After these things the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision: “Fear not, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.” 2 But Abram said, “O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?” 3 And Abram said, “Behold, you have given me no offspring, and a member of my household will be my heir.” 4 And behold, the word of the Lord came to him: “This man shall not be your heir; your very own son shall be your heir.” 5 And he brought him outside and said, “Look toward heaven, and number the stars, if you are able to number them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your offspring be.” 6 And he believed the Lord, and he counted it to him as righteousness. 7 And he said to him, “I am the Lord who brought you out from Ur of the Chaldeans to give you this land to possess.” 8 But he said, “O Lord God, how am I to know that I shall possess it?” 9 He said to him, “Bring me a heifer three years old, a female goat three years old, a ram three years old, a turtledove, and a young pigeon.” 10 And he brought him all these, cut them in half, and laid each half over against the other. But he did not cut the birds in half. 11 And when birds of prey came down on the carcasses, Abram drove them away. . .17 When the sun had gone down and it was dark, behold, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces. 18 On that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, “To your offspring I give this land . . .”
Here we have the beginning of religion as we know it, the institution of ritual, and the concept of shedding blood in ratification of covenant with God. Here is the beginning of the mystery of our faith. This mysterious service of worship comes at a definitive moment in the narrative, after Abram is promised the land, but before he is to receive it. What happened when the sun went down was a kind of guarantee on the promise.
The psychology of this dark and mysterious encounter suggests that there is within us an inherent need for outward signs and symbols and tangible things which help us to control our anxieties and relieve our fears. The promise of the land to come, off in the distant future, is accompanied by elements which can be immediately touched. This is necessary for Abram and the text seems to accept it without judgment.
But interestingly, before this mysterious ratification of the promise of the land, there was another promise -- the promise of the progeny. For this promise, we are told Abram needed no ratification; he simply "believed and it was accounted unto him as righteousness." In other words, he believed and he therefore had no need for blood covenant to be made.
What are we to make of this? There is something primordially like Abram in each of us -- something which needs symbols and ritual to help relieve our anxieties about an uncertain future -- especially uncertainty about our children's future. The things we do at altars -- lighting candles, drinking elements, kneeling in prayer -- perform this function for us. This is the religious role of ritual -- tangible acts which serve as signs of God's promise.
But these signs are signs for us -- not for God. The shedding of blood at the altar was a sign for Abram, not for God. The promise of land had been made by God and all Abram really had to do was believe it as he had believed the promise of progeny. What was given to Abram in that night service of worship was a gift and a provision to help the believer in his unbelief.
The promise is there -- for us and our children. In the end we shall all enter the promised land. "And all things shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well." It is enough for us to believe it.
But in order to allay our anxiety and fear in the meantime, God gives us signs and promises at the altar -- a testament to the veracity that God's promises are true in our sure belief, in our uncertain doubt, and everywhere in between.
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