For nearly thirty years on the UCLA English Department faculty I taught my flagship course, “The English Bible as Literature,” one of the most popular and highest rated courses on campus. In addition, I taught expanded versions of that course in the larger Christian community, with multiple courses throughout southern California and Arizona. In those venues I taught verse-by-verse through the entire Bible, Genesis through Revelation in 1-year, 5-year, and 7-year formats, with thousands of adult students attending each week. It was a joy, a privilege, and a great blessing to do so.
In all of my classes I took a distinctly literary approach to Scripture, teaching the Bible not as a mere anthology of ancient near-eastern texts, but as a unified literary work. Read in this way, the curtain rises in Genesis and it falls in Revelation. In between we have a linear narrative (with recapitulation), whose main character is God, whose conflict is sin, and whose theme is redemption. Along the scriptural journey we meet fascinating characters: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, and Moses; Saul, David, and a host of priests, prophets, and kings; Jesus, Peter, Andrew, James, John, and Paul; and many others, some of whom play major roles in our story, while others have minor “walk-on” roles … but are fascinating characters, nonetheless.
Taking a literary approach to Scripture enabled me to bring such characters to life, to add color, tone, and texture to their stories, to paint vivid pictures of both their successes and their failures; indeed, to make them fully human, while placing them in their proper historical, cultural, and literary contexts. Allow me to illustrate this literary approach to Scripture with the “binding of Isaac” story in Genesis 22.
The Binding of Isaac: A Quick Review
For decades Abraham and Sarah had longed for a child, to no avail. And then, suddenly, when Abraham was 100 years old and Sarah was 90, she became pregnant with Isaac! God had made a covenant with Abraham in Genesis 12 that through him all people on earth would be blessed, and it would be through his son Isaac that the promise of humanity’s redemption would be fulfilled. Then suddenly in Genesis 22 we read:
Sometime later God tested Abraham. He said to him, “Abraham!”
“Here I am,” he replied.
Then God said, “Take your son, your only son, whom you love—Isaac—and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on a mountain I will show you.”
Early the next morning Abraham got up and loaded his donkey. He took with him two of his servants and his son Isaac. When he had cut enough wood for the burnt offering, he set out for the place God had told him about.
— Gen. 22:1-3 (NIV)
This is stunning. Abraham and Sarah had longed for a child, a child promised by God, who would fulfill the covenant. Abraham had expelled Hagar and his firstborn son, Ishmael, to protect Isaac. And now God wants Abraham to kill Isaac by offering him up as a burnt offering.
And Abraham agrees to do it!
We know nothing about how he comes to that decision during the dark and dreadful night that passes. Think about that for a moment.
How to Fill in the Narrative Gaps of a Story
To understand any literary work, we have to answer several questions in the course of our reading:
- What is happening in the story?
- Why is it happening?
- What connects the present action to the preceding and following actions?
- What are the characters’ motives?
- How do they view their fellow characters?
- What are the cultural and social norms that govern the world of the narrative?
The answers given by each reader enable him or her to reconstruct the reality described by the text and to make sense of the world represented in it. Often biblical narrative provides few answers to these basic questions. In most cases, the reader provides the answers, some temporary, partial, or tentative, and others wholly and completely.
The act of reading fills in the gaps created by the narrative itself. This gap-filling may involve simply arranging textual information in a linear sequence, or it may be more complex, demanding that the reader develop an intricate network of associations, laboriously, hesitantly, and with constant modifications as additional information is disclosed at later stages in the story. The placement of the gaps and their size are a direct function of the narrator, who chooses what to tell the reader, when to tell it, how much to reveal, and in what sequence.
Narrative Gaps in the Binding of Isaac
The gaps in this story are so big that you could drive a truck through them! Look again at the first four verses in the binding of Isaac story.
We have two gigantic gaps here:
- Between verses 2 and 3, an entire night passes between God telling Abraham to sacrifice Isaac and Abraham deciding to do it.
- Between verses 3 and 4, three days pass between Abraham, Isaac, and the servants heading out in the morning and finally arriving at Mount Moriah, their destination.
One Long, Dreadful Night
What is Abraham thinking during that long, dreadful night that brings him to get up in the morning, chop enough wood to consume an entire human corpse, and head out? We can’t even begin to imagine the terror and anxiety he must have felt during that night, the doubts in his mind about God and about himself, his love for Isaac … and what he would tell Sarah?
We readers know that God makes a covenant with Abraham in Genesis 12:2–3, in which he says, “I will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse; and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you” (NIV).
We also know that the blessing will be transmitted through Isaac, not Ishmael, for when Sarah demands that Hagar and Ishmael be sent away, God says, “Do not be so distressed about the boy and your slave woman. Listen to whatever Sarah tells you, because it is through Isaac that your offspring will be reckoned” (Gen. 21:12).
We can only imagine, then, Abraham’s shock when God tells him to sacrifice Isaac, and we can only stand puzzled, jaws agape — along with Abraham — at God’s motive for issuing such a command.
Between verses 2 and 3, an entire night passes, and by morning Abraham has determined to obey God’s command. As readers, we are left to puzzle over Abraham’s thoughts during that dreadful night, to imagine the depth and pain of his struggle, and to reconstruct the reasoning that leads him to obey God’s command.
Three Long, Quiet Days
As our story continues, we read:
On the third day Abraham looked up and saw the place in the distance. He said to his servants, “Stay here with the donkey while I and the boy go over there. We will worship and then we will come back to you.”
Abraham took the wood for the burnt offering and placed it on his son Isaac, and he himself carried the fire and the knife.
— Gen. 22:4–6 (NIV)
During the three-day journey, does Abraham question his decision? Does he vacillate? Does he speak with Isaac, or does a grim silence shroud the entire three-day journey? And what is Isaac thinking?
We can only speculate and, in doing so, fill in the gaps, drawing from previous information about Abraham and his relationship with God, about his decision-making processes, and about what we have learned of Abraham’s personality. Once again we have a very sparse narrative. The three-day journey seems a silent progression through indeterminate territory, a path never before walked, “a blank duration,” as Erich Auerbach says, “between what has passed and what lies ahead.”1 The journey is positively dreamlike. We have no description of the landscape, no dialogue, no indication of tension, no passage of time — nothing.
Isaac, the Silent, Willing Victim
As Abraham and Isaac trudge together toward the mountain, there is another gap until Isaac asks, “The fire and the wood are here, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?” (Gen. 22:7). At this, Abraham’s composure cracks. He replies, “God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son” (v. 8)
In a dazzling moment of grammatical ambiguity, our narrator strikes a near-fatal blow to Abraham’s resolve, when we are unable to tell if — grammatically — “my son” is an appositive or a vocative; that is, whether God will provide an offering other than Isaac, or God will provide “my son Isaac!”
Isaac is with Abraham on the journey, but like the journey itself, we know virtually nothing about him. We last saw Isaac when he was weaned in the previous chapter, and now we see him again here; we have nothing in between but a gap.
In the very next chapter, we learn that Sarah dies at 127 years old (Gen. 23:1). Since Isaac was born when Sarah was ninety, he is thirty-seven when his mother dies, perhaps placing him during the journey to Mount Moriah in his early thirties, for he could not have carried a huge load of wood up a mountain if he were a mere child. And notice that aside from asking where the lamb is, Isaac has nothing to say as he allows himself to be bound and offered for sacrifice. He is a willing, silent victim.
But notice that Abraham says, “We will worship and then we will come back to you” (v. 5). If Abraham is going to sacrifice the thirtysomething Isaac, what’s with the “we will come back to you”?
When they reached the place God had told him about, Abraham built an altar there and arranged the wood on it. He bound his son Isaac and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood. Then he reached out his hand and took the knife to slay his son. But the angel of the Lord called out to him from heaven, “Abraham! Abraham!”
“Here I am,” he replied.
“Do not lay a hand on the boy,” he said. “Do not do anything to him. Now I know that you fear God, because you have not withheld from me your son, your only son.”
Abraham looked up and there in a thicket he saw a ram caught by its horns. He went over and took the ram and sacrificed it as a burnt offering instead of his son.
— Gen. 22:9–13 (NIV)
How Narrative Gaps Increase the Bible’s Depth and Complexity
The deliberate gaps and ambiguity sown throughout Scripture enable exceedingly complex character development and a wide range of interpretation across the span of the biblical narrative, something that oral storytelling cannot do.
For example, if we read the binding of Isaac story within the broader context of the Christian canon of Scripture, we find interpretative clues to its deeper meaning within that context, meaning that we would not have found otherwise. When Abraham says to his servants, “We will worship and then we will come back to you,” the epistle to the Hebrews in the New Testament picks up on it and understands, in light of the Christian experience, that:
“By faith Abraham, when God tested him, offered Isaac as a sacrifice. He who had embraced the promises was about to sacrifice his one and only son, even though God had said to him, ‘It is through Isaac that your offspring will be reckoned.’ Abraham reasoned that God could raise the dead, and so in a manner of speaking he did receive Isaac back from death.” (Heb. 11:17–19, NIV)
The Binding of Isaac and the Passion of Jesus: Intertextual Parallels
From this perspective, we can see intertextual parallels in the story of the binding of Isaac to the story of Jesus in the Gospels:
- Abraham offers his only son as a sacrifice; God offers his only son as a sacrifice.
- Isaac is to be sacrificed in the region of Moriah; Jesus is sacrificed in the region of Moriah (see 2 Chron. 3:1).
- Isaac carries the wood of the fire for his own sacrifice; Jesus carries the wood of the cross for his own sacrifice.
- Abraham is told, “God will provide the lamb” for the sacrificial offering; God provides Jesus, the “Lamb of God,” for the sacrificial offering.
- Isaac is a young man when Abraham offers him as a sacrifice; Jesus is a young man when God offers him as a sacrifice.
What Happened After the Binding?
As insightful readers we must ponder the story’s conclusion, probing the ongoing relationships among Abraham, Sarah, and Isaac.
Throughout the entire story and what follows, Abraham and Sarah never speak to one another, nor is there ever a conversation between Abraham and Isaac. In fact, in Genesis 23:19 we’re told that Sarah dies and is buried in Kirath Arba (Hebron), about 32 miles northeast of Beersheba, where Abraham lives. And we’re also told that Isaac lives in Beer-lahai-roi, about 50 miles south of Beersheba … and he lives alone in his deceased mother’s tent (Gen. 24:67).
Apparently, the “binding of Isaac” episode alienated Abraham’s entire family from one other, for they live in separate locations (something unheard of in biblical times, for a large, extended family ensured safety and prosperity), and as far as Scripture is concerned, they never speak to each another again.
After Sarah’s death Abraham then marries Keturah, who bears him six sons: Zinran, Jokshan, Medan, Midian, Ishbak, and Shuah. In turn, Jokshan fathers Sheba and Dedan, and Dedan’s descendants are the Ashurites, the Letushites, and the Leummites; while Midian’s sons are Ephah, Epher, Hanok, Abida, and Eldaah. Finally, Abraham dies at 175 years old, and we’re told that the estranged brothers, Isaac and Ishmael (whose mother was Hagar), bury him in Hebron alongside Sarah (Gen. 25:1-4).
Conclusion: The Intricate Fabric of Scripture
The binding of Isaac story illustrates the dazzling narrative skill of the author who weaves the intricate fabric of this story, a story that could not be told orally around a primitive campfire late at night, while gnawing on roasted goat bones. It can only be told as literature crafted by an extremely talented author and read by an attentive, educated reader who understands the subtle rhetorical, stylistic, and grammatical nuances that enable the story. As a result, the binding of Isaac story holds an honored and secure position in the larger canon of biblical literature, a position it has secured by the shear genius of its composition.
Learn how to read the Bible as literature and fall in love with God’s Word.
We all want to read the Bible verse-by-verse, cover-to-cover, but what happens when you can’t get past Leviticus or bog down and quit in Chronicles? How can you make the journey through the Bible spring to life with unforgettable characters, drama, and glittering poetry and prose?
In Reading the Bible: A Literary Guide to Scripture, Dr. Bill Creasy leads you on an unforgettable adventure book-by-book, Genesis through Revelation. Stemming from his popular course at UCLA, The English Bible as Literature, this work delves deeply into the text of the Bible, unveiling its rich literary genres and ancient Near Eastern origins.
This book and its companion, Reading the Bible Study Guide, are perfect for group Bible study programs in churches, schools, and seminaries.
- Erich Auerbach, Mimesis: The Representation of Reality in Western Literature, new and exp. ed. (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2013), 10. ↩︎
Dr. Bill Creasy served on the UCLA English Department faculty for nearly 30 years where he taught his flagship course, The English Bible as Literature. Recognized as among the top 2% of educators in the nation, Dr. Creasy’s verse-by-verse teaching through the entire Bible on Audible.com has garnered tens of thousands of 5-star reviews and he has led his students on over one hundred teaching tours to the Holy Land. You can visit him at his website, logosbiblestudy.com.
