A Son - Scholarly Article

It’s debated whether Hagar saw God or an angel.
Both views are possible in the text.
In either case, God personally meets her and speaks to her.

Scholars disagree on whether Hagar encountered God directly or an angel acting on His behalf.

One view is that “the angel of the Lord” is a theophany, meaning God revealing Himself in a visible or audible form. Some Christian interpreters even understand this as a pre-incarnation appearance of Christ.

Another view is that the angel is a messenger who represents God, speaking in the first person because he carries divine authority. This kind of representation was common in the ancient Near East, where messengers spoke as if they were the sender.

Both interpretations fit the text, since the figure speaks as God, and Hagar responds as if she has encountered God Himself.

What is clear is the outcome: Hagar receives direct reassurance, guidance, and a promise about her child.

So regardless of whether the encounter is understood as divine appearance or mediated message, the meaning is the same: God sees Hagar, speaks to her, and cares for her situation in a personal way.

Commentators disagree about the answer to this question. Either way, God reveals His care for Hagar and gives her the same message.

Commentators disagree about how best to interpret the Old Testament figure of “the angel of the Lord,” a re-occurring theophany (i.e. an audio and/or visual “display to human beings that expresses the presence and character of God”^[109]) which might be interpreted as being either angelic or divine. Some who take “the angel of the Lord” to be divine understand it as a pre-incarnation appearance of the second person of the Trinity[110] (a so-called Christophany^[111]). The angel of the Lord may well be an angelic messenger who speaks God’s words in the first person because they are acting as God’s official representative/ambassador.[112] As theologian John H. Walton points out: “in Ugaritic literature, when Baal sends messengers to Mot, the messengers use first person forms of speech.”^[113] Either way, Hagar had a very special encounter in which God revealed His care for Hagar and for her unborn child, and in which she received the same divine message.

Some read Abraham’s age literally, others see it as symbolic.
Ancient texts often used numbers figuratively.
So 99 may express significance, not exact years.

There are two main ways to understand Abraham’s age in Genesis. A literal reading takes the number at face value, meaning Abraham was actually 99 years old. Many believers still hold this view. However, many scholars argue that these numbers reflect ancient literary conventions, not precise chronology.

In the ancient Near East, numbers were often used symbolically to convey honor, importance, or structure rather than exact measurement.

Archaeological evidence suggests most people lived much shorter lives, often 60–70 years. This creates tension with a strictly literal reading.

There are also internal challenges in the biblical timeline. Taken literally, some figures would overlap in ways the text never describes, which raises questions about whether the numbers are meant arithmetically.

Other ancient sources, like Mesopotamian king lists, also use large or patterned numbers for rhetorical effect, not record-keeping.

Because of this, many conclude that Abraham’s age is best understood as schematic or symbolic, fitting the storytelling style of the time.

At the same time, the literal view remains a valid position within Christian interpretation, so this is an area of ongoing debate.

While many modern-day Christians take what the Bible says about Abraham’s age literally, it is likely that “the ancient audiences all understood these to be schematic, not arithmetic numbers.”[114] In other words, given the  cultural context of the ancient near east, the numbers used for character ages in the patriarchal stories in Genesis are figurative rather than literal, and Abraham was not literally 99 years old 13 years after the birth of Ishmael.

As Egyptologist Kenneth Kitchen notes:

External evidence from burials of all periods all over the biblical world and beyond would indicate that most people died in their sixties or seventies at the latest (and most often, much younger).[115]

Theologian Craig Olsen observes that:

Not only do the lifespans themselves and a chronology based those lifespans create conflicts [with archaeological evidence] outside the Bible, but they create conflicts inside the Bible as well . . . . the face value interpretation of the patriarchal lifespans cannot be maintained consistently. . . . Isaac’s birth is not much of a miracle if both Abraham’s father and grandson fathered children older than 100. It seems unlikely that Abimelech would have taken Sarah for his harem if she were 89 or 90 years old as the face value reading implies. And Jacob volunteering to work for seven years for Rachel’s hand in marriage is ludicrous if he really was 77 years old.[116]

As Carol A. Hill points out:

If the genealogies in Genesis 5 and 11 are both literal and complete, then the death of Adam has to be dated to the generation of Noah’s father Lamech. Shem, Arphaxad, Shelah, and Eber would have outlived all of the generations following as far and including Terah. Noah would have been the contemporary of Abraham for 58 years and Shem (Noah’s son) would have survived Abraham by 35 years. But where does the Bible indicate that any of these men were coeval? They are spoken of as respected ancestors, not as contemporaries that interacted with them or who were to be cared for in their old age.[117]

However, as Olsen also observes:

There is also no evidence of any ancient culture recording lifespans or reigns of ancient ancestors as accurate face value numbers. All the evidence discovered to date shows that ancient cultures either did not record the lifespans of their ancestors, or they exaggerated their lifespan or reign using symbolic numbers as a way to bestow honor . . . . Ancient texts, like the Sumerian King List, the Gilgamesh Epic, the Lagaš King List, and Egyptian writings use numbers for rhetorical effect. They do exhibit use of multiplication and fractions; not for accurate record keeping, but hyperbolically to exaggerate and glorify their gods, kings or ancestors. They also use round numbers (10, 20, 30, 40, 60, 100, 200), sacred numbers (e.g., repeated use of the number seven), and graded numbers. All of these are also common biblical rhetorical devices . . .[118]

Likewise, Hill explains that:

the purpose of numbers in ancient religious texts could be numerological rather than numerical. Numerologically, a number’s symbolic value was the basis and purpose for its use, not its secular value in a system of counting. One of the religious considerations of the ancients involved in numbers was to make certain that any numbering scheme worked out numerologically; i.e., that it used, and added up to, the right numbers symbolically. This is distinctively different from a secular use of numbers in which the overriding concern is that numbers add up to the correct total arithmetically. Another way of looking at it is that the sacred numbers used by the Mesopotamians gave a type of religious dignity or respect to important persons or to a literary text . . . . Figurative numbers are used throughout the Old Testament, and also (but less frequently) in the New Testament.[119]

Olsen adds that: “A symbolic understanding of the patriarchal lifespans supports the antiquity of their origin, and it allows them to speak in the idiom of their day.”[120]

The name changes mark a new phase in God’s plan.
Abraham becomes “father of many,” and Sarah “princess.”
They reflect new identity, purpose, and promise.

In Genesis, God changes Abram’s name to Abraham and Sarai’s to Sarah to mark a major turning point in their story.

In the ancient Near East, a name change often signaled a new identity, role, or destiny, especially when linked to a covenant or royal purpose. Here, it reflects God’s promise that Abraham will become the father of many nations.

The meanings of the names are debated, but the shift clearly emphasizes expansion and elevation:
 – Abram becomes Abraham, linked to the idea of a multitude of descendants.
 – Sarai becomes Sarah, often understood as “princess,” highlighting her role as a mother of nations.

Importantly, Sarah’s renaming shows that she is not just secondary, but central to the promise, on equal footing with Abraham in God’s plan.

In the Qur’an, Abraham is consistently called Ibrahim, and this name change is not mentioned, so the biblical detail stands on its own within that tradition.

So the significance is not just linguistic, but theological: the new names signal a new identity, a new future, and a covenant relationship that will shape generations to come.

God changes Abram’s name to Abraham: “No longer shall your name be called Abram, but your name shall be Abraham, for I have made you the father of a multitude of nations.” (Genesis 17:5, ESV.) The meaning of both names is much debated. Christopher Eames of the Armstrong Institute of Biblical Archaeology argues that: “Abram as an East Semitic, Akkadian-Babylonian name meaning ‘Beloved Father’” while Abraham is “a West Semitic, Aramaic-inclined name meaning ‘Exalted Father.’”[121] God also changes Sarai’s name (which may have had pagan connotations) to “Sarah,” meaning “princess.”

Theologian Nahum M. Sarna observes that “Throughout the Near East the inauguration of a new era or a new state policy would frequently be marked by the assumption of a new name expressive of the change on the part of the King.”[122] In an analogous way, God’s giving of new names to Abram and Sarai suggests the inauguration of a new phase in God’s purposes that comes with the conception of their son Isaac. Islamic writer Imam Mufti comments that:

In the Qur’an, the only name given to Abraham is “Ibraheem” and “Ibrahaam”, all sharing the original root, b-r-h-m. Although in the Bible Abraham is known as Abram at first, and then God is said to change his name to Abraham, the Qur’an has kept silent on this subject, neither affirming nor negating it.[123]

The meaning of the names “Abram” and “Abraham” is a much debated issue. Christopher Eames of the Armstrong Institute of Biblical Archaeology argues that:

Abraham’s family was a West (or Northwest) Semitic family, essentially falling under the “Amorite” umbrella (at least linguistically and geographically), in native association. They were native speakers of a West Semitic language, from which was derived Aramaic, Hebrew, Arabic, etc. Abraham’s family was - as with many other “Amorites” during this specific period [2000–1600 B.C.E.] - living in the East Semitic, Akkadian-speaking Babylonian Empire initially. And Abraham’s original name, Abram, was an Akkadian name meaning something like “Beloved Father.” Following Abram’s migration west, part of the family stayed put in or around Haran . . . among fellow Aramaic-speaking, West Semitic countrymen. . . . Then, following Abram’s commanded further migration south into Canaan . . . and following his obedience to God and fulfilment of certain tests and trials, he was renamed with the West Semitic, more Aramaic-oriented name Abraham, meaning “Exalted Father,” with the promise that this patriarch would become exalted as a “father of a multitude of nations” (Genesis 17:5).[124]

Eames also considers the change of name from Sarai to Sarah:

When it comes to such a short, three-letter name as Sarai’s (שרי), it can be hard to get a fix on the accurate original meaning of the name - there is enough wiggle-room in ambiguity for endless theories . . . unless or until archaeological discovery brings further clarity to the matter. Some kind of Indo-European, Hittite linguistic or territorial connection is one option . . . . What is, at least, apparent is that Sarah’s original name, Sarai, appears to be a foreign name . . . . Thus, could it be that Sarah’s initial name, Sarai . . .  had some form of pagan, or at least negative, connotation? . . . . Thus, with the name-change of Genesis 17: At the same time that Abram became an “exalted father,” Abraham, through the promise of “many nations,” Sarai herself was similarly elevated - her former name reworked into the Semitic/Hebrew word “princess,” a royal title she was destined to fulfill over the multitude that would descend from her, as a royal “mother of nations.”[125]

As Tammi J. Schneider comments:

Sarah receives a new or corrected name, which in either case points puts her in the same category as Abraham, who recently received a new name. The deity twice states categorically that he will bless her and that she will have a son (17:16, 19). There is nothing subtle about the Deity’s intentions or stance on the matter. The text has just introduced the novel concept that Sarah’s maternity will be as important as Abraham’s paternity.[126]

“Eternal” doesn’t always mean endless.
The Hebrew word can mean a very long or undefined time.
It emphasizes lasting significance, not necessarily infinity.

The word translated “eternal” or “everlasting” in Genesis is the Hebrew word “olam.” This word does not always mean an infinite, never-ending duration in a strict sense.

Instead, “olam” refers to something beyond the horizon, either in the distant past or far into the future. It can describe a time span that is long, enduring, and significant, without clearly defining its limits.

In biblical usage, “olam” can mean:
 – A very long time
 – An enduring or lasting period
 – Or, in some contexts, true eternity

So when God makes an “eternal covenant” with Abraham, the emphasis is on the enduring and ongoing nature of the relationship and promise, rather than a precise philosophical definition of infinity.

The covenant is meant to be permanent in its significance and impact, extending far beyond Abraham’s lifetime and shaping generations.

So the key idea is not technical duration, but lasting commitment and faithfulness.

The Hebrew word “olam,” which is sometimes translated as “everlasting” or “eternal” in English, refers to the distant past or future without necessarily specifying a literally unending temporal duration.

The Hebrew word sometimes translated as “eternal” or “everlasting” in English is “olam,” a metaphorical term that encompasses a range of temporal meanings, including “long duration, antiquity, futurity . . . . time out of mind (past or future), i.e. (practically) eternity.”[127] According to Jeff A. Benner:

Hebrew words used for space are also used for time. The Hebrew word qedem means “east” but is also the same word for the “past.” The Hebrew word olam literally means “beyond the horizon.” When looking off in the far distance it is difficult to make out any details and what is beyond that horizon cannot be seen. This concept is the olam. The word olam is also used for time for the distant past or the distant future as a time that is difficult to know or perceive.[128]

Although “olam” can be used to refer to the future as “everlasting” in the sense of being a never ending, continuously increasing temporal duration, it can also refer to an unspecifically long but temporally limited span of past or future time. As Dr. Rachel Zohar Dulin explains: “olam is understood in the Bible to express long duration of time, antiquity, continued existence and even eternity or uninterrupted future . . .”[129]

The three “men” are usually understood as God and two angels.
They appear in human form to visit Abraham.
The exact identity is debated, but the message is clear.

In Genesis 18, the three “men” who visit Abraham are generally understood as God and two angels appearing in human form. The text itself later distinguishes them: two continue on to Sodom (Genesis 19:1) and are clearly called angels, while the third speaks with divine authority and is identified as the Lord.

There are different interpretations:
 – Some Jewish and early Christian traditions see all three as angels.
 – Many Christian interpreters understand one of them as God appearing in a veiled form, with the other two as angels.
 – Some later Christian readings suggest a symbolic link to the Trinity, though this is not explicit in the text.

Ancient readers likely understood this as a divine visitation, where God is present, either directly or through a representative, accompanied by heavenly messengers.

The key point is not the exact metaphysical identity, but the event itself:
 God comes near to Abraham, speaks with him, and reveals His plans.

So Episode 6 reflects a widely held interpretation: a divine encounter expressed through human-like figures, making the interaction personal and understandable.

While one of the three “men” who visit Abraham is either an appearance of “the angel of the Lord” or a veiled in-person appearance of God, the other two “men” are angels.

While some Christians have interpreted the “three men” in Genesis 18 as an Old Testament appearance of the Trinity,^[130] this would not be how the original audience of the text understood it and “forces on the text an interpretation the text itself will not yield.”[131] The Jewish Talmud identifies all three “men” as angels, as did Christian theologian Augustine of Hippo (354-430 CE). Islamic tradition “details how the angels in the form of handsome men – identified as Gabriel/Jibril, Michael/Mikal, and Israfil by Ibn Kathir – came to Abraham’s/Ibrahim’s and Sarah’s house as guests.”[132] Many Christian interpreters hold that “God appears to Abraham along with two angels, all with their glory veiled in a human form.”[133] For example, theologian Bruce K. Waltke affirms that:

This is actually the Lord and two angels (see 18:1, 10; 19:1). The later identifications of the “men” (18:10, 13, 16–17, 33; 19:1) confirm their manifest difference. One man is none other than the Lord, as 18:2–3 and especially 10, 13–15 make explicit. However, the Lord and his heavenly assembly in their incarnation appear in human form (see 16:7).[134]

John Goldingay describes this as a story about a visit “by God and by his envoys who appear in human form . . .”[135] Likewise, Victor P. Hamilton affirms that “Yahweh appears to Abraham with others at his side.”[136] An appearance of God in human form is a special form of theophany (i.e. an audio and/or visual “display to human beings that expresses the presence and character of God”^[137]). Some Christians understand this as a pre-incarnation appearance of the second person of the Trinity (a so-called Christophany^[138]), but this is something that has to be read into the text.[139]

Catholic theologian E.F. Sutcliffe, S.J. cautions that in Genesis 18: “It’s difficult to know whether Yahweh appeared in person or through the intermediary of an angel.”[140] Sutcliffe references Genesis 16:7, in which “the Angel of Yahweh” could be understood as an angelic messenger who speaks God’s words in the first person because they are acting as God’s official representative/ambassador, and who is thus functionally identified as God himself (16:13). As theologian John H. Walton points out: “in Ugaritic literature, when Baal sends messengers to Mot, the messengers use first person forms of speech.”^[141]

However one interprets this incident, the central point remains that God (whether more or less directly) reveals himself to Abraham “veiled in a human form.”[142]