The Abraham Narratives in Genesis 12–25

Introduction

‘For Philo, as for Plato’, writes Hendel (2012), ‘the highest calling is the wise man’s philosophical ascent from the cave of this world. The “visible symbols” of this philosophical and spiritual quest are the call and migration of the patriarch Abraham’ (p. 94). Genesis 12–25, which relates the call, journeys, and life of Abraham and his family, continues to inspire and puzzle readers. Some of its stories have long been a source of controversy. Some have given rise to a variety of academic questions. Modern readers wrangle over the meaning of these ancient narratives. They investigate their historical formation, literal sense, and subsequent interpretation. Ultimately, however, they encounter an ancient text of enduring importance, which bears witness to the quest for wisdom. As Williamson (2003: 15) puts it, Abraham is a figure of national, historical, and theological importance. His story has given rise to a vast array of scholarly works. This article looks at some of those works with a view to outlining the current state and future development of research related to the Abraham narratives.

The academic literature on Genesis 12–25 exceeds the possible limits for a concise survey, and a presentation of recent works in this field can no longer be comprehensive. In a sense, the real question is about the scholarly works that have to be excluded from the survey. Many important studies on the Abraham narratives, both short and lengthy, could not be taken into consideration in this review. However, an interested reader will find them in the bibliographies of the books and articles presented below. For this reason, the present survey does not attempt to be comprehensive, but only representative.

A practical way to limit the list of works in question is to set a terminus a quo. With a few exceptions, this review deals with works published since the year 2000. However, a good survey of twentieth-century diachronic and synchronic approaches to Genesis can be found in Wénin (2001). This review adopts thematic criteria and organizes the material around five categories. It begins with commentaries, which usually represent a mature understanding of a wide range of issues belonging to the study of Genesis. Commentaries also have a long-lasting impact on the field. Then, as biblical texts are artefacts created in particular historical and cultural circumstances, the second section of this article presents views on the historical formation of Genesis 12–25. It goes without saying that this topic cannot be separated from the historical formation of the whole Pentateuch. Another important trend in recent academic literature is synchronic and theological studies. They examine the final form of Genesis and discern theological themes present therein. Some of those studies are discussed in section three of this review. In turn, the fourth section investigates the history of reception of the Abraham narratives, another field of growing importance. Finally, as the focus of many academic works is on particular chapters of the Abraham cycle rather than the whole of it, the fifth section deals with detailed studies. The order of works presented in sections one through four is chronological. The final section follows the order of chapters in Genesis 12–25.

The thematic criteria adopted in this review are only one possible way of organizing the vast scholarly material. There are obvious limitations to this approach. However, any alternative approach to categorizing this literature is not without problems. Hence it is sometimes the case that a particular book belongs to two or three categories. For instance, Fretheim’s (2007) Abraham is a theological study, but it also discusses Abraham’s influence on extra-biblical and post-biblical literature. The majority of synchronic and theological studies presented here deal with the final form of Genesis. It does not mean, however, that those studies never examine the text from a diachronic perspective. Then, although the focus of some of the works discussed below is solely on Genesis 12–25, many others interpret the Abraham cycle in the light of the whole book of Genesis or even the whole Pentateuch.

Lastly, this review gives priority to books over journal articles. There are two reasons for that. First, the sheer number of articles on the Abraham narratives published since 2000 prevents the possibility of presenting them in a satisfactory manner. Secondly, many of those articles represent a first and often limited attempt to discuss a particular topic. If they are developed further, they will eventually make their way into books. The reader will find more journal articles in the bibliographies of books discussed here, and, to identify some of the leading scholars working in the field, the volume edited by Evans, Lohr, and Petersen (2012) is an excellent starting point.

Commentaries

A succinct but influential commentary on Genesis, published at the beginning of the new millennium, is Whybray’s (2001) contribution to The Oxford Bible Commentary. As Barton and Muddiman (2001) explain in the introduction to that commentary, its exegetical perspective can be described as ‘chastened historical criticism’ (pp. 1, 3). Whybray’s starting point is historical-critical, and it is clear that he owes much to Gunkel (1964), von Rad (1958), and Van Seters (1992), among others. That said, Whybray skilfully links historical and theological issues and debates theological questions. By way of example, Abraham’s dramatic plea for Sodom in Gen. 18.17-33 asks a question of God’s justice in the context of post-exilic trauma (2001: 52). Whybray proposes an underlying theological unity for the Abraham narratives, asserting that they are unified by two principal themes: ‘God’s choice of Abraham and his descendants out of the entire human race and the promises that he made to them’ (p. 40).

Brodie’s (2001) Genesis as Dialogue represents a departure from a typical historical-critical genre. Brodie claims that Genesis, a Persian-period literary composition, is based on the literature of Israel’s great prophets as well as on Homer’s Odyssey. He argues that the Abraham narratives, and indeed the whole of Genesis, comprise a number of distinct literary diptychs. The presence and theological role of the diptychs are the main keys to the book’s interpretation. The story of Abraham consists of seven diptychs. The diptychs, in turn, comprise literary panels. For instance, Brodie identifies the literary form of the first diptych in chs. 12 and 13 as trial mixed with travel narrative. Its first panel (Gen. 12.1–13.1) is entitled ‘The Trial of Seeing beyond Beauty’, whereas the second one (Gen. 13.2-18) is ‘The Trial of Seeing beyond Wealth’ (2001: 209-19). Brodie’s approach also consists in identifying parallels and themes between the diptychs of Genesis. He demonstrates that the very beginning of the Abraham cycle is intrinsically connected to the Aqedah story in Gen. 22.1-19. The trials of Genesis 12–13 lead to Abraham’s ultimate trial and test in Genesis 22 (p. 209).

Though many theological commentaries on Genesis published these days exhibit a variety of methodological perspectives, there are commentators who prefer to restrict their repertoire to the historical-critical method. Ruppert’s (2002) substantial volume, dedicated exclusively to the Abraham narratives, is a good case in point. Ruppert develops his theology of Genesis mainly from a historical-critical analysis of the text, and avoids synchronic modes of interpretation. His positions are fairly conservative, and he does not always satisfactorily engage with other modern scholars, especially those belonging to Anglo-American academia. The main features of this commentary include dating the work of the Yahwist to the tenth century bce and distinguishing a significant number of editorial layers. Ruppert does not support the hypothesis of a major Deuteronomic redaction of the Genesis narratives, but he emphasizes the links between the Abraham narratives and the book of Isaiah.

Unlike Ruppert, Cotter (2003) avoids questions of a historical nature, and focuses almost entirely on the literary and theological features of Genesis 12–25. The hallmark of Cotter’s narrative commentary is his preoccupation with structural features of the text. Occasionally, he also discusses the reception history of Genesis. Cotter’s approach to the book is based on two premises. First, he admits that biblical exegesis is rooted in and conditioned by the personal experience of an interpreter (pp. xiii-xiv). Secondly, Cotter is convinced that it is impossible to discover the message of ancient narratives without paying close attention to detail. ‘The Bible presents us with literary miniatures’, writes Cotter, ‘which must be read differently from the other texts with which we come into contact. We are used to huge piles of words, an approach foreign to the Bible, where a character appears, develops, and disappears in a few paragraphs or a few chapters’ (p. xv). These two premises are then consistently applied to Genesis 12–25, which Cotter calls the ‘Abraham Saga’ telling the story of the ‘first generation of the troubled family chosen for blessing’ (pp. 83-179).

An excellent example of a one-volume commentary which brings together historical and literary approaches is Arnold’s (2009) Genesis. Arnold helps readers understand the book in the context of relevant ancient Near Eastern literature, and his insights are deeply theological. He asserts: ‘Genesis is above all a theological book. Its theological propositions and convictions are foundational for the rest of the Bible’ (p. 18). Arnold applies both analytic and synthetic perspectives to the interpretation of the Abraham narratives. His examination of Genesis 15 leads to the conclusion that the covenant with Abraham may be ‘viewed as a “theological compendium”, in which major themes of the Pentateuch are drawn together and interpreted theologically’ (p. 152). However, he also offers comments on the whole Abraham cycle, and, more generally, on the ancestral narratives in Genesis 12–36. To understand his treatment of those narratives, we need to keep in mind that, in the most fundamental sense, Israel experienced God as its saviour. This experience comes first and is preserved in the opening chapters of the book of Exodus. In the light of that soteriological experience, Israel reflects on its past in the ancestral narratives. The central theological theme in these narratives is identified by Arnold as the revelation of Yhwh (pp. 18-19).

Readers with an interest in reception history will welcome Blenkinsopp’s (2015) discursive commentary on Genesis 12–25. Blenkinsopp’s starting point is firmly historical-critical, as we would expect from him. However, like many commentators mentioned above, he also skilfully combines various interpretative approaches, and offers a brief but interesting survey of Jewish, Christian, and Islamic literature related to the Abrahamic traditions. Blenkinsopp is among the majority of scholars to argue that the Abraham narratives were written down and edited at a fairly late stage of Israelite history: ‘The loss of life, destruction of property, and elimination of the institutions that make social life possible would have left the survivors of the Babylonian conquest in 586 bce in a numb and disoriented state… In many respects, the Abraham story reads like an attempt to respond to this situation’ (p. 21). Blenkinsopp elucidates the literal sense of Genesis 12–25 in the exilic and post-exilic contexts, but he is also aware that those contexts do not restrict the enduring message of the text. The impact of the Abraham narratives on the subsequent generations of Jewish, Christian, and Muslim interpreters is without parallel, and Blenkinsopp fully succeeds in demonstrating that impact.

There are many other commentaries on Genesis published in recent years. The reader should keep in mind that any attempt to arrange them into neat categories is at best provisional. Commentaries by Brayford (2007), Mather (2010), Shamah (2011), and Walton (2013) clearly stand out. Brayford presents, justifies, and comments on her translation of Genesis based on the Greek text of Codex Alexandrinus. Cotton Mather’s commentary, written around the turn of the eighteenth century and recently edited by Smolinski, is important for the history of interpretation. The eclectic commentary by Shamah skilfully combines rabbinic exegesis with modern approaches, whereas Walton’s work will appeal to anyone interested in the study of the ancient background of Genesis through images and maps.

Many commentaries on Genesis 12–15, and indeed on the whole of Genesis, are written from a conservative evangelical perspective. To a greater or lesser extent, Hartley (2000), Waltke and Fredricks (2001), Walton (2001), Mathews (2005), Sailhamer (2008), and Longman (2016) adduce arguments to support the Mosaic authorship of some pentateuchal texts and the general historical accuracy of the Abraham narratives. Readers inclined to study the final form of the text in light of literary approaches will find the commentaries by Turner (2000), Kessler and Deurloo (2004), as well as Krauss and Küchler (2004) useful. The theological content and modern relevance of Genesis 12–25 is brought to the fore by Towner (2001), McKeown (2008), De La Torre (2011), and Kline (2016), whereas a scholarly commentary by Willi-Plein (2011) and an introductory book by Provan (2016) apply various methodologies to the text with the aim of demonstrating its complexity and significance. Some of the works mentioned above, such as Walton (2001) or Towner (2001), are intended for the general reader, and this trend is continued by Goldingay (2010a, 2010b) and Cook (2011). Goldingay’s and Cook’s books will be of interest to beginners and to teachers looking for introductory material on Genesis.

Historical Formation of the Abraham Narratives

Most biblical scholars would agree with the following statement made by Whybray: ‘About the process or processes by which the diverse material was combined to form a single literary work there is at present no consensus of opinion’ (2001: 39). Attempts to explain the origin, formation, and final editing of Genesis are numerous, complex, and often contradictory. All of them are known under the umbrella term of ‘historical-critical method’.

A fairly recent theory of the historical origin of the Pentateuch, which sheds light on the formation of the Abraham narratives, is found in Campbell and O’Brien (2005). The authors claim that the documentary hypothesis is not necessary to explain the diversity of pentateuchal material. Instead, what they propose is ‘the acknowledgment that some biblical narrative was created as a base for users to begin from, coupled with the acceptance that the variant versions of traditions and stories—present in the biblical texts—could have been preserved for selection by the users of those texts in ancient times’ (p. xiii). A case in point is Genesis 12–13 and 18–19, where the identification of diverse traditions as well as examples of ‘enhancement’ and ‘blending’ texts used by storytellers is a way to explain the notorious complexity of these passages. Campbell and O’Brien admit that the intricacy of these texts stems from the effort of their editors to preserve diverse traditions. What makes Campbell and O’Brien’s work innovative is the following claim: ‘It is a shift of emphasis to see in this preservation [of multiple traditions] the offering of options to storytellers, well skilled in adapting traditions appropriately for their audiences’ (p. 121).

Schmid (2010) offers an interesting modification of the classic documentary hypothesis. He argues that the primeval and ancestral narratives in Genesis, on the one hand, and the exodus narratives, on the other, had been disparate and competing traditions of Israel’s beginnings, and were successfully linked only in the early Persian period by Priestly or post-Priestly authors/redactors. A good example of that editorial activity is Genesis 15, narrating God’s covenant with Abraham and alluding to the time of the Egyptian bondage. Schmid’s work is firmly rooted in European continental scholarship, and the spin-off from his research is the widely held hypothesis that P is a well-delineated source or redactional layer. Kratz (2006), another influential European scholar, confirms this conviction by saying that ‘only for the Priestly Writing and Deuteronomy can one suggest a sure textual basis that is capable of gaining a consensus’ (p. 482).

Carr’s (2011) work on the formation of the Hebrew Bible provides a valuable background to a proper understanding of the literal sense of the ancestral narratives. Carr deals with a highly complex issue. However, he is clearly aware of the strengths and limitations of his methodology and takes care not to present hypothetical reconstructions as established facts. Carr accepts the consensus about the identification of the P and non-P material in the Pentateuch, but admits that the Abraham narratives are a difficult case. Genesis 12–25 contains complex and mixed traditions, and although some of them might, at least theoretically, be pre-exilic, this would be difficult to prove with any degree of certainty. Carr concludes: ‘Overall, the complex of Abrahamic traditions constitutes a prime instance where texts in the Hebrew Bible of demonstrable theological significance are relatively difficult to place on a chronological continuum in this sort of history’ (p. 485).

Baden (2012) revisits Wellhausen’s hypothesis and assigns pentateuchal texts to each of the four independent sources. Although Baden has been called a ‘neo-documentarian’, there are considerable differences between Baden’s and Wellhausen’s methodologies. The main dissimilarities are as follows: (1) focusing on the historical claims of the narrative rather than relying primarily on stylistic, thematic, and theological features of the text; (2) emphasizing the distinctive character of each source in terms of the story it tells; and (3) rejecting the link between the documentary hypothesis and the historical reconstruction of the Israelite religion (pp. 246-47). Also, Baden does not investigate the absolute dates of the four sources, but only claims the relative chronological precedence of D over J and E. Neither does he concern himself with the possibility of distinguishing strata within each of the sources. Finally, Baden postulates the existence of only one compiler who combined the four sources, and so rejects the complexity that the documentary hypothesis exhibited even in its early stages of development (pp. 247-49).

This approach to the text and its pre-history is developed in The Promise to the Patriarchs, where Baden (2013) provides a rationale for ascribing the promise texts to J, E, and P. Baden maintains that both documentary and non-documentary approaches to the promise texts in the Pentateuch have been seriously flawed. He claims that non-priestly promise texts ‘align exactly with the classical documents J and E’ (p. 161), and that ‘the source-critical readings of the promises can be combined with a canonical approach to construct novel theological interpretations of the Pentateuch as a whole’ (p. 162). Obviously, his solution to the source-critical problem is rooted in the modified documentary hypothesis he proposes. In this respect, he seems fairly isolated from the mainstream of pentateuchal criticism. However, many elements of his textual analysis remain valid and indisputable, even if other scholars would draw a different set of conclusions from them.

Carr (2014) has recently continued his quest for the historical reconstruction of the Hebrew Bible, and provided a more precise dating of the Abraham narratives. Carr gives two reasons why this material, as we now know it, was revised in the Babylonian exile and shortly afterwards. First, ‘the Judean exiles could relate to figures like Abraham and Sarah, who lived, like them, in a land not their own’ (p. 95). Secondly, ‘these stories about Abraham and other figures were distinct enough from exilic experience to be safe… Caught in collective amnesia about their exilic present and past, these Judeans in Babylon focused instead on stories of ancient ancestors’ (p. 96). Carr does not claim that the Abraham narratives originated in the sixth century bce. Rather, he speaks of their sixth-century revision and assumes the existence of earlier oral and written traditions related to Abraham (p. 93).

The contribution of Van Seters to the field of historical criticism has been highly significant. In recent years, we have been given another formulation of his well-known views. In ‘Dating the Yahwist’s History’, Van Seters (2015) writes that the Yahwist, whose work forms a large part of Genesis 12–25, is ‘the basic non-P source of the Pentateuch in Genesis to Numbers, which made quite creative use of older traditions in order to construct a history from the creation of humanity and the Patriarchs to their sojourn in Egypt… This was written as a prologue and extension of D and the Dtr History’ (p. 2). Van Seter’s (2013) The Yahwist is based on the same argument. However, unlike the above article, the book helps situate and understand the Abraham narratives in the wider context of ‘the Yahwist’s antiquities of Israel’. Especially interesting are two short excursus (there are three altogether) inserted between the two main parts of the book. In the first one, Van Seters touches upon the literary connection between the primeval story and the patriarchal narratives, and refers the reader to his earlier studies to understand the problem fully (pp. 133-34). The focus of the second excursus is the story of Abraham and the King of Gerar in Genesis 20 and 21.22-34. Van Seters revisits his earlier views and argues that both passages are a ‘late post-J addition’ (p. 136).

To gain a deeper insight into the historical-critical studies of Genesis, an interested reader should also consult three collections of essays focusing on the growth and composition of pentateuchal texts. Articles in the volume edited by Dozeman and Schmid (2006) probe into the thesis that the Priestly author combined the ancestral and the Moses traditions into a major pentateuchal narrative. The volume corroborates this thesis, while at the same time offering space to dissenting voices. A commendable attempt to discuss differences and commonalities in the work of North American, European, and Israeli scholars working on the Pentateuch is seen in Dozeman, Schmid, and Schwartz (2011). The first section of the book focuses on methodology and provides a background to understand the wider issues surrounding the formation of the Abraham narratives. Finally, a volume edited by Giuntoli and Schmid (2015) discusses the post-Priestly contribution to the compositional process.

Synchronic and Theological Studies

There are certain limitations to the source-critical investigation of the Pentateuch. This is why many modern scholars prefer to analyse the final form of the text. Yet their focus on the final form does not necessarily preclude the socio-historical context of biblical literature. This is clearly the case with the first book presented in this section. Other authors prefer to be guided by the methodology of narrative criticism supplemented by a theological reflection on the text.

Brett (2000) combines historical criticism with social theory. The final editors of Genesis, who lived in the Persian period, were driven by a particular purpose, which can be identified as long as we interpret the book with an eye firmly fixed on the politics of that period. Brett argues that the final textual layer of Genesis reflects the effort of the Judahite editors to weaken the Jewish ethnocentrism of the period. Brett explains: ‘Theologically, the final editors are proposing a less ethnocentric understanding of Israelite identity through a re-telling of Israelite origins. But this theological purpose may well be related to economic issues insofar as the discourse of the “holy seed” was part of a strategy to control land tenure within this administrative district of the Persian empire’ (p. 5). The notion of the ‘holy seed’ underlies the theological vision of Ezra and Nehemiah, and Genesis is a strong polemic against it. Abraham’s origins, the overflowing of divine blessing on ‘all the families of the earth’, as well as the oblique critique of endogamous marriages in Genesis allow Brett to label the book as ‘resistance literature’ (see esp. pp. 49-85).

The Earth Story in Genesis edited by Habel and Wurst (2001) is based on six ‘ecojustice principles’, which also inform other volumes published in this series. Contributors to this volume ‘read the biblical text from the perspective of Earth’ and reflect on Genesis through the prism of the principles of intrinsic worth, interconnectedness, voice, purpose, mutual custodianship, and resistance (p. 20). Although most of the essays in this volume deal with the primeval story in Genesis, McAfee (2001) discusses the topic of biological and social reproduction in the Abraham narratives and writes:

Next to God’s command to the first human beings to ‘be fruitful and multiply’ in Gen. 1.28, the call of Abraham in Genesis 12 is the most important passage in the Hebrew Bible concerning the interaction of human beings and the natural environment. Its importance lies in that it both recognizes and profoundly reconceptualizes the fundamental fact of human interaction with the natural world, that is, social population. (p. 158)

For Borgman (2001: 11-12), the Aqedah story in Genesis 22 provides the springboard for emphasizing the importance of the synchronic reading of the text. Borgman opposes an atomistic approach to Genesis (a ‘bits-and-pieces approach’) and postulates the discovery of literary connections and patterns of repetition in the text. This, in turn, helps him appreciate the literary and theological themes present in Genesis. As far as the Abraham narratives are concerned, Borgman sees a clearly recognizable structure in them based on seven divine visits to Abraham. The visits gradually reveal Abraham’s role and importance (pp. 41-132).

Kass (2003) analyses a number of significant themes of Genesis, such as freedom, reason, sexual desire, marriage, patriarchy, and death. But the main purpose of this book is to convince the reader that Genesis is on a par with the greatest philosophical works of our civilization. Kass argues that the paradigmatic stories of Genesis are in fact a treatise on philosophical anthropology. They address many modern existential questions. If the reader’s goal is to find wisdom, reading and reflecting on Genesis are an excellent way to achieve this noble objective. Kass approaches the text as a whole, emphasizes that each word of the book matters, and pays attention to textual juxtapositions. Thus the first eleven chapters of Genesis ‘expose some of the enduring psychic and social obstacles to decent and righteous living’, whereas the goal of the following chapters is to present ‘a new human way of acting and standing in the world…through the education of the patriarchs’ (p. 10). Kass devotes three chapters to the figure of Abraham, and his treatment of Genesis 12–25 revolves around the trials that the patriarch had to endure (pp. 247-351). They are supposed to teach him the previously unknown aspects of God’s dealing with humanity.

Schneider’s (2004) study focuses solely on the patriarch’s wife Sarah and her theological significance in Genesis. In this literary and synchronic analysis of the text, supplemented by a discussion of the history of interpretation, Schneider looks at Genesis 11–23 and highlights Sarah’s and Abraham’s theological complementarity. The important feature of her interpretative approach is reading the whole Abraham/Sarah cycle as a succession of interconnected and developing stories, rather than focusing on isolated textual units. Schneider is convinced that if we want to understand fully the theological message conveyed by these stories, we need to examine the interaction between Sarah and all the other characters of the narrative cycle. Schneider argues that the Sarah narrative begins already in Genesis 11 and the key to understanding the female protagonist is provided in Genesis 16. The conclusion of the Sarah narrative in Genesis 23 constitutes a smooth transition to the narrative about Isaac and his wife Rebekah.

Another example of feminist criticism, a burgeoning trend in modern biblical exegesis, is Fischer’s (2005) Women Who Wrestled with God. Fischer interprets the text synchronically and canonically, and consistently argues that the female voices in the Abraham cycle should be allowed to speak more loudly. What underlies Fischer’s academic project is her deep conviction that the original meaning of many biblical texts was eclipsed by centuries of androcentric interpretation. That, in turn, led to one-sided and narrow interpretations. Fischer demonstrates that an attentive and theologically sensitive reading of the narratives about Sarah, Hagar, and other women can help rediscover themes and motifs that have been overlooked in exegesis for centuries.

A successful attempt to discern and explain a number of theological themes in the Abraham narratives is Fretheim’s (2007) Abraham. Fretheim’s methodology is based on narrative criticism and leads to deep theological insights. Abraham is the central figure of Genesis 12–25 and a ‘recipient of promises’, but it would be erroneous to think that the theological depth of this part of Genesis results only from Abraham’s dealings with God. On the contrary, it is the interaction with ‘outsiders’, such as Hagar, Ishmael, Abimelech, Melchizedek, Egyptians, and Canaanites, which helps crystallize the most profound message of the narratives and genealogies in Genesis 12–25. Commenting on Gen. 12.10–13.1 and 20.1-18, Fretheim notes:

People of faith have always had a somewhat mixed sense of how to relate to outsiders, those who stand outside their communities… A number of texts in the story of Abraham prompt reflection with respect to God’s relationship with outsiders. These texts prevent easy assumptions regarding God’s presence and activity in their lives. God is at work among them; indeed they are surrounded by divine graciousness, though they may not recognize it or name the experience for what it is. (p. 46)

Fretheim’s theological reflection on the Abraham narratives is complemented by an overview of how the figure of Abraham was understood in the rest of the Hebrew Bible, in deuterocanonical books, the pseudepigrapha, the New Testament, and Islamic works.

The recent proliferation of academic literature investigating literary and theological themes of Genesis is not surprising. Many readers are on the lookout for a theological synthesis of biblical texts. Moberly (2009) provides such a synthesis when he interprets Genesis as an exegete aware of the trends in early twenty-first century culture and theology. Moberly analyses large textual units of Genesis, such as chs. 12–50, but he also pays attention to singular verses. A good example of this focused reading is his chapter entitled ‘Gen 12:3a: A Biblical Basis for Christian Zionism?’ (pp. 162-78). Moberly writes:

The Book of Genesis comes to us, not as an interesting papyrological or epigraphic discovery from exploration of the Middle East…but in the context of the canonical scriptures of Judaism and Christianity. In this context, Genesis has a seemingly inexhaustible history of interpretation and appropriation, which gives rise to continuing expectations and assumptions as one comes to the text. (p. 12)

Thomas (2011) offers an example of synchronic exegesis using elements of redaction criticism. Thomas revisits the classic topic of the toledot formulas, and examines their nature. He also discusses the surprising lack of toledot at the beginning of the Abraham narrative, and explains that its presence would conflict with the main theme permeating this part of the story. Abraham and Sarah are childless, and only later in the narrative is this problem resolved by divine intervention (pp. 50-51). Hence there is no need to talk about ‘generations’ in Gen. 12.1 as they appear only in 25.12 and 25.19. That said, the main claim that Thomas makes is related to the function of the toledot formulas. They help narrow the focus of the story from the human race, through the nation of Israel, down to the religious leaders of Israel. At the same time, they help foreground the successive covenants introduced in Genesis and the subsequent books.

Schlimm’s (2011) study of the emotion of anger in Genesis is among the growing corpus of works exploring links between biblical texts, ethics, and psychology. Schlimm’s exegetical analyses are preceded by two general sections, where he examines the concept of anger in diverse cultural and historical contexts and discusses the strengths and limitations of using ethics to interpret scriptural texts. It is the final part of the book where Schlimm engages directly with the Abraham narratives (‘In Search of a Brother’s Keeper: Anger and Its Antithesis in Genesis’, pp. 133-84). He looks at Genesis 13 (the strife between the herders of Abraham’s and Lot’s livestock) as well as Genesis 16, 21 (the tension between Sarah and Hagar), and concludes: ‘Anger is a common feature of the fractured world and imperfect humanity that Genesis envisions. It is a permanent mark of the exile from Eden. Anger cannot be avoided. It must be engaged, lest it ruin morality, community, and even life itself’ (p. 180).

In this presentation of studies investigating theological themes in Genesis 12–25, Alexander’s (2012) book occupies a special place. It is very popular with lecturers and students, and has already had three editions. Alexander begins his discussion by providing an overview of pentateuchal criticism focused primarily on the documentary hypothesis, and then moves on to his main subject, the theological themes of the Pentateuch. The Abraham narratives receive a great deal of attention, mainly in part two of the book: ‘God’s Temple-City’, ‘The Royal Lineage of Genesis’, ‘The Blessing of the Nations’, ‘Paradise Lost’, and especially in ‘By Faith Abraham…’ (pp. 119-86). Alexander exerts a constant effort to explore literary and theological links between the Old and the New Testaments.

Grossman (2016) offers a very complex discussion of the final form of Genesis 12–25 based on the principles of narrative criticism and inspired by philosophy, theology, and reception history. His masterly interpretation of Genesis 22 illustrates this multidisciplinary methodology:

Abraham’s mouth and heart remain mysteriously sealed throughout the narrative… Privileging silence over the attempt to formulate Abraham’s unfathomable sorrow in words recalls Michel de Montaigne’s essay on sorrow. He writes about an artist who attempted to express the grief of those who watched Iphigenia’s sacrifice, and having depicted them with ‘the utmost power of his art, when he came to that of her father, he drew him with a veil over his face, meaning thereby that no kind of countenance was capable of expressing such a degree of sorrow’. (p. 468)

In the same chapter, Grossman refers to Jewish medieval exegetes, modern philosophers, literary theorists, and biblical scholars, providing a multi-faceted and elaborate interpretation of the Aqedah story.

Steinberg (2013) investigates the social construction of childhood in biblical texts. She analyses Genesis 21 as well as other chapters, and concludes that the children of the biblical world always have a subordinate relationship with their parents. Children live their lives to fulfil their parents’ demands and needs. This ancient concept of childhood is very different from the modern one, and Steinberg unpacks the biblical concept by analysing the dynamics of family life as portrayed in Genesis 12–25. Steinberg warns modern readers not to superimpose modern ideas about children and childhood on ancient biblical texts. Essentially, Hebrew and Israelite children were owned by their parents. They were precious commodities rather than independent human beings.

Steinberg’s examination of ancient childhood and Mbuvi’s (2016) work on identity formation in Genesis are complementary. Mbuvi chooses the concept of ‘family storytelling’ to elucidate the theological richness of Genesis, and of the Abraham narratives in particular. She uses that concept to analyse both genealogies and narratives in Genesis. Family storytelling helps us understand how identity is constructed in Genesis. It also encourages readers to move from ‘eurocentrism’ characterized by reading modern categories into ancient texts to ‘YHWH-centrism’ resulting from interpreting the text on its own terms. Identity is not a static concept based on genes and birth, claims Mbuvi. Rather, identity is a dynamic reality forged by an ever-developing personal relationship with God and other people.

The proliferation of synchronic studies on Genesis 12–25 is exemplified by the works of many other authors and editors. Some, like Hendel (2005), deal with the general themes of culture, history, and memory in the context of religious and ethnic identity, and discuss the functions of Abraham in biblical memory as well as the antiquity of traditions preserved in the ancestral narratives (pp. 31–56). Others, like Gossai (2008), trace and examine specific topics in the narrative, such as barrenness, wilderness, wrestling, and blessing, and emphasize their enduring relevance for modern readers. The question of the divine election of Abraham and Isaac accompanied by the ‘dis-election’ of Lot and Ishmael occupies scholars. Heard (2001) answers that question by explaining the sociological and ideological interests of the Yehudian authors of the Persian era. Hensel (2011) partly disagrees with Heard and proposes his own explanation. The election (and the dis-election) of the principal characters of Genesis provides not only a unifying theme binding the book’s sections together, but also a clear structure and a theological foundation for Jewish identity. These and other topics are further discussed in two important volumes: in a selection of essays authored by Ska (2009) and in Genesis and Christian Theology edited by MacDonald, Elliott, and Macaskill (2012). Though both works combine synchronic and diachronic methodologies, they are mentioned here because of their substantial theological contribution to the field.

Reception History

The historical reception of Genesis 12–25 is another rapidly developing field of academic study. This field examines literary texts and art by placing them in their respective historical contexts and involves multidisciplinary approaches. Seven chosen works, exhibiting a variety of themes and approaches within reception studies, are introduced in this section.

Kessler (2004) examines Gen. 22.1-14 and writes: ‘In my view, the existence (or non-existence) of an exegetical encounter [in Jewish and Christian interpretations of the sacrifice of Isaac] sheds light on the extent of interaction between Judaism and Christianity in late antiquity. It may also have relevance for the contemporary Christian-Jewish relationship…’ (p. 8). The category of ‘exegetical encounter’ is Kessler’s leitmotif and serves to underlie mutual influence rather than opposition between rabbinic and patristic authors of the first six centuries ce (p. 182). At the same time, Kessler is aware of the methodological limitations of his study. He admits that, despite the mutual influence, there are also significant theological differences between Jewish and Christian understanding of scriptural texts (p. 6).

The debate, which Kessler’s book exemplifies, continues in academia. A volume edited by Greiner, Janowski, and Lichtenberger (2007) is a collection of essays focusing on the historical understanding of Genesis 22 by Jewish, Christian, and Muslim authors and theologians. The first formative centuries of post-biblical Judaism and Christianity are covered, at least partly, in the essays by Naumann (2007), Mosès (2007), and Kühnel (2007). Other essays examine the Aqedah narrative in the Qur’an and in the works of various theologians and philosophers, such as Martin Luther, Immanuel Kant, Søren Kierkegaard, and Jacques Derrida. The volume also investigates the influence of Genesis 22 on the visual arts of different historical periods, on medieval literature, and on contemporary Israeli poetry.

The late Rabbi Soloveitchik’s (2008) posthumous collection of writings presents the reception of the Abraham narratives in medieval and modern Jewish tradition. Soloveitchik, a Boston-based influential Orthodox Jewish leader and expert on midrashic, talmudic, and medieval tradition, is known for his successful efforts to bring ancient Jewish thought into dialogue with modern American culture. Like most rabbis of the past, Soloveitchik regards Abraham as the proponent and defender of monotheism. Unlike many of them, he does not support the belief that Abraham practised the Torah long before it was revealed on Sinai. However, Abraham remains a paragon of virtue, excelling at hospitality. The events of his life form a paradigmatic pattern for the future history of his own offspring. Soloveitchik’s analyses of Genesis 12–25 are, to a great extent, homiletic in nature, because many parts of this volume are transcripts of his talks and lectures. His desire is to join ranks with famous rabbis of the past and adapt their message to the needs of modern audiences.

Reception studies of Genesis 12–25 are often situated within the much larger subject of the ‘Abrahamic religions’. However, as Hughes (2012) argues, ‘like our understanding of Abraham, the category “Abrahamic religions” is vague and nebulous. Although the term has become increasingly omnipresent in both popular and academic literature, its actual meaning nevertheless remains obscure’ (p. 2). A great number of current studies prove Hughes’s point and demonstrate the existence of diverse and often antithetical theological currents in the three monotheistic religions (cf. Hughes 2012: 145). At the same time, however, it is possible to demonstrate the presence of many common elements in the monotheistic traditions related to Genesis 12–25. Which aspect of the interaction between those three traditions is more dominant: tension or concord? This question is a driving force behind the recent proliferation of works examining the reception history of the Abraham narratives.

Levenson’s (2012) Inheriting Abraham is another important voice in the debate on the significance of Abraham in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Levenson evaluates many primary sources, with an emphasis on rabbinic literature, and concludes that ‘the idea of three equally Abrahamic religions fails in its naive attempt to move…from the observation that the three traditions speak of Abraham in ways that resonate across communal boundaries to the claim that the communal boundaries have no ultimate significance’ (pp. 213-14). The obvious strength of Levenson’s book is the constant challenge to the well-ingrained belief that Abraham plays a similar role in the orthodox doctrines of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Levenson contends that not only is the understanding of the role played by Abraham dissimilar in many cases, but the modern attempt to build inter-religious dialogue on the basis of flawed academic argument has to be approached with great caution.

The exact nature of the relationship between Christian and Jewish exegesis in late antiquity has been an area of contention. Among the many studies which attempt to investigate that area is the collaborative work of Grypeou and Spurling (2013). The authors discuss two episodes of the Abraham narratives, Abraham and Melchizedek (in ch. 4 of the book) as well as Hagar and Ishmael (in ch. 5), and try to answer the notoriously difficult question: ‘To what extent was there some form of relationship between rabbinic and Christian exegetical ideas during the formative period of the two religions?’ (p. 1). In the context of the Abraham and Melchizedek story, Grypeou and Spurling conclude that there is clear evidence of ‘exegetical encounter’ between the two. But they also admit that ‘the examples of encounter are primarily of a polemical nature, and represent evidence of a vibrant dialectic over controversial issues…; there is evidence of shared use of motifs and methods of argumentation, but the theological conclusions frequently diverge’ (p. 228). The discussion of the Hagar and Ishmael story, as well as Hagar’s provenance linked to the sojourn of Abraham and Sarah in Egypt (Gen. 12.10-20), leads to a similar conclusion.

A major contribution to this continuing debate is Gregg’s (2015) Shared Stories, Rival Tellings. In this beautifully produced and illustrated book, Gregg examines the literary and artistic works of ‘Jewish, Christian, and Muslim meaning-seekers’ related to five biblical and qur’anic stories: Cain and Abel, Sarah and Hagar, Joseph and Potiphar’s Wife, Jonah and the Whale, and Mary the Mother of Jesus (p. xviii). The second part of the book focuses on Sarah and Hagar, and on the role of Abraham (pp. 117-20). Gregg claims that the historical reception of the Abraham narratives provides ‘compelling evidence not only of the three communities’ knowledge of each other’s belief systems and traditions, but also the sharpening social divergence due in significant measure to debate over their scriptures’ messages and meanings’ (p. 220). As the title of the book suggests, Gregg’s point of departure is the realization that the three religions have a common textual heritage. That heritage has nevertheless resulted in very divergent interpretations. This is why Gregg not only warns his readers of the false notion of the ‘familial closeness’ of Jews, Christians, and Muslims, but, on the final pages of the book, he even challenges the conviction that ‘Jews, Christians, and Muslims believe in, and pray to, the same God’ (p. 599).

The reception studies of Genesis 12–25 are diverse both chronologically and thematically. Van Ruiten (2012) skilfully examines the reinterpretation of the ancestral narratives in Jubilees. Böhm’s (2005) focus is on the works of Philo of Alexandria. Von Heijne’s (2010) analysis of the Jewish understanding of the messenger of Yhwh in Genesis is very broad in scope as she looks at texts produced between 200 bce and 650 ce. Good examples of medieval reception studies are Levine’s (2009) work on Nahmanides, which also explores links between medieval commentaries and modern literary studies, and Schroeder’s (2015) translation of the commentaries by Hildegard of Bingen and Andrew of Saint Victor on the Abraham narratives. A volume edited by Steiger and Heinen (2006) brings the discussion to early modern times and elucidates Genesis 22 through the study of its reception in the literary and artistic works of European Christians, whereas a largely unknown literary reception of Sarah and Hagar in the works of nineteenth-century British and American women is presented by Taylor and Weir (2006). Finally, an ambitious task of bringing together Jewish, Christian, and Islamic interpretation is successfully achieved in a volume edited by Goodman, Van Kooten, and Van Ruiten (2010).

Other Detailed Studies

It is not easy to categorize the academic output on the Abraham narratives. Many exegetes and interpreters analyse biblical texts from a variety of methodological perspectives within the confines of the same study. A clear-cut classification of their works is thus impossible. The final section of this review briefly presents books and articles which focus on one chosen chapter, story, or, in some cases, a single verse within Genesis 12–25.

Genesis 12.1-3 is widely regarded as a theological link between the Primeval Story and the ancestor narratives. Grüneberg (2003) provides a detailed philological and literary critique of the attempt to translate Gen. 12.3b as ‘by you all the families of the earth shall bless themselves’. Grüneberg argues for the passive form of the verse, and rejects the reflexive. Although some readers may think the point Grüneberg makes is relatively minor, the correct translation of v. 3b is significant for the understanding of the theological role of Abraham in Jewish and Christian tradition.

The meeting of Abraham and Melchizedek in Gen. 14.18-20 attracts the attention of Granerød (2010), who contends that the Melchizedek episode and the remaining verses of ch. 14 are post-exilic. He argues that Gen. 14.18-20 is the result of the assimilation between Gen. 14.1-17, 21-24 and Ps. 110. Like Granerød, Mathews (2013) is also interested in the composition history of the Melchizedek episode: ‘There is a textually recognizable and demonstrably distinct priestly succession—an order—of Melchizedek that was intended in the composition of the Pentateuch and continued throughout the Tanak… This royal priesthood of Melchizedek is presented as an alternative order to the priesthood of Aaron’ (p. 136). A more recent example of the study of Genesis 14 is Chan’s (2016) Melchizedek Passages in the Bible, where Chan uses discourse-analytical and rhetorical-critical tools to shed light on this interesting pericope.

Known in Jewish tradition as the Covenant between the Pieces, Genesis 15 is ‘the very heart of the Abraham story’ (Westermann 1995: 230). In The Yahwist, Van Seters (2013) enters into debate with Ska (2009) and comments on the genre, dating, and the covenantal theology of Genesis 15: ‘It is an exilic document contemporary with Second Isaiah, expressing the same hopes and concerns as the prophet of that period’ (Van Seters 2013: 232). The following chapter of Genesis, and especially its relationship to the parallel story in Genesis 21, have also been contentious issues. Many solutions have been proposed to explain these two similar episodes. Willi-Plein (2010) argues that Genesis 16 preserves an older tradition, which was then reinterpreted and presented afresh in Genesis 21. While the purpose of Genesis 16 is to resolve the conflict between Sarah and Hagar in favour of the former, Genesis 21 is preoccupied with the conflict between the women’s children and gives precedence to Isaac.

The representation of God in Genesis 18 is the springboard for Hamori’s (2008) study of divine corporeality in biblical and extra-biblical literature. Hamori’s focus is on both Genesis 18 and the Peniel episode recorded in Gen. 32.22-32. She considers Gen. 18.1-15 to be an early text and claims that the biblical anthropomorphic imagery is unique to the Hebrew Bible in some respects. However, to be understood properly, each instance of divine corporeal representation has to be analysed against a wider anthropomorphic spectrum.

The interpretation of the Sodom story in Genesis 19 has been a prominent and controversial topic in biblical scholarship in recent years. The topic is related to the wider and polarising issue of homosexuality and its place in modern society. Carden (2004) interprets Genesis 19 in light of related texts belonging to biblical and pseudepigraphical books. A great deal of attention is given to the comparison between Genesis 19 and Judges 19–21. Carden concludes that Genesis 19 deals primarily with the offence of inhospitality. It is the reception of the narrative by medieval Christian theologians that transformed Genesis 19 into a ‘homophobic’ tale. In a similar manner, Römer and Bonjour (2005) argue that the sin of the Sodomites consists in violent action directed against Lot’s visitors and not in homosexuality. A broad interpretative context for the Sodom story is provided by twelve essays in Universalism and Particularism at Sodom and Gomorrah, edited by Lipton (2012). The essays are organized around three main themes: ‘The Ethics of Preference’, ‘Justice by the Book’, and ‘The Ethics of Hospitality’. Most of the studies in this volume are intertextual and help elucidate the theological richness of Genesis 18 and 19.

The final chapters of the Abraham cycle continue to draw the attention of interpreters. The story of Isaac’s birth and the subsequent expulsion of Hagar and Ishmael in Genesis 21 has been used to illustrate wider hermeneutical issues. Sonek (2009) argues that the oft-perceived incompatibility and mutual exclusiveness of various interpretative approaches, especially diachronic versus synchronic, becomes less of an issue if we remember that those diverse approaches help us understand the cognitive, aesthetic, and practical dimensions of biblical texts. This study offers a synthesis of exegesis, literary theory, and theology.

The Aqedah story in Genesis 22 is scrutinized by most authors presented in this literature review. Moberly (2000) dedicates three chapters of The Bible, Theology, and Faith to the study of Genesis 22, and interprets the pericope mainly through the prism of Christian theology and from a canonical perspective (pp. 71-183). He also identifies the theological message conveyed by the Aqedah story. It is a call to ‘trusting obedience of God’, which effects a change of our existential attitudes. A more recent book on Genesis 22 by Neef (2014) is a short but thorough study of the text. Neef evaluates four decades of scholarship on Genesis 22, and presents his own approach to the text as a literary, linguistic, contextual, and theological reading of its final form. Neef speculates about the dating of the Aqedah (seventh century bce with post-exilic additions), but his most important contribution consists in interpreting the text as a ‘theological narrative’ focused on the themes of testing, divine image, and the necessity to trust in God.

Conclusion

This survey of academic literature exploring the Abraham narratives leads to some preliminary conclusions. There is little doubt that many of the recent commentaries on Genesis carry great weight. It seems, however, that Westermann’s (1994, 1995, 2002) commentary, which was a milestone in the exegesis of the book, remains unchallenged to this day. We are also still waiting for a comprehensive philological commentary on the book, similar to that by Skinner (1910). The publication of the Genesis volume edited by Tal (2015) in the Biblia Hebraica Quinta, which presents the Masoretic notes in full and is annotated with an elaborate critical apparatus, provides an excellent basis for a new philological commentary.

The apparent lack of wide consensus on the historical formation of the Pentateuch, including Genesis 12–25, is a serious issue. It casts some doubt over the credibility of results presented by the proponents of the historical-critical method. In short, we are faced with a number of well-argued, convincing, but contradictory theories. Further collaboration between historical scholars, such as that exemplified by Gertz (2016), may help achieve a much needed consensus.

Synchronic and reception studies are a burgeoning field of biblical exegesis. The healthy tension between traditional theology and critical biblical study will certainly continue in the coming decades, but so will the steady stream of academic works that bring exegesis and theology together, as well as showing the enduring power of biblical texts to influence the generations of readers.

Though all the narratives in Genesis 12–25 have been covered well in the scholarly literature published since 2000, it appears that some of them have received more attention than others. Apart from ch. 12 (especially its opening verses), ch. 15, and ch. 22, which have long been the focus of interpreters, there are at least three other narratives that have attracted deep scrutiny. The narrative of Abraham’s military campaign followed by the Melchizedek episode in ch. 14, the two accounts of Sarah’s power play against Hagar in chs. 16 and 21, and the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah in ch. 19 are investigated by a large number of modern scholars. There are other pericopes in Genesis 12–25 that can and should be explored further, and there is little doubt that this exploration, coming from various methodological angles, will yield interesting results.