Abraham: New Wife, New Life (Genesis 25:1)

Abraham married again after Sarah died. What was his second wife’s name? Keturah (Genesis 25:1)

Little is known of Abraham’s last 38 years, from the time his wife Sarah dies when he is 137 (Genesis 23:1) until his own death at the age of 175 (Genesis 25:7). Almost as an appendix, Abraham is said to have married a woman named Keturah (Genesis 25:1).

Now Abraham took another wife, whose name was Keturah. She bore to him Zimran and Jokshan and Medan and Midian and Ishbak and Shuah. (Genesis 25:1-2 NASB)

Bewilderingly, there is no connection between this passage and the material that precedes or follows it.

Keturah is a mysterious figure. Little detail is given her. The text does not state her age, place of origin, whether she was a slave like Hagar (Genesis 16:1) or her fate. The only detail provided is her name. “Keturah” comes from qetoret (“incense”) which has led some to suggest that her descendants were engaged in the incense trade. This industry is associated with the Arabian Peninsula (especially the territory east of the Gulf of Aqaba) in the Old Testament (I Kings 10:2; Isaiah 60:6). This theory fits the geography of the passage as several of her sons’ names, but not all of them, are associated with this region.

Nahum M. Sarna (1923-2005) comments:

Because of her name, it is reasonable to assume that the key factor behind the organization of the Keturah tribes was the spice trade—the production, shipment, and distribution of this precious commodity. It so happens that both biblical and Assyrian sources mention many of the names here listed [Genesis 25:2-4] as those of peoples and localities involved in the particular branch of international commerce. They controlled the trade routes that led from the Arabian Peninsula to the lands of the Fertile Crescent. This accounts for the picture of such widespread geographical diffusion of the Ketureans from southern Arabia to the Middle Euphrates region and northern Syria. (Sarna, Genesis (JPS Torah Commentary), 172)

Adding to the passage’s puzzle is the absence of a time stamp. Many have speculated that Abraham’s relationship with Keturah is concurrent with his marriage to Sarah given Abraham’s age, inferring that Abraham’s arrangement with Hagar is not an isolated incident (Genesis 16:1-4). Some rabbis have even posited that Keturah is merely another name for Hagar.

Robert Alter (b. 1935) acknowledges:

The actual place of this whole genealogical notice in the chronology of Abraham’s life might be somewhere after the burial of Sarah at the end of chapter 23, or perhaps even considerably earlier. The genealogy is inserted here as a formal marker of the end of the Abraham story. Perhaps a certain tension was felt between the repeated promise that Abraham would father a vast nation and the fact that he had begotten only two sons. The tension would have bee mitigated by inserting this document at the end of his story with the catalog of his sons by Keturah. (Alter, Genesis: Translation and Commentary, 124)

There is also ambiguity as to whether Keturah is another wife or merely a concubine. Victor P. Hamilton (b. 1941) examines:

This is the only passage in Genesis that mentions Keturah. Here she is called Abraham’s wife, but in I Chronicles 1:32 she is identified as “Abraham’s concubine.” The coidentification is comparable with Bilhah, who is called both Jacob’s concubine (Genesis 35:22) and Jacob’s wife (Genesis 30:4). By contrast, Zilpah is identified as Jacob’s wife (Genesis 30:9) but never as his concubine. If “by concubines” in Genesis 25:6 is a reference to Hagar and Keturah...then again both Hagar (Genesis 16:3) and Keturah (Genesis 25:1) are called “wife” in one place but “concubine” in another (Genesis 25:6)...The emphasis on Keturah’s status as wife would suggest that Abraham married her after the death of Sarah. If the emphasis is on her status as concubine then one would think that Abraham married her while Sarah was still living, as he did with Hagar. In that case one wold have to understand married in this verse as a pluperfect — “had married.” (Hamilton, The Book of Genesis: Chapters 18-50 (New International Commentary on the Old Testament Series), 165)

The placement of the wedding notice and the passage’s verbs give the impression that Keturah enters the scene after Sarah’s death (Genesis 23:1-2). Gerhard Von Rad (1901-1971) writes:

The remark about Abraham’s marriage to Keturah and the genealogy connected with it do not easily follow the previous narrative context by our standards. To be sure, one cannot understand the verses otherwise than that this marriage followed the one with Sarah. But then we are disturbed by the thought that forty years previously, Abraham no longer thought it possible to beget a son. (Von Rad, Genesis: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 262)

It appears Abraham got a new lease on life after Sarah’s death. Amazingly, though forty years earlier he thought himself too old for children (Genesis 17:17), Abraham has half a dozen children with Keturah (Genesis 25:2), the most familiar of which is Midian. In fact, the passage documents six sons, seven grandsons and three great grandsons from their union (Genesis 25:2-4). Keturah may have birthed daughters as well.

Though Abraham honors and provides for these sons they do not participate in the Promise (Genesis 25:5-6). Keturah’s sons are as detached from Abraham as the passage in which they appear. Abraham bequeaths everything he owns to Isaac, his sole beneficiary (Genesis 25:5). Keturah’s sons are a collateral line who are safely exiled to the east (Genesis 25:1-6). This leaves Keturah a secondary wife with lower status than Sarah.

James McKeown delineates:

The narrative implies no criticism of Abraham, and his large family is evidence of the fulfillment of the earlier promises that he would have numerous progeny (Genesis 15:5). Nothing disparaging is said about Keturah, the concubines, or their offspring, but there is a clear demarcation between them and Isaac. Isaac is given a position of unmistakable prominence as the son of Abraham in a special and unique sense, and through him Abraham’s most significant line of descent is traced — the line of promise and blessing. (McKeown, Genesis (Two Horizons Old Testament Commentary), 124)

Abraham dies with his affairs in order. Abraham protects the Promise, which will come through Isaac. In making this distinction, the passage brings to close central the theme of Abraham’s heir.

Does it matter when Keturah marries Abraham? How are we to view Keturah? How would Keturah fit into Paul’s analogy differentiating Hagar and Sarah (Galatians 4:21-31)? Do Abraham’s sons with Keturah diminish the miracle of Isaac in any way? What does one do when their spouse dies? Have you ever known anyone who happily remarried after a spouse died? Did it detract from their previous marriage?

The succinct route which led Abraham to children with Keturah is remarkable when compared to the torturous path that led to Isaac. Burton L. Visotzky (b. 1951) remarks startlingly:

It’s reported so matter-of-factly. Abraham takes this woman, Keturah, who the rabbis immediately identify with Hagar, as if Sarah being dead, Abraham goes back to Hagar. But assuming it’s a third wife, it would be as if after all the family dysfunction for all those years, Abraham, now in old age, finally settles down and has a normal family. At this point, God’s out of the picture. Abraham doesn’t have a relationship with God anymore. But he has a normal life. (Moyers, Genesis: A Living Conversation, 217)

Is life easier for Abraham when God is no longer featured prominently in his story? How would your life be different without God? How would it be easier? How would it be more difficult?

“Don’t wish it were easier, wish you were better.” - Jim Rohn (1930-2009)

Wear Shoes, No Service (Exodus 3)

Where did Moses take off his shoes? At the burning bush (Exodus 3:1, 5)

As the leader of the exodus, Moses plays a significant role in the Bible but before leading the Israelite people, he leads Midianite sheep (which may have been as good a precursor as any). Moses is exiled in Midian where he marries the daughter of the local priest (Exodus 2:15-22). While tending his father-in-law’s flock on Mount Horeb, the extraordinary breaks into the ordinary when God famously appears to Moses in the form of a burning bush that is not consumed by the flames (Exodus 3:1-2). This is known as a theophany, a visible manifestation of God. Some have quipped that the burning bush is also the first road sign.

God immediately sets the tone of the encounter by issuing two commands: come no closer and remove your footwear (Exodus 3:5).

Then He said, “Do not come near here; remove your sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” (Exodus 3:5 NASB)

Moses is naturally terrified (Exodus 3:6). In the midst of this alarming scene, Moses’ choice of footwear was likely the furthest thing from his mind and the text makes no mention of whether or not he regains the composure to comply but the presumption is that he did so. Promptly.

Marc Vervenne (b. 1949) observes:

Moses is allowed and even called upon to stand on holy ground, but he is not to approach any more. Exactly the same situation is presented by the tale of the Sinai revelation: Israel is called upon to stand on the outskirts of the holy precinct on a given moment, but may not ascend the mountain any more [Exodus 19:12-13]. Like Moses before they are standing on the border of the holy. The veil has been lifted but not removed. (Vervenne, Studies in the Book of Exodus, 135)

The encounter transforms Moses’ life. Max Lucado (b. 1955) remarks:

With these...words Moses in enrolled in a class on God. Immediately the roles are defined. God is holy. Approaching him on even a quarter-inch of leather is too pompous...no time is spent convincing Moses what Moses can do, but much time is spent explaining to Moses what God can do. (Lucado, The Great House of God, 27)

At the burning bush, God calls Moses to lead the exodus and the tale’s dramatic features and historic impact make it one of the Bible’s most famous stories. Stephen J. Binz (b. 1955) lauds, “The mission of Moses is the prototype of the many other calls that will follow in the history of salvation. Of all the vocation narratives in the Bible, this is the longest and most memorable (Binz, The God of Freedom and Life: A Commentary on the Book of Exodus, 20).”

The directive to remove his shoes was a significant enough detail to be incorporated into Stephen’s retelling of the history of Israel in Acts (Acts 7:33). Peter Enns (b. 1961) writes, “Why...must he remove his sandals? This is a sign of reverence common in the ancient Near East, a practice that continues to this day. Joshua is commanded to do the same in Joshua 5:15 (Enns, Exodus (The NIV Application Commentary), 98).”

As Enns alludes, removing one’s shoes is still a sign of reverence in parts of the world. In deference to this passage, certain Hasidic groups remove their shoes before approaching the grave site of a holy person. The practice clearly has ancient roots. J. Gerald Janzen (b. 1932) explains:

On entering one’s tent or someone else’s, one removed one’s sandals to walk cleanly on the rug spread on the ground. A host’s invitation to remove one’s sandals (especially the offer to remove them and wash the feet, as in Genesis 18:4 and John 13:1-17) was an offer of hospitality—an offer of one’s home as the visitor’s home away from home. One accepted such hospitality by respecting the sanctity of the host’s space and moving about in it courteously. If the God of the ancestors, whom contemporary scholars characterize as a family or clan God, could receive such hospitality at Abraham’s hands (Genesis 18:1-8), it should not be surprising to find the same imagery used here, where Moses finds himself in the presence of that same God (Exodus 3:6)...Moses finds himself in a presence that is unfathomably sacred, a presence that invites him to be at home at the same time that it claims his profound respect. He who has felt himself “an alien residing in a foreign land” (Exodus 2:22) now finds himself a guest of God. (Janzen, Exodus (Westminster Bible Companion), 28-29)

Douglas K. Stuart (b. 1943) expounds:

There are many references in the Bible to taking off or putting on sandals, but none has any connection with holiness except this one. Presumably, taking off shoes was done when entering the presence of a superior person which usually would occur formally when one was at the superior person’s house, palace, or tent. Thus Sinai/Horeb is here implicitly identified as “Yahweh’s place.” Thus the very ground is holy—something said of no other location in the Bible. (Stuart, Exodus (The New American Commentary), 114-115)

Carol Meyers (b. 1942) adds:

The descriptions of priestly attire in the tabernacle passages do not mention priestly footwear [Exodus 28:1-43, 39:1-31; Leviticus 8:5-9); presumably priests went barefoot as they traversed the sacred precincts of Israel’s god. A similar removal of shoes as a sign of respect in the domain of the deity is found in the custom of Muslims taking off their footwear as they enter a mosque; and to this very day, members of priestly families traditionally remove their shoes when they recite certain blessings in the synagogue. (Meyers, Exodus (New Cambridge Bible Commentary), 53)

While shoes certainly serve a practical purpose, Moshe Chagiz (1671-1750) posited that there might also be a spiritual dimension to God’s request. Nosson Scherman (b. 1935) documents:

Moshe Chagiz offer a deeper reason for wearing shoes. Man does not want to touch the ground directly because the ground was cursed as a result of Adam’s sin [Genesis 3:17]...Thus, man took to wearing shoes...Shoes are only worn on accursed ground; on holy ground, one goes barefoot, making contact with the ground. (Scherman, Yom Kippur, 77)

Some still find spiritual value in making a barefoot pilgrimage. Barbara Brown Taylor (b. 1951) challenges:

Take off your shoes and feel the earth under your feet, as if the ground on which you are standing really is holy ground. Let it please you. Let it hurt you a little. Feel how the world really feels when you do not strap little tanks on your feet to shield you from the way things really are. (Taylor, An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith, 67)

What do you do to indicate respect? When do you take your shoes off? How do you think the sheep responded to the burning bush? Had Moses been hiking barefoot, what would God have commanded him to do? What made the ground holy?

Terence E. Fretheim (b. 1936) clarifies:

This ground is now holy because of God’s appearance, not because it was already holy. There is no holiness inherent in the place as such, no natural sanctity, but that which is not holy now becomes so by virtue of the divine purpose for the place (not just the divine presence). That which is an ordinary part of the natural order is sanctified, set apart for special use by God. This setting apart was not only for this occasion but also for the future. God’s appearance to Moses establishes Sinai/Horeb as a sacred place (cf. Exodus 3:12; Genesis 28:16-17). God draws a particular plot of ground, an aspect of the creative order, into a new sphere of relationship. (Fretheim, Exodus: Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching, 56-57)

As evidenced by Moses’ wilderness encounter with God while completing a mundane task, God’s holy ground is not limited to the walls of a church or to any single place. Meyers records:

At this point, the notion of sacred space becomes an explicit part of the narrative for the first time in the Hebrew Bible. The word for “place,” māqôm, is often a technical term in biblical Hebrew for a sanctuary or holy place (cf. Genesis 28:11, 19); and “holy ground” likewise connotes sacred space. (Meyers, 53)

Douglas K. Stuart (b. 1943) adds:

The theme of the divine Presence is a major topic of Exodus. It often is emphasized by commands requiring distance from God so as not to intrude too far on his holiness, proximity to which carries with it danger to the person not properly prepared (sanctified). This passage, with its come-no-further command, is remarkably parallel to that of Exodus 19:9-25, where a series of conditions of sanctification (procedures that confer holiness) and distance...are imposed upon the Israelites. Thus what God’s people would eventually have to learn from God through him, Moses now began to learn from God. (Stuart, Exodus (The New American Commentary), 114)

Not even Moses was exempt from recognizing God’s holiness. This is the first time that the Hebrew noun for “holy” (qodesh) is used in Scripture. Donald E. Gowan (b. 1929) explains:

“Holiness” has been identified as the quality of divinity itself, as the term is used in scripture, and so it seems that Exodus begins talking about God where we ought to begin. (Gowan, Theology in Exodus: Biblical Theology in the Form of a Commentary, 26)

How do you acknowledge God’s holiness? Have you known any preachers who assumed the pulpit barefooted in deference to this passage? Is there any place that should be considered holy ground today?

“Moses at the burning bush was told to take off his shoes because the ground on which he stood was holy ground (Exodus 3:5), and incarnation means that all ground is holy ground because God not only made it but walked on it, ate and slept and worked and died on it. If we are saved anywhere, we are saved here. And what is saved is not some diaphanous distillation of our bodies and our earth, but our bodies and our earth themselves. “ - Frederick Buechner (b. 1926), Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC, p. 52

Gideon: When Less is More (Judges 7)

Who cut down his army and won a great victory? Gideon (Judges 7:2-8)

During the period of the judges in the 12th century BCE, Midianite raiders attacked Israel from the eastern desert (Judges 6:4). Their advances were made during summer (Judges 6:3), near harvest time, and impoverished Israel (Judges 6:6).

With the nation in peril, Gideon reluctantly agreed to God’s request to lead the Israelites against Midian (Judges 6:11-39). Gideon called in reserve units and Israel rallied around their new commander until God informed Gideon that he had a problem - he had two many soldiers (Judges 7:1). God opted for a less is more strategy.

The army was drastically reduced through two tests (Judges 7:3-7). The first test, comparable to modern psychiatric screening and in accordance with mandates in Deuteronomy (Deuteronomy 20:1-8), slashed Gideon’s army from 32,000 to 10,000 (Judges 7:3). The second test, a drinking manners test which differentiated between “lappers” and “kneelers”, whittled Gideon’s army down to its final tally of 300 soldiers (Judges 7:5-7). In contrast, the Midianites were as numerous as locusts (Judges 6:5, 7:12).

Fewer numbers being beneficial is counterintuitive. Military historian Richard A. Gabriel (b. 1942) notes that Gideon intentionally minimized his numbers from the outset. Though the Midianites had camped in Endor, land endowed to the tribe of Issachar, Gideon did not enlist Issachar. Gabriel rationalizes, “Gideon made no attempt to bring Issachar under arms. To do so would have immediately alerted the enemy. Gideon seems to have chosen to forego the additional manpower to preserve the element of surprise in mobilizing his army (Gabriel, The Military History of Ancient Israel, 171).”

Gabriel contends that the small army was simply strategy - “Given Gideon’s plan...the force was too large (Gabriel, 172)”. This is seen particularly in the second test that dwindled his numbers. Though its rationale is not stated many have viewed it not as arbitrary but rather as a means of choosing quality over quantity. Gabriel explains, “Gideon devised an ingenious method of selecting his best warriors for the attack...he watched the hot and thirsty soldiers drink their fill. He then chose his best soldiers...Gideon chose only the men “that lapped putting their hand to their mouth,” that is, the men who drank silently and remained vigilant with their weapons at the ready (Gabriel, 172).” As such, at the rest stop, 9700 were discharged leaving only an elite force of seasoned warriors prepared for battle.

Whatever Gideon’s reasons for preferring the smaller unit, he used his 300 wisely. He divided his soldiers into three companies (Judges 7:16), attacked at midnight which concealed the small size of his force (Judges 7:19), confused and scattered the enemy into attacking one another (Judges 7:19-20) and forced them to retreat into a convoy of waiting Israelites (Judges 7:23). Gideon ultimately executed two Midianites kings (Judges 7:24-25).

How would you have reduced Gideon’s army? When is a smaller force advantageous? Why do you think God reduced the size of Gideon’s army?

While Gideon’s smaller army was effective, a strategic explanation does not fit the theme of the text. Five separate references are made to God’s promise to save Israel through Gideon (Judges 6:36, 7:2, 7, 9, 14-15). Joseph R. Jeter (b. 1943) contends, “The story of Gideon’s victory over the Midianites is less about the battle than it is about who is to get credit for the victory (Jeter, Preaching Judges, 78-79).” God’s reduction of the army’s numbers leaves no doubts as to who won the battle. This is evident from the text’s outset:

The LORD said to Gideon, “The people who are with you are too many for Me to give Midian into their hands, for Israel would become boastful, saying, ‘My own power has delivered me.’” (Judges 7:2 NASB)

Susan Niditch (b. 1950) explains, “The outcome of the battle depends not on Israelite expertise, but upon the prowess and goodwill of the divine warrior, protector of Israel. The fewer the number of human soldiers, the greater the victory of God (Niditch, Judges: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 97).” As such, the story of Gideon is really a story about the sovereignty of God.

Are there any areas of your life where it would serve you well to incorporate a less is more approach? Where do you need to become less so that God can become greater (John 3:30)? Has God’s power ever been perfected in your weakness (II Corinthians 12:9)?

I asked God for strength, that I might achieve.
I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey.
I asked for health, that I might do greater things.
I was given infirmity, that I might do better things.
I asked for riches, that I might be happy.
I was given poverty, that I might be wise.
I asked for power that I might have the praise of men.
I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God.
I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life.
I was give life, that I might enjoy all things.
I got nothing that I asked for—but got everything I had hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.
I am, among all people, most richly blessed.
- The Prayer of an Unknown Confederate Soldier

Moses’ Varied Background (Exodus 18:1)

Where was Moses’ father-in-law a priest? Midian (Exodus 18:1)

Moses lived 120 years (Deuteronomy 34:7). His life can be divided neatly into three forty year increments: living in Egypt (Exodus 2:5-10; Acts 7:23), living in Midian (Exodus 2:15-22; Acts 7:30), and wandering in the wilderness whilst leading the Hebrews (Exodus 7:7; Acts 7:36).

Moses began life in Pharaoh’s court, having been adopted by the Pharaoh’s daughter (Exodus 2:5-10). After years, presumably raised as an Egyptian in Egypt’s royal family, he began to feel empathy for his native Hebrews and impetuously murdered an Egyptian taskmaster (Exodus 2:11-14).

Wanted for murder, Moses fled Egypt and spent his exile in relative obscurity in Midian (Exodus 2:15). Midian was one of Abraham’s sons from his second marriage (Genesis 25:2, 4). It was in Midian that Moses’ life was most “normal”. He married the priest’s daughter, Zipporah, and had two children (Exodus 2:21-22, 18:2-4).

Though Moses likely felt his life would end in Midian, at the age of eighty God called him into service and back to Egypt to evacuate his people.

Did Moses’ time in Midian prepare him for his life’s calling of leading the Exodus? How important is having a clear cut nationality? How do you define yourself in terms of ethnicity and nationality? How do you feel Moses would have described his ethnicity and nationality? Would it have varied at different junctures?

At no point in his life did Moses ever live with his own countrymen in a land they owned or even possessed a permanent dwelling. He was perpetually a stranger in a strange land. Moses answering the question of where he was from would likely have resembled modern answers of children born to missionaries and military personnel who have traveled the globe never really having lived amongst their ancestors’ people.

Further complicating matters is the fact that Moses’ own Hebrew culture had not yet developed its ethnicity. In his provocatively titled book Moses the Egyptian, Jan Assmann (b. 1938) writes, “What we would today call their ‘ethnicity’ or ‘cultural identity,’ which would set the Israelites apart from their Egyptian host culture, did not yet exist because the construction of this identity was precisely the function of the Law (Assmanm, 70).” And the Law had yet to be written.

This does not mean that Hebrews did not recognize themselves as being unique. Moses’ biggest criticism from his family came ostensibly because of his wife. While scholars are divided as to whether this wife was Zipporah or a second wife, Moses’ siblings were alarmed in part because he had married a “Cushite” (Numbers 12:1-2). (For my more detailed analysis of this story, read this previous post.) God intervened in the matter and sided with Moses (Numbers 12:4-9).

Whether or not Moses’ wife’s nationality was the real issue, it cannot be denied that Moses married someone whom his siblings designated as “other”. It is perhaps not surprising, that Moses, who never quite seemed to have a home, seemingly had no problems marrying someone so different from himself.

What is your stance on interracial relationships? Why do you believe as you do? How do you think your own heritage has influenced your views on the matter?

“I hope that people will finally come to realize that there is only one 'race' - the human race - and that we are all members of it.” - Margaret Atwood (b. 1939)