4 min read

Sarah in the Palace of Abimelech at Gerar

Abimelech took Sarah the same way Pharaoh had, but the story ended differently. The difference was a raised sword in a dream and the fear of God.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Pattern Repeating at Gerar
  2. Why Abraham Repeated the Strategy
  3. The Fear Pharaoh Never Had
  4. Abraham's Explanation

The Pattern Repeating at Gerar

Sarah had been taken into a royal palace before. In Egypt, Pharaoh had swept her in on the force of her beauty and suffered for it through a night of plagues, an angel striking him each time he reached for her. She had walked out of that house laden with gifts, with Hagar among them, and carrying the lesson that beauty in a foreign country was a form of danger.

Now she was in Gerar, in the land of the Philistines, and the pattern was repeating.

Why Abraham Repeated the Strategy

The Ginzberg tradition explains why Abraham used the same approach he had used in Egypt. After the destruction of Sodom, the roads through the southern plain had emptied. Traffic had stopped. Abraham's household depended on wayfarers and the hospitality he extended to them, and the silence of a region from which travelers had been scared away felt like a vacuum. He moved to Gerar. Before entering the Philistine territory, he and Sarah agreed again: she would say he was her brother.

King Abimelech heard about Sarah's beauty and had her brought to his palace. That evening, before he could approach her, he fell into a sleep, and in the sleep a dream came. An angel stood before him with a raised sword. The angel said: you are a dead man for the woman you have taken, for she is a man's wife.

The Fear Pharaoh Never Had

Abimelech woke in terror. He gathered his servants and told them the dream. They were afraid too. He called Abraham and demanded: what have you done to us? What sin did you see in us that you brought this on my kingdom?

The Ginzberg tradition draws the comparison to Egypt explicitly. Pharaoh had given Sarah gifts and deeded her Goshen, but the motivation had been to purchase forgiveness after he understood what he had done. Abimelech's motivation was different from the first moment. He gave Abraham sheep, oxen, servants, and a thousand pieces of silver. He gave Sarah a costly robe designed to cover her entirely, to protect her from attention as she traveled. He asked Abraham to pray for him and for his household, because when Abraham had entered the territory, God had stopped every womb in the kingdom -- every woman in Abimelech's palace had become unable to conceive.

This was a king who had acted in good faith and been struck anyway. The tradition treats this distinction seriously. Pharaoh had simply wanted what he wanted. Abimelech had been told the truth by an angel in a dream before he acted, and he had obeyed. The two palace episodes are parallel in structure but opposite in texture. Pharaoh was struck because he refused to see what was in front of him. Abimelech was struck, then restored, because he feared God.

Abraham's Explanation

Abraham told Abimelech the reasoning: he had said to himself, surely there is no fear of God in this place, and they will kill me because of my wife. He had judged the territory before testing it. The tradition notes that he was wrong about Gerar in a way he had not been wrong about Egypt. Abimelech did fear God. The assumption of godlessness had been Abraham's error, a useful error that kept Sarah technically truthful, since Sarah was his half-sister as well as his wife. But an error nonetheless.

Abraham prayed for Abimelech's household. The wombs opened. Sarah, who had been barren herself for decades, was about to conceive. The Ginzberg sources connect the restoration of the women in Abimelech's household to the approaching fulfillment of the promise to Sarah: in the same season that healing came to Gerar, the child who had been promised arrived.


← All myths

From the tradition

Sources

9 sources

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 5:182Legends of the Jews

Ever find yourself in a sticky situation, and think, "Didn't I just do this?" Well, let's He's about to have a serious case of déjà vu.

After leaving Egypt, Abraham and his wife, Sarah, journeyed to the land of the Philistines. Now, Abraham, perhaps remembering the unpleasantness with Pharaoh back in Egypt (you know, the whole "lying about Sarah being his sister" thing), decided to dust off that old plan. And, just like before, it's Sarah's extraordinary beauty that sets the whole thing in motion.

The story goes that word of Sarah's loveliness reached the ears of King Abimelech. Intrigued, he summoned her to his court. When he asked her about the man she was traveling with, Sarah, sticking to the pre-arranged agreement, told him that Abraham was her brother.

Abimelech, utterly captivated by Sarah, took her as his wife. And, as was customary, he showered Abraham, the supposed "brother of the queen," with gifts and honors. I mean, who wouldn't want to be in the good graces of the king’s in-laws?

But here's where things take a turn. That night, as Abimelech sat on his throne, preparing for bed, a deep sleep fell upon him. And in that sleep, he had a terrifying dream.

Imagine this: you're drifting off, feeling pretty good about your new queen, and suddenly, an angel of the Lord appears, sword raised, ready to strike. Talk about a rude awakening!

"Thou wilt die," the angel declared, "on account of the woman thou didst take into thy house this day, for she is the wife of Abraham." Can you imagine the shock? The angel continues, "Return his wife unto him! But if thou restore her not, thou shalt surely die, thou and all that are thine."

Talk about a wake-up call! This is a pretty direct intervention. What does Abimelech do next? We'll have to wait and see. But this much is clear: sometimes, even kings get a celestial nudge in the right direction. And sometimes, repeating past mistakes leads to even bigger problems. What do you think? Does Abraham deserve some of the blame for this sticky situation? Or is Abimelech simply a victim of circumstance?

Full source
Legends of the Jews 5:187Legends of the Jews

Remember the story? Abraham, fearing for his life in Gerar, tells everyone that Sarah is his sister. Abimelech, the king, then takes Sarah into his household. But God intervenes, revealing the truth to Abimelech in a dream. It’s a tricky situation, to say the least.

Abimelech, realizing his error, gives Abraham rich gifts. Okay, that’s not unusual. A king trying to make amends. But, according to the Legends of the Jews, compiled by Louis Ginzberg, this act stands in stark contrast to what Pharaoh did in a similar situation. Pharaoh gave gifts to Sarah, but Abimelech's motivation was different. He was God-fearing and actually desired Abraham's prayers.

There’s even more. He gave Sarah a costly robe, one that covered her entirely, concealing her beauty from others. It was a sign of respect, yes, but also, as Ginzberg points out, a subtle reproach to Abraham himself. Had Abraham truly provided for Sarah in a way befitting his wife? It's a quiet jab, isn't it? A royal "tsk tsk" if you will.

The real lesson here isn’t about gifts or robes; it’s about forgiveness. Even though Abimelech had wronged him – albeit unknowingly – Abraham not only grants him forgiveness but actively prays for him. What an example!

This brings to mind a powerful teaching from the Talmud. As the Talmud teaches in Ta'anit 20a, "Man should be pliant as a reed, not hard like the cedar." A reed bends with the wind, it is adaptable. A cedar? Rigid, unyielding.

The message is clear: We should be easily appeased and slow to anger. And the moment someone who has wronged us asks for pardon, we should forgive them with all our hearts. Even if the injury is deep and serious, we shouldn’t be vengeful or hold a grudge.

It's a tall order, isn't it? Forgiveness isn't always easy. We’re human, we feel pain, we hold onto hurts. But the story of Abraham and Abimelech challenges us to rise above our initial reactions and strive for a higher standard. To be like the reed, bending towards reconciliation, rather than the unyielding cedar, stuck in its resentment.

Perhaps, that’s the true measure of a righteous person: not just in grand gestures, but in the quiet act of letting go. In the willingness to forgive, even when it's hard. What do you think? Where do you find yourself on the spectrum of reed and cedar?

Full source
Legends of the Jews 5:99Legends of the Jews

Abraham, fearing for his life in a foreign land, tells everyone that his wife, the stunning Sarah, is actually his sister. A classic "mistaken identity" situation. Except… it's not exactly a mistake, is it? It's a calculated risk. Pharaoh, naturally, is immediately smitten and takes Sarah into his house.

Pharaoh’s intentions are clear, but divine intervention has other plans. According to Legends of the Jews, as retold by Louis Ginzberg, Pharaoh’s “free-handed generosity availed naught.” Basically, all his charm and kingly gifts did him absolutely no good.

Why? Because an angel with a stick showed up. Seriously.

The scene. It's nighttime. Pharaoh is about to, shall we say, "approach" Sarah, and suddenly BAM! An angel appears, armed and ready. If Pharaoh even thinks about touching Sarah's shoe – to remove it, perhaps – the angel whacks him on the hand. Reach for her dress? Another blow.

It’s almost comical, this divine slapstick. But there's a serious point. Each time the angel is about to strike, he apparently turns to Sarah and asks for permission! Should he deliver the blow? Should he give Pharaoh a moment to reconsider? The power dynamic is fascinating, isn't it? Sarah, the captive, is somehow in control.

But the angel with the stick wasn't the only problem for Pharaoh. Oh no. A far more pervasive plague descended upon him and his entire court. Leprosy. Yes, you read that right. Not just Pharaoh, but his nobles, his servants, even the walls of his house and his very bed were afflicted! Suddenly, "indulging his carnal desires" was the least of his worries.

And when did all this happen? The night of the fifteenth of Nisan (the first month of the Hebrew calendar, in springtime). The very same night, Legends of the Jews points out, that God would later visit the Egyptians to redeem the children of IsraelSarah’s descendants. Talk about a cosmic connection.

So, what’s the takeaway? Perhaps it’s that even the most powerful ruler is ultimately subject to a higher power. Or maybe it's that even in the most precarious situations, a person – like Sarah – can possess a quiet strength that shapes the course of events. Whatever it is, it's a reminder that the stories we tell are often far stranger – and more meaningful – than we might initially think.

Full source
Antiquities I.8Antiquities of the Jews (Josephus)

Abraham didn't just go to Egypt to escape famine. According to Josephus, he went to debate the priests.

When drought struck Canaan, Abraham heard that Egypt was prosperous and decided to travel south. But he had a double purpose: he wanted to partake of Egypt's abundance, and he wanted to meet their scholars. If the Egyptian priests had better ideas about God, he would follow them. If they didn't, he would convert them. That was the kind of man Josephus presents, not just a patriarch but an intellectual heavyweight who walked into foreign courts looking for an argument.

The problem was Sarah. She was beautiful, dangerously so. And Abraham knew that Pharaoh would have him killed to take her. So he told Sarah to pose as his sister (Genesis 12:13). The disguise failed almost immediately. Word of Sarah's beauty spread through the Egyptian court, and Pharaoh sent for her, intending to make her his own.

God intervened with plagues and political chaos. Pharaoh's body broke down with disease. His government erupted in sedition. When the Egyptian priests finally told him the truth, that this catastrophe was divine punishment for pursuing another man's wife. Pharaoh summoned Abraham, returned Sarah untouched, and gave him enormous wealth as an apology.

Then something remarkable happened. Pharaoh didn't exile Abraham. He invited him to stay and learn from Egypt's greatest scholars. And Abraham didn't just learn, he taught. Josephus claims Abraham introduced the Egyptians to arithmetic and astronomy, sciences they had never known before. These disciplines had originated among the Chaldeans, and Abraham carried them into Egypt, from where they eventually passed to the Greeks. A famine refugee had become the most admired mind in the most advanced civilization on earth.

Full source
Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer 26:8Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer

Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer turns to Abimelech Among the Heavenly Host.

We find this story tucked away in Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer, a fascinating and somewhat enigmatic work of Jewish literature. In chapter 26, the narrative focuses on the Abimelech of Gerar, the one who unwittingly took Sarah, Abraham's wife, into his household thinking she was single.

What happened next wasn't just a simple case of divine disapproval. No, it was far more… comprehensive. That Abimelech became impotent. Not just him, but all the women in his house became barren. Even, incredibly, "the smallest insect" felt the effect, unable to reproduce. The verse from (Genesis 20:18) spells it out: "For the Lord had fast closed up all the wombs of the house of Abimelech."

Ouch.

But the story doesn’t stop there. The angel Michael himself descended, sword drawn, ready to deliver a final blow. Can you imagine facing down Michael, the archangel? Abimelech, in his desperation, pleaded his case. "Is this a true judgment?" he asks. "A true sentence to slay me when I had no knowledge? 'Wilt thou slay even a righteous nation?'" He had a point, didn't he? He acted in ignorance!

The angel's response? It's a turning point. He quotes God: "Restore the man's wife, for he is a prophet." And here's the key: "And he shall pray for thee, and thou shalt live."

So, what does this all mean? It's more than just a simple tale of divine retribution. It highlights the power of teshuvah (repentance), repentance, and the incredible importance of a righteous person’s prayer. Abimelech was spared, not because he was innocent, but because Abraham, the prophet, could intercede on his behalf. Even in the face of what seems like absolute judgment, there's always a path to redemption. The story reminds us that ignorance isn't always bliss, but it doesn't have to be a death sentence either. It emphasizes the profound connection between people, the responsibility we have to each other, and the power of prayer to heal and restore, even when we least expect it. It's a powerful message, isn't it?

Full source
Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Genesis 20:9Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Genesis

Picture the king of Gerar standing before the stranger who had walked into his court with a wife he called a sister. Abimelech is not shouting. He is stunned. In Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on (Genesis 20:9), the Aramaic paraphrase dramatizes the moment with precision, Abraham's silence has brought a chova rabba, a great sin, upon the king and upon an entire kingdom.

Notice what the Targum refuses to soften. Abimelech does not ask, What have you done to me? He asks, What have you done to us? The sin is communal. A ruler's household is his people, and one almost-taken woman could have toppled a nation.

The Targum of Pseudo-Jonathan, compiled in Land of Israel tradition and receiving its final shape perhaps as late as the seventh or eighth century CE, consistently magnifies consequence. Here it teaches that deception, even deception meant to preserve a life, carries weight beyond the liar's own skin.

The takeaway the Maggidim drew from this verse: a righteous person must weigh not only what their words do to themselves, but what their silence does to a kingdom.

Full source
Midrash Tanchuma Buber, Vayera 27:1Midrash Tanchuma Buber, Vayera

"And Abimelech took..." (Genesis 20:14). He said to Abraham, "Behold, my land is before you" (ibid., verse 15). See the honor with which he honored Abraham! And not only that, but Sarah as well. From where do we know this? As it is said, "And to Sarah he said, Behold, I have given a thousand pieces of silver to your brother..." (ibid., verse 16). Rabbi Acha said: What is the meaning of "Behold, it is for you a covering of the eyes" (ibid.)? He took a royal garment and clothed her in it and made her a noblewoman (matrona). Why? So that no man in the world would seek to take her; rather, they would hear that she was a queen and be afraid to seek to take her.

Full source
Legends of the Jews 5:185Legends of the Jews

He and his people were terrified, convinced a similar fiery doom might be headed their way.

Abimelech, understandably shaken, summons Abraham. He's not happy. He basically accuses Abraham of bringing this catastrophe upon them with his… well, let's call them untruths about Sarah.

Abraham, ever the quick thinker, offers an explanation. He says he feared for his life! "The fear of God not being in the place," he argues, he believed the locals might just kill him to get their hands on Sarah. It was a matter of survival, he insists.

The conversation doesn't end there. Abraham, perhaps feeling the need to justify his actions, launches into a full-blown autobiography. It’s a fascinating glimpse into his early life and his evolving relationship with the Divine.

He recounts how, even back in his father's house, "the nations of the world sought to do me harm, but God proved Himself my Redeemer." Ginzberg, in his Legends of the Jews, paints a vivid picture of Abraham constantly facing challenges, constantly being protected.

And it wasn't just physical danger. Abraham continues, "When the nations of the world tried to lead me astray to idolatry, God revealed Himself to me." This, of course, is a pivotal moment. This is when God speaks directly to Abraham, issuing the famous command: "Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father's house."

Think about the weight of that command. Leaving everything behind… all for the promise of a new path, a new covenant.

Abraham's story even includes a fascinating detail about the spiritual state of the world at that time. "When the nations of the world were about to go astray," he claims, "God sent two prophets, my kinsmen Shem and Eber, to admonish them." Shem and Eber, righteous figures in their own right, were sent as a kind of last-ditch effort to steer humanity back to the right path. It’s a powerful image – God sending messengers, giving humanity every chance to choose good over evil.

It makes you wonder: Were the people of Sodom beyond saving? Did they ignore the warnings, the gentle nudges toward righteousness? And what about us? What warnings are we ignoring today?

Full source
Midrash Aggadah, Genesis 20:11Midrash Aggadah

"Only there is no fear of God in this place" (Genesis 20:11), and if they know that she is my wife, they will kill me on her account. And Abraham also said to him: Why do you blame me, that if I had said she is my wife and not my sister, for had you known she was my wife you would not have taken her; and even though I said to you "she is my sister," you should have considered regarding me that perhaps she is my wife, so why [did you take her]? And even were it true that she is my sister, I was able to marry her, since she is my sister on the father's side and not on the mother's side.

Full source