Abram's call reaffirmed; a covenant sealed; January 8, 2013 7:55 AM

Genesis 15.

Abram expresses a lot of doubt here at the start. He sounds a bit pathetic: “I’m still childless” (implied is an accusation to God, “despite Your unbelievable promise”) “and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus.” Presumably his right-hand man, the nearest thing to a son he has. Again, I find it reassuring that the very symbol of faith had such struggles with faith! We are not expected to immediately have unshakable faith. It needs to grow, to be confirmed as it is here for Abram. God makes a covenant with him, and goes through a symbolic ritual of passing between the halves of sacrificial animals.

The sixth verse, “he believed the Lord, and He counted it to him as righteousness,” becomes the foundation of the Apostle Paul’s argument in the New Testament that salvation is through faith, rather than good works. Fundamental Christianity has co-opted that notion and made it into “whoever believes that Jesus is their savior and died for their sins is saved.” But, in its essence, it simply means that those who trust in God are “righteous” before God. The word basically means being in right relationship with another. Fillmore, in Revealing Word, defines it as, “A state of harmony established in consciousness through the right use of God-given attributes.”

The sealing of the covenant with severed animal sacrifices seems bizarre to us today, and at this distance in time, no one knows for sure what the exact significance of this was to Abram. To me, the whole thing, especially the “deep sleep” and the “dreadful and great darkness,” with the smoking fire pot and the flaming torch passing between the pieces of the animals and God speaking, seems to portray some kind of ecstatic vision or mystical experience. Think of it as symbolic of a deep, profound meditation, in which we have laid open our hearts to the Divine and sit long in the silence, waiting on God. The birds of prey—those nagging, distracting thoughts—come to consume our offering but we chase them away. Eventually, our sitting is rewarded with a direct awareness of the Presence of God. This kind of deep, inner certainty, the kind Abram received, does not come after meditating for four or five minutes. It requires a firm intention (the offering laid out) and a determination not to be distracted by random thoughts. It requires waiting, to sunset, then past sunset—until our sense consciousness no longer occupies our attention, until our sight has turned completely inward. Then, God comes. Then, the Truth we have known intellectually takes root in our soul and becomes a part of us.