Lecture I : The Call of Abraham (part 1)

by Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, D.D.         

   The Patriarchal Age is not in itself the beginning      
of the history of the Jewish Church or nation.  That,      
as we shall see, has its origin from Moses.  But the        
more primitive period is the necessary prelude of that     
history, because it contains the earliest distinct begin-      
nings of the Jewish religion and of the Jewish race.          
It is in this sense that the first event in this period          
may fitly be treated as the opening of all Ecclesias-      
tical History, as the first historical commencement of     
a religious community and worship, which has contin-        
ued ever since, without interruption, into the Chris-      
tian Church, such as, with all its manifold diversities,      
it now exists.  This event, according as it is appre-       
hended from its human or its Divine side, may be        
described as "the Migration," or as "the Call" of       
Abraham.  In every crisis of history these two ele-      
ments in their measure may be perceived, the one      
secular, the other religious; the one belonging merely      
to the past, the other reaching forward into the re-     
motest future.  In this instance, both are set dis-         
tinctly before us in the Biblical narrative, side by      
side, as if in almost unconscious independence of each      
other.  "And Terah took Abram his son, and Lot the son       
of Haran his son's son, and Sarai his daughter-in-law,      
his son Abram's wife; and they went forth with them         
[LXX. "he led them"] from Ur of the Chaldees, to           
go into the land of Canaan: and they came unto Haran,      
and dwelt there . . .  And Abram took Sarai his         
wife and Lot his brother's son, and all their substance      
that they had gathered, and the souls that they had gotten        
[the slaves that they had bought] in Haran; and they      
went forth to go into the land of Canaan; and into the       
land of Canaan they came."  This is the external as-       
pect of the Migration.  A family, a tribe of the great       
Semitic race, moves westward from the cradle of its      
earliest civilization.  There was nothing outwardly to        
distinguish them from those who had descended from        
former times, or who would do so in times yet to      
come.  There was, however, another aspect which the       
surrounding tribes saw not, but which is the only         
point that we now see distinctly.  "The Lord 'said'       
unto Abraham, Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kin-     
dred and from thy father's house, unto a land that I will      
show thee: and I will make of thee a great nation, and      
I will bless thee, and make thy name great; and thou       
shalt be a blessing: and I will bless them that bless thee,      
and curse them that curseth thee: and in thee shall all the     
families of the earth be blessed."  Interpret these words     
as we will; give them a meaning more or less literal,      
more or less restricted; yet with what a force do they           
break in upon the homeliness of the rest of the nar-        
rative: what an impulse do they disclose in the inner-      
most heart of the movement: what a long vista do      
they open, even to the very close of the history, of      
which this was the first beginning!          
   Let us then follow the example of the sacred narra-     
tive by drawing out both these views of the event.         
Take, first, its outward character as a national or mi-      
gratory movement.            
   I.  The name of Abraham, as we shall afterwards see      
more fully, is not confined to the Sacred His-       
tory.  Over and above the Book of Genesis,      
there are two main sources of information.  We have        
the fragments preserved to us by Josephus and Eusebius     
from Greek or Asiatic writers.  We have also the Jew-       
ish or Mussulman traditions, as represented chiefly in         
the Talmud and the Koran.  It is the former class         
— those presented to us by the Pagan historians — that        
the migration of Abraham assumes its most purely secu-      
lar aspect.  They describe him as a great man of the     
East, well read in the stars, or as a conquering Prince      
who swept all before him on his way to Palestine.        
These characteristics, remote as they are from our com-     
mon view, have nevertheless their point of contact with       
the Biblical account, which, simple as it is, implies more    
than it states.              
   In the darkness of this distant past, the most distinct     
images we can now hope to recall are those of           
the place and scene of the event.  Where was     
"Ur of the Chaldees?"  It would seem at first sight        
as if this, the most solid footing on which we could rely,         
shifted beneath our feet so rapidly as to deprive us of    
any standing ground whatever.  The name itself of       
"Chasdim" or "Chaldæa" has, in the progress of centu-      
ries, descended like a landslip from the northern Arme-         
nian mountains, to which it originally belonged, into the     
southern limits of Mesopotamia, which claimed it in    
after-times.  This is the first source of confusion.  Is it      
the northern or southern, the ancient or the more recent     
Chaldæa, of which we are speaking?  But, besides this,      
the name of Ur also seems to have been sown broadcast          
over the whole region.  One is pointed out near Nisi-        
bis, another near Nineveh; a third and fourth have        
lately been found in the neighborhood of Babylon.  It        
is perhaps the most probable solution that the name       
originally meant (as the Septuagint translators have ren-       
dered it) a country rather than a place.  But no argu-      
ment advanced, even by the high authority of recent       
discoverers, seem as yet sufficiently established to dis-     
turb the old and general tradition which fixes the chief     
centre of the early movements of the tribe of Abraham         
at the place variously known as Orfa, Roha, Orchoe,         
Callirhoe, Chaldæopolis, Edessa, Antioch of the far East,       
Erech, Ur; and, were it more in doubt than it is, the      
singular ecclesiastical position occupied by this city of     
many names calls for a few words in passing.              
   In Christian times, it was celebrated as the capital of      
Abgarus, Agbarus, or Akbar, who received,      
according to the ancient tradition, the letter and por-      
trait of our Saviour, and thus became the first Christian     
king.  Gradually it was invested with a sacred preëmi-     
nence, as the cradle, the university, the metropolis of      
the Christianity of the remote East.  Within its walls     
lived and died and is buried the chief saint of the Syrian     
Church, Ephrem, Deacon of Edessa.  In its neighbor-     
hood, in strange conformity with its earliest history     
wandered a race of hermits, not monastic or cœnobitic,     
but nomadic and pastoral, who took to the desert life,     
and almost literally grazed like sheep on the desert     
herbage.  In later times, yet again, it became the seat     
of a Christian principality under the chiefs of the First      
Crusade.  But whilst these later glories of Edessa are      
gathered from books, the stories of Abraham alone still     
live in the mouths of the Arab inhabitants of Orfa,      
and in the peculiarities of its remarkable situation.      
The city lies on the edge of one of the bare, rugged     
spurs which descend from the mountains of Armenia     
into the Assyrian plains, in the cultivated land which,        
as lying under those mountains, is called Padan-Aram.      
Two physical features must have secured it, from the       
earliest times, as a nucleus for the civilization of those     
regions.  One is a high crested crag, the natural for-      
tification of the present citadel, doubly defended by a      
trench of immense depth, cut out of the living rock       
behind it.  The other is an abundant spring, issuing       
in a pool of transparent clearness, and embossed in     
a mass of luxuriant verdure, which, amidst the dull     
brown desert all around, makes, and must always have     
made, this spot an oasis, a paradise, in the Chaldæan     
wilderness.  Round this sacred pool, "The Beautiful     
Spring," "Callirhoe," as it was called by the Greek     
writers, gather the modern traditions of the Patriarch.      
Hard by, amidst its cypresses, is the mosque on the      
spot where he is said to have offered his first prayer:         
the cool spring itself burst forth in the midst of     
the fiery furnace which the infidels had kindled to        
burn him; its sacred fish, swarming by thousands and    
thousands, from their long-continued preservation, are         
cherished by the faithful as under his special patron-      
age; the two Corinthian columns which stand on the      
crag above are made to commemorate his deliverance.       
In the first centuries of the Christian era we know     
that other memorials of the Patriarchal age were        
pointed out.  The year of Abraham was long adopted       
in Edessa as the epoch of its dates.  Josephus speaks         
of the sepulchre of Haran, still shown in his time at         
Ur; Eusebius speaks of the tent which Jacob inhab-      
ited whilst feeding the flocks of Laban, as preserved      
till it was accidentally burnt by lightning in the         
second century.  But, apart from all such transitory     
and doubtful reminiscences as these, we may well be-          
lieve that the high rock, the clear spring, the burst       
of verdure, must have as truly made this (such      
might be a possible interpretation of the name) "the     
light of the race of Arphaxad" (Ur Chasdim), as the     
like circumstances made Damascus "the eye of the         
East;" and amongst the countless sepulchres which          
fill the rocky hill behind the city, some may reach     
back to the earliest times of human habitation and    
interment.            
   From this spot, invested with a tender attractiveness      
from which even the passing traveller reluctantly     
tears himself away, we may believe that the family       
of Abraham were called.  Was it, as according to "Jose-     
phus," the grief of Terah over the untimely death    
of Haran?  Was it, as according to the tradition fol-      
lowed by Stephen, that the higher call had already     
been made to Abraham?  We know not.  We are      
told only that they went southward: they went upon      
the track which Chaldæans, and Medes, and Persians,      
and Kurds, and Tartars, afterwards in long succession          
followed, as if towards the rich plains of Nineveh or     
of Babylon.        
   One day's journey from Ur, if Orfa be Ur, was the     
spot which they chose for their encampment       
— Harran, Charran, Carrhæ.  That it was a place of     
note may be gathered from its long-continued name     
and fame in later days.  As the sanctuary of the     
Moon goddess, it was, far into the Roman Empire,        
regarded as the centre of Eastern Paganism, its rivalry     
to Edessa, the center of Eastern Christendom.  It     
was the scene, too, of the memorable defeat of Cras-     
sus.  But no modern traveller, up to the present time,     
has left a written account of this world-old place.       
There is hardly anything to tell us why it was fixed      
upon either as the scene of that fierce conflict, or as      
the scene of the Patriarchal settlement.  Only we       
observe that it is the point of divergence between     
the great caravan routes towards the various fords of       
the Euphrates on the one hand, and the Tigris on the      
other; and therefore must have had some marked        
features to make it a fitting encampment both for         
Roman general and Chaldæan Patriarch.  Beside the        
settlement, too, were the wells, round which for the      
next generation one large portion of the tribe of     
Terah continued to linger; and the settlers in the        
distant west are described as still retaining their affec-       
tion for the ancient sanctuary, where the father of         
their race was buried, and whence they sought, ac-      
cording to the true Arabian usage, their own kins-     
women and cousins in marriage.          
   But for the highest spirit of the Patriarchal family       
Haran could not be a permanent resting-place.        
"The great river," "the river," as his de-      
scendants called it, the river Euphrates, rolled its vast      
boundaries of water between him and the remote coun-      
try to which his steps were bent.  Two days' journey     
brought him to the high chalk cliffs which overlook        
the wide western desert.  Broad and strong lay the       
great stream beneath and between.  He crossed over     
it, probably near the same point where it is still       
forded.  He crossed it, and became (such at least       
was one interpretation always put upon the word)        
Abraham, "the Hebrew," the man who had crossed the      
river flood — the man who came from beyond the Eu-    
phrates.          
   For seven days' journey or more, the caravan would     
advance along what is still the main desert     
road to Syria.  Nothing is said in history of their          
route.  It is but an etymological legend which con-     
nects Aleppo with the herds of the Patriarch's pas-          
toral tribe.  They neared the range of the Lebanon    
which screened the Holy Land from their view; and     
underneath its shade they rested, for the last time, in    
Damascus.  It is curious that whilst the connection     
of Abraham with the most ancient of cities is almost           
entirely derived from extraneous sources, it is yet     
sufficiently confirmed by the sacred narrative to be     
worthy of credit.  "Abraham," we are told, "was king     
of Damascus."  He had crossed the desert with his      
tribe, as not many years afterwards came Chedorlao-     
mer and the kings of the East; and, as they descended      
on the green oasis of Siddim, so this earlier conqueror     
established himself in the green oasis of Damascus, the     
likeness, on a larger scale, of his own native Ur.  In      
later ages his name was still honored in the region;        
and a spot pointed out as "Abraham's dwelling-place."       
And in the primitive play on the name of Abraham's       
faithful slave, preserved in the sacred record, we have     
a guaranty of the close tie which subsisted between         
the patriarch and his earliest conquest.  "Eliezer of     
Damascus" was the lasting trophy of his victory.              
   As we pause at the last halting-place before his    
entrance into Palestine, let us look more fully in the    
face the great character that we have brought thus     
far on his way.       
   Not many years ago much offence was given    
by one, now a high dignitary in the English     
Church, who ventured to suggest the original      
likeness of Abraham, by calling him a Bedouin Sheik.         
It is one advantage flowing from the multiplication of      
Eastern travels that such offence could now no longer be        
taken.  Every English pilgrim to the Holy Land, even the      
most reverential and most fastidious, is delighted to       
trace and to record the likeness of patriarchal manners    
and costumes in the Arabian chiefs.  To refuse to do so       
would be to decline the use of what we may almost call a       
singular gift of Providence.  The unchanged habits of the      
East render it in this respect a kind of living Pompeii.           
The outward appearances, which in the case of the       
Greeks and Romans we know only through art and       
writing, through marble, fresco, and parchment, in the      
case of Jewish history we know through the forms      
of actual men, living and moving before us, wearing     
almost the same garb, speaking in almost the same        
language, and certainly with the same general turns     
of speech and tone and manners.  Such as we see     
them now, starting on a pilgrimage or a journey      
were Abraham and his sister's son, when they "went        
forth" to go into the land of Canaan.  "All their      
substance that they had gathered" is heaped high        
on the backs of their kneeling camels.  The "slaves         
that they had bought in Haran" run along by their      
sides.  Round about them are their flocks of sheep     
and goats, and the asses moving underneath the tow-         
ering forms of the camels.  The chief is there, amidst       
the stir of movement, or resting at noon within his        
black tent, marked out from the rest by his cloak of      
brilliant scarlet, by the fillet of rope which binds the      
loose handkerchief round his head, by the spear which     
he holds in his hand to guide the march, and to fix     
the encampment.  The chief's wife, the princess of     
the tribe, is there in her own tent, to make the     
cakes, and prepare the usual meal of milk and but-     
ter; the slave or the child is ready to bring in the     
red lentil soup for the weary hunter, or to kill the       
calf for the unexpected guest.  Even the ordinary     
social state is the same: polygamy, slavery, the ex-      
clusiveness of family ties; the period of service for       
the dowry of a wife; the solemn obligations of hospi-    
tality; the temptations, easily followed, into craft or        
falsehood.        
   In every aspect, except that which most concerns     
us, the likeness is complete between the Bedouin    
chief of the present day, and the Bedouin chief who      
came from Chaldæa nearly four thousand years ago.  In      
every aspect but one; and that one contrast is set off in     
the highest degree by the resemblance of all besides.         
The more we see the outward conformity of Abraham    
and his immediate descendants to the godless, grasping,     
foul-mouthed Arabs of the modern desert, nay even     
their fellowship in the infirmities of their common    
state and country, the more we shall recognize the         
force of the religious faith, which has raised them     
from that low estate to be the heroes and saints of     
their people, the spiritual fathers of European religion      
and civilization.  The hands are the hands of the Bed-     
ouin Esau; but the voice is the voice of Abraham,     
Isaac, and Jacob, — the voice which still makes itself       
heard across deserts and continents and seas; heard      
wherever there is a conscience to listen, or an imag-     
ination to be pleased, or a sense of reverence left     
amongst mankind.       

from The History of the Jewish Church, Vol. I : Abraham to Samuel,
Lecture I: The Call of Abraham
by Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, D.D., Dean of Westminster
Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1879, pp. 3-13