Sunday, January 24, 2010

The Life of a Slave in Ancient Times - Hagar

A great way to understand the Book of Genesis is to step into the shoes of each character - the good ones and the bad ones.  Try to understand and make sense out of everything each character did.

Another important point in reading Genesis is to put aside our 20th Century morals and ideas of right and wrong, because this gets in the way of understanding the text and realizing that the values of that time differed from our own.  Let's face it, how many of us would have have sex with our father-in-law in order to have a child and in so doing be deemed a fine example of morality?  Or how many, like Lot's daughters, would get dad drunk to get children by him?  These women did what they needed to get children - and that was what was important.

Finally, it is imperative to let go of preconceived notions that say because someone is chosen of God, he/she is an example of good morality.  This assumption makes nice well behaved models out of people who in reality were not always nice and not always so well behaved.  And by turning these people into ideal saints, we strip them from their humanity and their faults as humans, and we end up clothing them with garments of 20th Century morality and ideals.

The life of Hagar begins in Egypt where you will begin to look at her place in Genesis through her eyes.

IF YOU WERE HAGAR

You were a slave which meant one of several possibilities:

1. Your parents were slaves and you had little or no hope of ever being anything but a slave. Even as a child your purpose in life was to serve somebody who could afford to keep you. When you were old enough to be on your own you were permanently ripped away from your parents to serve another person or family. Your body and your time belonged to the person or persons who owned you.

2. You were sold into slavery by parents who could not afford to keep you. For their own survival and yours you were sold to become the property of others. It may be that your parents were also sold into slavery, but as a child you were the first to go. You probably never saw your parents or the rest of your family since.

3. You were taken by a band of kidnappers and murderers. A group of people came into your village or to your farm and they slaughtered many around you and took some of you as slaves.

There are I suppose, other possibilities, but every one of them would be unacceptable for any 20th Century American. We value freedom and have grown up with it. In some countries such as Sudan, kidnapping and slavery still continues.

Here then is the story of Hagar.

Either you grew up in Egypt or you were brought to one of the cities where buying and selling of slaves was commonplace. With other slaves you were brought to the market at a young age, perhaps 8 - 12 years old. You are bought by people high up in the government and are brought into Pharoah's palace. For all the bad things that have happened to you in life, being in a palace guarentees a decent life of food and a place to stay, but you have no hope of romance and the few servant boys you find attractive are off limits.

Eventually Pharoah gives you to an older man and his wife. They are nomads (wanderers) who tend sheep and goats. You enter their world and their language which is unfamiliar to you.

You become the slave of the old woman who is unhappy with life because she can't have children. The husband wants a child, but realizes it will never happen with her; and this strains their relationship.  From time to time, when they enter large cities, the old man tries to trick the locals into thinking his wife is only his sister.  You wonder if he wants someone else to take her away from him.

One day, with little or no notice you are brought into the old man's tent and he has sex with you and you become pregnant. Any sense of violation is overcome by the pregnancy that results, because it gives you a sense of entitlement. You did what the old lady could not - you got pregnant and it makes you feel good about yourself. You begin to allow yourself feelings that you may rise above slavery.

You no longer respect the lady who owns you.  In fact, you despise her - she is an unhappy barren woman who is not good enough for her husband. You are better.

Seeing your new attitude, the lady becomes even more cruel toward you than she had ever been. She despises you and is very harsh with you, so you run away into the desert knowing that the desert is certain death.

In the desert an angel comes to you and tells you that your child will become a nation - it is the biggest honor anybody could ask for. The angel also tells you to go back and face the lady and serve her. So you go back.

The old man (Abraham) loves your child because it is also his.  You endure the lady's hatred because you know one day that your child will own everything in the camp; but the day comes when his old wife gets pregnant and then has a child.  Your dreams for your child face constant threat, but you know that your child is preferred by the old man, and you see that there is something different about the old lady's child.  Her child may have been a miracle, but your child is smarter, more aggressive, better, and more loved by the old man.

But when your teenaged son makes fun of the new child, despite the fact that you know that Abraham loves your child more, his wife convinces him to send you and your child out into the wilderness and to your death with only enough food and water to survive a few days.

When all the water is used up, you and your son give up all hope and cry. Again an angel helps you out by showing you where there is water and once again telling you that your son will become a great nation. For years you stay in the desert with your son who eventually marries an Egyptian woman (probably one of her own kind of people) and your son and his wife take care of you.  And for the rest of your life, you live as a free woman, no longer serving others, but others (your son and his wife) serve you and take care of you, because they love you - well... at least your son loves you.

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