigour seven and thirty years after she had given him birth.
In this simple fact we trace the beneficent and tender Father, sympathizing not alone in every grief and pang, but in every joy and affection of His creatures. We feel to our heart’s core the truth of the words of Moses, ‘Who hath God so near to Him as Israel? What nation can so trace, so claim the love of the Eternal?'
Nor was the preservation of Sarah the only proof of our Father’s loving tenderness towards her, and of His condescending sympathy with the love she bore her child. The trial of faith, in the sacrifice of his son, was given to the father; but the mother was spared the consuming agony which must have been her portion, even had her faith continued strong. God had compassion on the feebler, weaker nature of His female servant. He demanded not from her that which He knew the mother could not bear. He spared her, in His immeasurable love, the suffering which it pleased Him to inflict upon the father – suffering and temptation not to satisfy the Lord, for His omniscience knew that His faithful servant would not fail; but to prove to future ages the mighty power of spiritual faith and love, even while in the mortal clay.
In the early part of his spiritual career, even Abraham’s faith would in all probability have failed. He was not supernaturally endowed with divine grace and strength. All through his life we can trace his gradual advance and improvement, till his faith and love arrived at the climax which permitted even the offered and unmurmuring sacrifice of his dearly beloved and now only child. Even in this we trace the guiding and fostering love of the Lord – demanding not more than He knew could be given, and measuring the trial of faith according to the advancing strength of His servant, each one more than the last.
But this consideration has more to do with [just] Abraham individually and Israel at large. It is His loving-kindness manifested towards Sarah that we, her female descendants, must take to our hearts, thence to derive alike strength and consolation. The conviction of the Eternal’s love for us individually is necessary for woman’s happiness, and peculiarly adapted to its bestowal.
It is woman’s nature to yearn and droop for love – to shrink in agony from a lonely path – to long for some supporting arm on which to rest her weakness; and it is woman’s doom, too often, to find on earth no loving rest, and therefore is her lot so sad.
But when she can once realize that she is the subject of a love as immeasurably superior, in consolation, strength, and changeless sympathy, to that of man as the heaven is above the earth. When she can once feel she has a friend who will never ‘leave her nor forsake’ – in whose pitying ear she may pour forth trials and griefs, either petty or great, which she would not, even if she might, confide to man, secure not only of pity but of healing. When she is conscious that she is never lonely – never left to her own weakness, but in her every need will have strength infused – then, then is she so blessed, that she is no more lonely, no more sad!
And the Word of God will give us this thrice-blessed consolation, not in His gracious promises alone, though they in themselves would be sufficient, but in His dealings with His creatures.
As the ancestor of His beloved, we find Sarah’s death and age particularly recorded; being the first woman of the Bible whose death and burial are mentioned. The deep grief of her husband and son are simply but touchingly betrayed in the brief words, ‘And Abraham came to mourn for Sarah, and to weep for her;’ and at a later period, not till his marriage with Rebekah, ‘and Isaac was comforted after his mother’s death.’
Words that portray the beauty and affection of Sarah’s domestic character, and confirm our belief that, although perhaps possessing many of the failings of her sex, she was yet a help meet for Abraham – a tender and judicious parent to her son – and a kind, indulgent friend to the large household of which she was the mistress.
Her noble, or rather princely, rank, received as it had been direct from the Lord, is still more strongly proved by the intercourse between Abraham and the sons of Heth, when seeking from them a place to bury his dead: ‘Hear us, my lord,’ is their reply; ‘thou art a mighty prince of God amongst us: in the choicest of our sepulchres bury thy dead;’ and it was with difficulty Abraham could elude the offered gift, and procure the cave as a purchase.
His princely rank, however, and in consequence that of his wife, we see at once acknowledged, even by strangers; and the promise of the Lord, expressed in changing the name of Sarai into Sarah, clearly fulfilled.
The grief of Isaac appears to have lasted yet longer than that of his father, and beautifully illustrates the love between the mother and son. Abraham, advanced in years and spiritual experience, felt less keenly the mere emotions of humanity; he was convinced that Sarah had only gone before him to that world in which, from his great age, he would, no doubt, speedily join her.
His many duties – his close communion with the Eternal – enabled him to rouse himself sooner from the grief, which, at first, was equally severe; but Isaac was, according to the patriarchal reckoning of time, still a very young man, at the age when feeling is keener, less controlled than at any other; and when, though spiritual comfort is great, human emotions will have full vent.
Except the three days' journey to Mount Moriah with his father, Isaac does not appear to have been separated a single day from his mother; and her care, her guiding and fostering love, had so entwined her round his heart, that for three years after her death her son could find no comfort. How exalted and lovely must have been that mother’s character to demand such a term of mourning from her son, whose youth and sex would, in some, have speedily roused him from sorrow, or urged its forgetfulness in scenes of pleasure!
We have little more to add on the spiritual lesson and divine consolation which Sarah’s life presents to her female descendants, than those hints already given. Differently situated as we are, with regard to station, land, and customs, we may yet imitate her faithfulness in all her household duties – her love and reverence to her husband – her tenderness to her child – her quiet, unpretending, domestic, yet dignified fulfilment of all which she was called upon to do.
We may learn from her to set no value on personal charms, save as they may enhance the gratification of those who love us best; or of rank and station, save as they demand from us yet deeper gratitude towards God, and more extended usefulness towards man.
We may learn, too, from her history, that it is better to wait for the Lord – to leave in His hands the fulfilment of our ardent wishes – than to seek to compass them by human means.
We may trace and feel that nothing, in truth, is too wonderful for the Lord; that He will do what pleaseth Him, however we may deem it hopeless and in vain. Direct revelations as vouchsafed to Sarah, indeed, we have not; but God has, in His deep mercy, granted us His Word – the record of all He has done – that we may feel He is still OUR God; and though He worketh now in secret – for our sins have hid from us His ways – yet He worketh for us still, and hath compassion and mercy and love for each of us individually, even as He had for Sarah, and her bondwoman Hagar.
All these to us, as women, her history reveals: as women of Israel, oh yet more! It is of no stranger in race and clime and faith we read. It is of OUR OWN – of one from whom Israel hath descended in a direct, unshadowed line – of one – the beloved and cherished partner of that chosen servant and beloved friend of the Eternal, for whose sake revelation was given to mankind – Israel made not alone the nation, but the FIRST-BORN of the Lord.
And that law bestowed, which revealed a God of ‘love, long-suffering and gracious, plenteous in mercy and truth;’ – instructed us how to tread our earthly path, so as to give happiness to ourselves and fellow-creatures – to be acceptable to Him; - and pointed with an angel-finger to that immortal goal, where man shall live forever!
Is it nothing to be the lineal descendants of one so favoured – nothing to hold in our hands and shrine in our hearts, the record of her life from whom the race of promise sprung? Nothing, to peruse the wonderful manifestations of the Lord’s love to her – to feel that from Him direct was Sarah’s patent of nobility, and yet possess the privilege of being her descendant?
Will the women of Israel feel this as nothing – will they disdain their princely birth – their heavenly heritage? Will they scorn to look back on Sarah as their ancestor, and yet long for earthly distinctions, earthly rank?
No! Oh no! Let us but think of these things – of those from whom we have descended, and our minds will become ennobled, our hearts enlarged. We shall scorn the false shame which would descend to petty meannesses to hide our faith, and so exalt us in the sight of a Gentile world. Humbled, cast off for a little moment as we are – liable to persecution, scorn, contumely [rudeness] – to be ‘despised and rejected’ of men – to bear the burden of affliction from all who choose to afflict – still, still, we cannot lose our blessed heritage unless we cast it off.
We cannot be deprived of our birthright, unless, like Esau, we exchange it for mere worldly pelf [gain], and momentary (because earthly) gratification. We are still Israelites – still the chosen, the beloved, the ARISTOCRACY of the Lord.
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