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Abraham Kept Commandments That Did Not Yet Exist

Centuries before Sinai, Abraham entered a covenant with God sealed in flesh. The tradition had to explain how a man can keep a law that has not been given.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Problem With Abraham's Obedience
  2. What the Title Reveals
  3. The Moment the Covenant Was Sealed
  4. The Warning He Left His Children

The Problem With Abraham's Obedience

The sage who wrote Ben Sira in Jerusalem around 180 BCE put the difficulty plainly. He was writing a book of wisdom in praise of Israel's great ancestors, and he got to Abraham, and he said what the tradition required him to say: Abraham kept the commandments of the Most High and entered into a covenant with Him.

No one who heard this in the second century BCE missed the problem. Abraham lived centuries before Moses. Before Sinai. Before the Torah was delivered. There were no commandments to keep. The law that Israel organized its entire life around had not yet been given. How does a man keep commandments that do not exist?

What the Title Reveals

Ben Sira's answer is inside the phrasing. He does not say Abraham obeyed the Torah. He says Abraham kept the commandments of the Most High. The title mattered. The Most High. Not the God of Moses. Not the God of Sinai. The sovereign of the universe, whose will runs deeper than any single legislative event in history. What Abraham accessed was not the law as given at Sinai but the law as it exists at its source, prior to all human receiving of it, written into the structure of things before any prophet was born to transmit it.

In his flesh, Ben Sira says, a law was cut. In his testimony, it was established. The covenant was not a document that could be lost. It was a bodily mark. It traveled in the skin of every son born into the line.

The Moment the Covenant Was Sealed

The Book of Jubilees reconstructed the scene in precise ritual detail. Abram, as he was still called, had received the promise but the covenant had not yet been formally enacted. Then came the command: take a heifer three years old, a she-goat three years old, a ram three years old, a turtledove, and a young pigeon. He took them. He cut them in half, each animal divided and the pieces laid over against each other. Then the sun went down. A deep sleep fell on Abram. And in the darkness, a smoking furnace and a burning torch passed between the pieces.

This was the covenant cut. In the ancient Near East, walking between the divided animals bound the parties to the agreement under the curse of becoming like the divided flesh if they violated the terms. God passed between the pieces. The covenant was sealed. Abram had not spoken the terms. He had only prepared the animals, waited through the hot afternoon, driven away the birds of prey that descended on the carcasses, and then fallen into sleep while God enacted the binding alone.

The Warning He Left His Children

Years later, when Abraham was old and had seen enough of the world's capacity for forgetting, he summoned his son and the sons of his household and warned them. The warning was not gentle. He had grown up among idol worshippers. He knew exactly how it happened. A person does not wake up one morning and decide to worship stone. They drift. The images are already in the house. The neighbors have always done it. The festivals have always been attended. The drift is slow and social and entirely ordinary, and by the time a man realizes he has forgotten the covenant his grandfather sealed in flesh and blood, it feels like he never knew it to begin with.

"Do not worship them," Abraham said. "You know what they are. You have seen what I have seen. The covenant is in your bodies. Do not let your children forget what that mark means."


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Sources

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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.

Ben Sira 44:23Ben Sira

Ben Sira, also known as Ecclesiasticus, is a book of wisdom literature, a treasure trove of insights into Jewish thought and practice, though it's not included in the Hebrew Bible's canon. Within its pages, we find reflections on everything from ethics to everyday life, and here, in chapter 44, the focus is on legacy and covenant.

"He kept the commandments of the Highest, and came with a covenant with Him." Who is "he"? Well, And what does it mean to keep the commandments? It's more than just following rules. It's about aligning your heart and soul with the divine will. It's about striving for righteousness, even when it's difficult.

"In his flesh a law was cut, and in his test he was found faithful." This, of course, is a direct reference to brit milah, the covenant of circumcision. It's a physical mark, a permanent reminder of the bond between Abraham and God. But it’s more than just a physical act, isn't it? It's a symbol of dedication, of willingness to commit fully to the path that God has set forth. And the test? Think of the Akeidah, the binding of Isaac. Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his own son, his most precious possession, is the ultimate evidence of his faith.

"Thus, with an oath He held him up, to bless nations with his seed; to grant them from sea to sea, and from the River to the edge of the land." Because of Abraham's unwavering faith, God made a promise – a promise to bless not just Abraham himself, but all of his descendants. A promise of land, of prosperity, of influence. This isn't just about real estate, though. It's about a spiritual inheritance, a legacy of righteousness that would spread throughout the world. The blessing to all nations!

"And also to Yitzḥaq He brought a son, for the sake of Avraham his father; a covenant of all given from the first, and a blessing rested on the head of Israel." The covenant doesn’t end with Abraham. It passes down through the generations, from Abraham to Isaac (Yitzchak) and then to Jacob (who becomes Israel). Each generation renews the covenant, reaffirming their commitment to God's path. The Zohar, that foundational text of Jewish mysticism, often speaks of the importance of transmitting spiritual blessings and responsibilities from parent to child – and we see that beautifully here.

"And He founded him with a blessing, and He gave him his inheritance; and he established him with tribes, as a portion twelvefold." This verse points towards the eventual formation of the twelve tribes of Israel, each a unique part of the larger whole. It's a reminder that we are all interconnected, that our individual destinies are intertwined with the destiny of our people.

So, what does it all mean for us today? What can we take away from these ancient words? Perhaps it's a reminder that faith is not a passive thing. It requires action, commitment, and a willingness to be tested. Perhaps it's a call to remember the covenant, the bond that connects us to our ancestors and to God. Or maybe it's simply an invitation to reflect on the legacy we want to leave behind, the blessings we want to pass on to future generations. Whatever resonates with you, I hope it inspires you to live a life of purpose, meaning, and unwavering faith.

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Book of Jubilees 15:5Book of Jubilees

Book of Jubilees turns to Abram, Covenant of Abraham.

The scene: Abram, having just received divine instructions, is at the altar. He’s not just going through the motions. This is a moment of profound connection. He offers “new offerings…the first-fruits of the produce, unto the Lord.” These aren't stale leftovers; they're the best of the best, a tangible expression of gratitude and devotion. He offers a heifer, a goat, and a sheep, each a korban (a sacrificial offering) olah, a burnt offering, completely consumed by fire as a sacrifice to God.

The text continues: “their fruit-offerings and their drink-offerings he offered upon the altar with frankincense.” frankincense. The aroma filling the air, the smoke rising towards the heavens. It's a multi-sensory experience, a full-bodied act of worship. The Book of Jubilees paints a picture of Abram not just following instructions, but pouring his heart and soul into this sacred act.

Then, the pivotal moment: “And the Lord appeared to Abram…”

This isn’t just a voice from the sky. This is a direct encounter, a divine presence. And what does God say? “I am God Almighty; approve thyself before Me and be thou perfect.”

El Shaddai – God Almighty – makes a powerful declaration. But it's that next phrase that really grabs you: "approve thyself before Me and be thou perfect." What does it mean to be "perfect" before God? Is it about flawless behavior? Or is it about striving, about the intention behind our actions, about continually refining ourselves?

God continues, “And I will make My covenant between Me and thee, and I will multiply thee exceedingly.”

This is it. The core of the covenant. A promise of abundance, a promise of descendants beyond counting. This covenant is the bedrock of the Jewish people.

Abram’s response is immediate and visceral: “And Abram fell on his face…”

Humility. Awe. Recognition of the sheer immensity of the moment. In that posture of submission, God begins to speak again.

What follows are further details of the covenant. But it all begins with that scene at the altar, with Abram's offerings, with his willingness to engage in a physical act that creates a pathway for divine communication. It makes you wonder about the rituals in our own lives. What offerings – of time, of energy, of ourselves – do we bring to the metaphorical altar? What covenants are we forging, and how can we, like Abram, strive to be "perfect" – whole, complete, and fully present – in the eyes of the Divine?

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Book of Jubilees 20:3Book of Jubilees

It's one that the Book of Jubilees tackles head-on.

It's considered pseudepigrapha, meaning it’s attributed to a biblical figure (in this case, Moses), but wasn't included in the canonical Hebrew Bible.

Chapter 20 lays down some serious directives. It's not just about personal piety, but about how we interact with the entire world. It states quite plainly that we are commanded to "observe the way of the Lord." So, what does that actually look like?

Well, according to Jubilees, it means actively working righteousness, loving our neighbors – and not just those who are easy to love, but everyone. The text urges us to act in this manner "amongst all men," walking in such a way as "to do judgment and righteousness on the earth." It’s a tall order, isn’t it? To be a force for justice and compassion in every interaction.

But it doesn’t stop there. The text also emphasizes the importance of adhering to the covenant, specifically the act of circumcision for sons. This isn't just a physical act, but a symbolic one, a constant reminder of the agreement between God and the Jewish people. We are instructed "not to deviate to the right hand or the left of all the paths which the Lord has commanded us.” In other words, stay true to the path.

And finally, there's a strong call for moral purity: "that we should keep ourselves from all fornication and uncleanness, [and renounce from amongst us all fornication and uncleanness]." This isn't just about physical acts, but about maintaining a sense of inner holiness and integrity. About creating a community that is set apart.

What strikes me most about this passage is its comprehensive vision. It's not enough to simply follow religious rituals. We are called to live ethically, to treat others with respect and fairness, and to uphold the values of our tradition in every aspect of our lives. It suggests that our actions, both big and small, have a ripple effect, shaping the world around us for better or worse. Food for thought, isn’t it?

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