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Hagar Had Seen Every Miracle and Still Chose Contempt

Hagar had watched Pharaoh's plague and the furnace miracle before she ever conceived. Her contempt came from drawing the wrong lesson from what she knew.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. What She Carried Into Abraham's House
  2. The Verdict She Whispered to Visitors
  3. Sarah's Complaint and Abraham's Answer
  4. The Angel at the Spring

What She Carried Into Abraham's House

By the time Hagar became pregnant, she had already seen more than most people see in a lifetime. She had watched plagues descend on her father's palace because of Sarah. She had left Egypt as the daughter of the king who feared this household enough to place his own child inside it. She had lived alongside Abraham and Sarah for years in Canaan, watching a family maintain its faith through famine, exile, and the decade-long silence of a promised child that had not come. She was not a naive girl who stumbled into a miracle-working household by accident.

This is what makes the Ginzberg tradition's account of what she did after conceiving so cutting. She had more information than almost anyone. She had seen what this household was. She used her pregnancy to settle a score anyway.

The Verdict She Whispered to Visitors

The moment she felt the child quicken, she began treating Sarah with contempt. Not openly at first. The sources describe the mechanics with precision. When noble women came to visit Sarah, Sarah would encourage them to stop by and see Hagar too. The women would go. And Hagar would talk about her mistress to those visitors.

My lady Sarah, she would say, is not inwardly what she appears. She makes the impression of a pious woman, but she is not truly righteous. If she were righteous, how could she have remained childless for so many years while I, who came to this household recently, conceived at once?

The tradition reads this carefully. Hagar is not making a theological argument. She is using the appearance of evidence to damage a woman who had acted toward her without jealousy. Sarah had offered Hagar to Abraham as a precise, legal, unsentimental act of trust in the household's future. Hagar's response was to reframe the years of Sarah's childlessness as proof of Sarah's inferior standing before God.

Sarah's Complaint and Abraham's Answer

Sarah brought the grievance to Abraham directly. The Book of Jubilees, written in the second century BCE, captures the scene in a single sentence: Sarah pressed Abraham to adjudicate between them. Abraham told her that Hagar was in her hand to do with as she saw fit. He placed the matter back where it belonged.

Sarah's response was firm. She afflicted Hagar. The Torah says this plainly (Genesis 16:6). The midrashic tradition adds texture: Sarah imposed harder domestic duties, insisted on the forms of service, and refused to pretend the hierarchy had changed because of a pregnancy. Hagar fled into the wilderness.

The Angel at the Spring

An angel found her at a spring on the road to Shur. He called her by name. He asked where she was going. She said she was fleeing from Sarah. He told her to return and submit to her mistress, and he told her what the child she was carrying would become: a wild man, his hand against everyone, everyone's hand against him, but alive, and the father of a great nation.

She returned. The tradition does not say she was happy about it. But she returned, and the child was born in Abraham's house, and Abraham named him Ishmael, meaning God has heard -- because in the wilderness, at the spring, God had heard the cry of a woman in flight from the consequences of her own contempt.


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The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Legends of the Jews 5:128Legends of the Jews

The story of Hagar and Sarah is a potent reminder. We find it woven throughout the book of Genesis, and expanded upon in fascinating ways by the Rabbis in the Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary), those incredible collections of stories that fill in the gaps and illuminate the nuances of the biblical text. And nowhere is it more gripping than in Louis Ginzberg's retelling in Legends of the Jews.

Sarah, barren for years, offers her maidservant Hagar to Abraham, hoping to build a family through her. It's a heartbreaking act of selflessness, born of desperation and faith. And it works. Hagar conceives.

Almost immediately, everything shifts.

No sooner had Hagar's union with Abraham been consummated, and she felt that she was with child, than she began to treat her former mistress contemptuously, even though Sarah was particularly tender toward her in her pregnancy.

Can you imagine the sting? The betrayal? Sarah, who had opened her home and her husband to Hagar, now faces scorn from the very woman she tried to help. It’s a painful reminder that even good intentions can pave the way to unexpected heartache.

Sarah, ever the gracious hostess, continued to receive noble matrons and encourage them to visit "poor Hagar," too. But Hagar, fueled by pride and perhaps a touch of insecurity, used these visits as an opportunity to tear Sarah down.

"My lady Sarah," she would say, "is not inwardly what she appears to be outwardly. She makes the impression of a righteous, pious woman, but she is not, for if she were, how could her childlessness be explained after so many years of marriage, while I became pregnant at once?"

Ouch.

As we find in Legends of the Jews, Hagar essentially questions Sarah's righteousness, using her own quick conception as proof of superiority. It’s a cruel and cutting jab, highlighting the societal pressures and assumptions placed upon women, particularly regarding fertility. It's a theme explored extensively in Jewish tradition.

What does this tell us? Well, for one, it’s a stark warning about the dangers of arrogance and the corrosive power of jealousy. Hagar's initial gratitude quickly morphed into something far less noble.

But perhaps more profoundly, it speaks to the complexities of human relationships and the delicate balance of power. Sarah, despite her pain, tries to maintain appearances, while Hagar, emboldened by her pregnancy, exploits the situation. It's a messy, human drama, filled with flaws and vulnerabilities.

The story of Hagar and Sarah reminds us that even within the most sacred narratives, there are moments of profound human failing. And perhaps, it’s in those moments that we can truly see ourselves reflected, confronting our own imperfections and striving to do better. What can we learn from their mistakes? What can we do to emulate Sarah's compassion, even in the face of betrayal? These are the questions that linger long after the story ends.

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Legends of the Jews 5:98Legends of the Jews

Sarah, wife of Abraham, certainly did when they journeyed to Egypt. to a fascinating episode from Legends of the Jews that shows just how powerfully things can turn around.

Sarah, a woman of incredible beauty, finds herself in the court of Pharaoh. Abraham, fearing for his life because of her loveliness, introduces her as his sister. It's a precarious situation, ripe with potential danger. But then, wouldn't you know it, an angel appears!

This wasn’t your everyday, run-of-the-mill angel sighting. This angel appears specifically to Sarah, unseen by the king himself. The angel delivers a message of hope, a divine reassurance: "Fear naught, Sarah, for God hath heard thy prayer." According to Ginzberg's retelling in Legends of the Jews, this celestial visit brought courage and a sense of divine protection.

Pharaoh, captivated by Sarah, questions her about Abraham. She maintains the ruse, calling Abraham her brother. And here's where the story takes an unexpected turn. Instead of harm, Pharaoh showers Abraham with gifts! Gold, silver, diamonds, pearls, livestock, servants… you name it, Abraham received it. He was even given a residence within the royal palace.

But the most extraordinary part? Pharaoh, deeply enamored with Sarah, draws up a marriage contract. He deeds to her all his wealth: gold, silver, slaves, and even the province of Goshen. Goshen, remember, is the very same land that would later become the home of Sarah’s descendants. As Legends of the Jews points out, it was rightfully theirs.

And hold on, there's more. As if giving away half his kingdom wasn't enough, Pharaoh gives Sarah his own daughter, Hagar, as a handmaiden! for a second. He would rather see his daughter as Sarah's servant than as a queen in another man's palace. That’s some serious respect, born of both fear and admiration.

Why Hagar? Well, later on, Hagar becomes a key figure in the story of Abraham’s family. The Midrash Rabbah fills in some gaps, explaining the reasoning behind such an extraordinary gift. Pharaoh recognized Sarah’s special status, her connection to the divine, and wanted his daughter to benefit from being in her service. It's a evidence of Sarah's character and the divine favor she carried.

So, what does this all mean? It's more than just a captivating story from Legends of the Jews. It's a reminder that even in the most challenging circumstances, hope can appear in unexpected forms. Divine intervention, protection, and even the reversal of fortune are all possible. And sometimes, the greatest treasures come in the most surprising packages, even as a king's daughter serving as a handmaiden. What challenges are you facing where you might need an angel to whisper, "Fear naught"?

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Book of Jubilees 17:10Book of Jubilees

Book of Jubilees turns to Abraham Torn Between Sarah and Hagar.

It all centers around Sarah, Abraham’s beloved wife, and Hagar, her handmaid. Sarah, in her older years, had been unable to conceive, so she offered Hagar to Abraham, according to the customs of the time, so he might have an heir. And, Hagar bore him a son, Ishmael.

Years later, a miracle had occurred: Sarah herself had conceived and given birth to Isaac. This changed everything.

The text from the Book of Jubilees 17 captures the ensuing tension. Sarah, understandably concerned about the inheritance and the future lineage, demands of Abraham: "Cast out this bondwoman and her son; for the son of this bondwoman will not be heir with my son, Isaac."

Can you imagine the pain in Abraham’s heart? As Jubilees tells us, "And the thing was grievous in Abraham's sight, because of his maidservant and because of his son, that he should drive them from him." He loved Ishmael. He had watched him grow, taught him, and cherished him as a son.

What does he do? He turns to God.

And God, in turn, responds with a divine decree, a mixture of reassurance and instruction: "Let it not be grievous in thy sight, because of the child and because of the bondwoman; in all that Sarah hath said unto thee, hearken to her words and do (them); for in Isaac shall thy name and seed be called."

A heavy burden,. The future, the covenant, the very destiny of Abraham's lineage rested on Isaac.

But God, in His infinite compassion, doesn't leave Ishmael without hope. The text continues, "But as for the son of this bondwoman I will make him a great nation, because he is of thy seed." God acknowledges Ishmael’s lineage, promising him greatness despite the shift in the patriarchal line. It's a evidence of God's expansive grace and His ability to see value and potential in all of His creations.

This passage from Jubilees, though brief, offers profound insights into the complexities of family, faith, and divine will. It reminds us that even in the midst of difficult choices, compassion and promise can coexist. And perhaps, most importantly, it illustrates that even when one path is chosen, others are not necessarily forsaken.

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Legends of the Jews 5:127Legends of the Jews

Abraham knew that feeling well. Before he was Avraham Avinu, our father Abraham, before the brit bein ha-betarim, the covenant of the pieces, he was just a man with a promise and a problem: no children.

The story goes that this momentous covenant, where God revealed the future of Abraham's descendants, happened when Abraham and Sarah were still childless. It's a powerful scene, full of symbolism and divine weight. But before all that, there was just a couple confronting infertility and trying to understand God's plan.

In Legends of the Jews, Ginzberg retells a fascinating detail: Abraham and Sarah believed their inability to conceive was linked to their location. They thought living outside the Holy Land was somehow holding them back, a sort of divine consequence for not being in the place God intended.

That pressure! You're already dealing with the emotional toll of childlessness, and now you're wondering if your geographical location is the problem. It's like blaming your tools instead of your skill, but with cosmic implications.

They waited ten years in Palestine, but still no child. That's when Sarah, in a moment of incredible selflessness, realized the "fault," as Ginzberg puts it, lay with her. And here's where the story gets really interesting. Sarah didn't succumb to jealousy or resentment. Instead, she offered her slave, Hagar, to Abraham as a wife.

But there's a crucial detail that often gets overlooked. Hagar wasn't just handed over. Sarah first freed her. As the text points out, Hagar was Sarah's property, not Abraham's. This act of freeing her is so important. It speaks volumes about Sarah's character and her commitment to righteousness.

And Pharaoh was Hagar’s father! What a story.

Think about the implications! Sarah took responsibility, and created a chance for Abraham to continue his lineage. She took Hagar, instructed her, and walked with her on the path of righteousness to be a suitable companion for Abraham.

The narrative continues by explaining that Abraham, guided by the ruach (spirit) hakodesh, the holy spirit, accepted Sarah's proposal. This wasn't just a pragmatic decision. It was a divinely guided one.

What does this all tell us? It's a reminder that faith isn't passive. It's about active participation, even when it's painful. It's about making difficult choices, trusting in God's plan, and sometimes, taking matters into our own hands, with the purest of intentions, of course. Sometimes the biggest blessings come from the most unexpected places, and through the most unconventional means. It makes you wonder what blessings might be waiting for us, hidden in plain sight, just waiting for us to act with the same faith and courage as Sarah and Abraham.

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Book of Jubilees 17:25Book of Jubilees

Jubilees, considered scripture by some and an important historical text by others, paints a picture of Abraham's unwavering faith in the face of, let’s just say, a lot of challenges.

The verse reads, "And the Lord knew that Abraham was faithful in all his afflictions; for He had tried him through his country and with famine.." for a second. Leaving your homeland, facing starvation. not exactly a walk in the park. It would be difficult to remain faithful, wouldn't it?

That was just the beginning. The Book of Jubilees continues, "..and had tried him with the wealth of kings, and had tried him again through his wife, when she was torn (from him).." So, Abraham experienced both poverty and riches. And then there's the incredibly difficult episode where his wife, Sarah, was taken from him. It's almost too much for one person to bear.

The trials didn't stop there. "..and with circumcision, and had tried him through Ishmael and Hagar, his maid-servant, when he sent them away." Circumcision, or brit milah in Hebrew, is a powerful covenant. But imagine undergoing that as an adult! And then, the painful decision to send away Hagar and Ishmael. a decision that surely weighed heavily on Abraham's heart.

The writer of Jubilees emphasizes that Abraham was tested in everything. "And in everything wherein He had tried him, he was found faithful.." It's not just about one big test, but a constant series of smaller ones that collectively defined his character.

What's truly striking is the description of Abraham's inner state: "..and his soul was not impatient, and he was not slow to act; for he was faithful and a lover of the Lord." He wasn't perfect, surely. But he wasn't driven to despair or inaction. He was faithful and, crucially, he loved God. That love, it seems, was the engine that kept him going.

So, what can we take away from this glimpse into Abraham's life? Maybe it's this: faithfulness isn't about avoiding hardship. It's about how we respond to it. It's about maintaining our love and devotion even when life throws everything it has at us. And maybe, just maybe, it's in those trials that we truly discover who we are.

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Legends of the Jews 5:130Legends of the Jews

Legends of the Jews turns to Abraham and the Patriarchs of Hagar.

Abraham, known for his humility, gave Sarah the authority to deal with Hagar as she saw fit. However, he did offer one crucial piece of advice: "Having once made her a mistress, we cannot again reduce her to the state of a bondwoman." A warning, perhaps, tinged with understanding of the complexities of human relationships.

Sarah, in her pain and perhaps her own sense of justice, disregarded this warning. She demanded the duties of a slave from Hagar, and, according to some accounts, even tormented her. Legend says she cast an ayin hara, an evil eye, upon her. The result? Hagar miscarried and fled into the wilderness. Imagine the desperation, the fear, the utter loneliness of that moment.

Here's where the story takes a turn toward the miraculous. As Hagar fled, she was met by angels. Not just one, but several! They commanded her to return to Abraham's household. Why? Because she was destined to bear a son, a son who would be named Ishmael by God Himself, before he was even born! Names in our tradition carry immense power. They define us, connect us to our heritage, and sometimes, as in this case, they are divinely ordained. As we find in Legends of the Jews by Louis Ginzberg, Ishmael is listed among six men whose names were given by God before their birth.

Who are the others who share this unique distinction? Isaac, son of Abraham and Sarah; Moses, the great lawgiver; Solomon, the wise king; Josiah, the righteous ruler; and, of course, the Messiah. That's quite a list to be on, isn’t it? A list marked by divine favor and destiny.

What does this tell us? Perhaps it’s about the importance of names, of acknowledging the power that words. And divine intention, hold in shaping our lives. It's a reminder that even in moments of hardship and despair, like Hagar’s flight into the desert, there can be a divine plan unfolding. And sometimes, that plan includes a name whispered from the heavens.

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