
The Abraham story is
wonderfully larger than Abraham. When the prophet
Isaiah (whose “great words,” the Savior declared,
should be searched “diligently” [1] ) addressed those who “seek righteousness,”
he urged them to remember not only their illustrious
forefather but also their equally illustrious foremother:
“Look unto Abraham your father, and unto Sarah that
bare you…. For the LORD shall comfort Zion.” [2]
The story of Abraham
and Sarah is truly the story of Zion, beginning with
two hearts united as one in one of the greatest love
stories on record. It is a story that continues to
this day and of which we are very much a part.
Their names at first
were Abram — the “the father is lifted up” — and Sarai
— “princess.” Whatever connection she may have had
with a ruling earthly dynasty, she was surely a princess
in both appearance and demeanor. Her striking physical
beauty would turn the heads of kings, but her true
beauty, which would only increase through the years,
was that of the soul. She was indeed Abraham’s match,
appointed to be his wife, says Jewish tradition, even
before they were born. And what had been arranged
in heaven came to pass on earth, we are told, because
of the virtuous lives they led growing up. [3]
Of Sarai we hear little
before her marriage to Abram, but their close blood
relationship may well suggest that they were acquainted
with each other early on. We might even surmise that
her faith and prayers had already made a difference
in the severe trials he was called upon to face as
a young man. What we know with certainty is that she
was, as recounted by the first century Jewish scholar
Philo of Alexandria, “the darling of his heart,” and
their love for each other was profound. [4]
Their talents and spiritual
gifts were complementary, with some of hers exceeding
his in important ways. But from the beginning of their
marriage she was ever his ardent support, faithful
friend, and close confidant.
“Everywhere and always,”
wrote Philo, “she was at his side,… his true partner
in life and life’s events, resolved to share alike
the good and the ill.” [5] Theirs was the quality of relationship
enjoyed by the ancient inhabitants of Enoch’s city
of Zion, so named, we are told, “because they were
of one heart and one mind.” [6]
The joint labors of Abraham
and Sarah are legendary. In the Book of Abraham, when
the patriarch is obediently preparing to leave Haran
for a land he has never seen, he mentions that he
and Sarah took with them “the souls that we
had won.” [7] Their cooperative efforts in winning
souls is widely attested in Jewish tradition, which
reports that wherever they settled, they held perpetual
open house, welcoming all in need to partake of physical
and spiritual refreshment. “Abraham our father used
to bring [people] into his house and give them food
and drink and be friendly to them,” offering to teach
God’s truths to all interested. “Abraham used to convert
the men and Sarai the women.” [8]
In a world notorious for its violence and cruelty,
one couple was reaching out in love to bless mankind.
Such efforts brought
a remarkable divine promise that from then on, all
who received the gospel would be accounted Abraham’s
seed. [9]
It seemed a divine vindication of the mothering and
fathering roles that Sarah and Abraham had already
been playing in blessing the needy and bringing souls
to Christ. In this sense Abraham and Sarah were already
the parents of a new and flourishing community of
the righteous, a new Zion in the making.
But the divine promise
went further, foretelling that Abraham would have
literal posterity through whom God would bless all
the nations and families of the world. Nothing could
have brought greater joy to the heart of Abraham and
Sarah, who up to that point had been childless. What
excitement this promise must have elicited, what discussions
it must have prompted, what dreams it must have inspired.
With the highest of hopes, Abraham and Sarah left
Haran to receive the promised blessings of a posterity
that would change the world.
But Sarah continued childless,
while their journey seemed to bring them into one
hardship after another. To their everlasting credit,
the record of those travails speaks of their prayers,
not protests, as they met their difficulties with
deepening patience and faith. One of those trials
was the grievous famine that set in soon after they
had arrived in the promised land. So dire was the
situation that they were forced to go to Egypt, where
crops depended not on rainfall but on the annual flooding
of the Nile.
On the very night before
they were to cross the border, Abraham was divinely
apprised that this journey would expose him to mortal
danger, which would be averted if — and the Lord willed
that it be so — Sarah would say she was Abraham’s
sister. This divine directive is not mentioned in
the Bible, but is found in the Book of Abraham and
one of the Dead Sea Scrolls, which adds that Sarah
wept that night and did not want to go Egypt. It is
a telling detail, showing that she would rather face
the ravages of famine than deny her marriage and the
eternal covenants she had made. Integrity was one
of her hallmarks.
With his wife weeping,
Abraham inquired of the Lord about the necessity of
going to Egypt, only to learn that they must go. How
did Abraham in turn convince Sarah? By patience and
persuasion. All would be right, he reassured her,
if they followed the Lord’s instructions.
But when she was later
forcibly taken by Egyptian soldiers to Pharaoh’s palace,
she faced the greatest dilemma of her life. To obey
the counsel of her husband, she must say that she
was Abraham’s sister, thus hiding the marital relationship.
And to be true to her covenants, she could not let
Pharaoh have his way with her, even though her refusal
would mean certain death.
Abraham had hearkened
to the voice of the Lord. Would she hearken to the
counsel of her husband, even at the sacrifice of her
life? Or would she choose to conveniently relinquish
the hardships and toils of her life to become the
new queen of Egypt with all the dazzling wealth and
fame that this world could offer?
At the peril of her life
she chose to keep her covenants, proving her absolute
loyalty to her husband and God. God responded by sending
an angel to protect her from Pharaoh’s advances and
afflict the king and his court with sore plagues.
The whole incident in Egypt was considered by the
ancients as “a crucial event in the history of mankind,” [10] with
the end result being what is depicted in Facsimile
3 of our Book of Abraham, showing Abraham sitting
by invitation on Pharaoh’s throne.
Returning to the promised
land with the lavish wealth that Pharaoh had bestowed
upon them, Abraham and Sarah resumed their joint ministry
of love. In the words of a modern rabbi, they “were
not just ‘a married couple’ but a team, two people
working in harmony” and “walking together along the
same path, united in thought, word, and deed.” [11] Together
they served, together they obeyed, and together they
believed in the promises of posterity, naturally supposing
that these promises were meant for both of them as
parents.
Until one day Sarah was
overwhelmed with the thought that the promises had
never specifically mentioned her as the mother. So
she, as the legal codes of the day required, brought
to her husband a second wife. The accounts indicate
that she was doing it for Abraham’s sake, but knew
he would not agree unless he thought that she truly
desired it for her own sake — that thereby the offspring
would be hers by adoption. Hence her plea to Abraham,
asking him to do it for her sake. Each sought
first the happiness of the other, with Abraham accepting
her suggestion only after he had received revelation
on the matter.
Sarah’s action in giving
her maid Hagar to Abraham is lauded as one of the
great unselfish acts of her life in ancient sources
and modern revelation. Abraham’s union with Hagar
immediately produced a son, Ishmael. Was this then
the fulfillment of the promises in which Sarah had
for so long believed? Only time would tell.
As
her biological clock continued to tick and she finally
entered menopause, Sarah now saw that the great promises
of Abraham’s posterity would not include her as the
biological mother. Even so, there was no bitterness,
no harsh words as she selflessly gloried in her husband’s
success. She was the personification of charity itself,
which “suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not,
and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not
easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not
in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all
things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth
all things.” [12]
One day when she overheard
what appeared to be a casual comment by an unknown
traveler mention that she would have a son, she silently
chuckled to herself. But the traveler turned out to
be a messenger from the Almighty, sent to bestow a
blessing that would literally change the course of
nature and finally grant to her the great desire of
her heart. “What is it,” the Danish philosopher Soren
Kierkegaard commented on this story, “to be God’s
elect? It is to be denied in youth the wishes of youth,
so as with great pains to get them fulfilled in old
age.” [13]
Sarah’s baby was named
Isaac, from the Hebrew verb “to laugh” or “to rejoice.”
The name was both a reminder of his parents’ inexpressible
joy at the birth of their son, as well as a foreshadowing
of the joy to be brought by Isaac’s descendant Jesus,
similarly to be born by miraculous means.
Sarah’s joy in obtaining
what she had longed for over decades did not diminish
her service to others. She continued to work alongside
her husband to build the kingdom of God and serve
the needy. Together, according to ancient tradition,
they labored tirelessly to welcome “all the lowly
and oppressed, the needy and miserable, the suffering
and the downtrodden.” [14]
Sarah’s lamp was always lit, and she carried
with her the presence of the Spirit in such abundance
as to be manifest to those around her. As remembered
in Jewish sources, Sarah was “without blemish, and
of complete faith,” a veritable “tapestry of perfection”
in “wisdom, in beauty, in innocence, in accomplishment,
in consistency.” [15] Her
nobility is attested even in Muslim tradition by no
less an authority than the learned Al-Tabari. Although
descended from Hagar, he recorded that Sarah “was
one of the best human beings that ever existed.” [16]
But her greatest glory
came not by individual accomplishment but in proving
faithful to something larger than herself, her eternal
companionship with Abraham as they sought to establish
Zion — beginning with their own marriage. Their mutual
selflessness and sacrifice for each other provide
a pattern, for “when both sides of the equation are
reduced,” notes Nibley, “the remainder on both sides
is only a great love.” [17]
No wonder that at her
passing Abraham wept, joined in sorrow by vast multitudes
who came from far and wide to pay their grateful respects
to this godly woman who had been like a mother to
them. She was gone, but the love of Abraham and Sarah
was too strong to be broken by death. The great latter-day
revelation about eternal life holds up both Abraham
and Sarah as the type of the exalted couple who enjoy
continuing and eternal increase as vast as the stars
of heaven. Here on earth, their posterity also continues
to increase as the sands of the seashore. As part
of that posterity, Latter-day Saints are commanded
to emulate their example and thereby qualify to join
them as forever families in the presence of God. We
are and forever will be part of their continuing story.