Abraham, Abimelech, and Ahmaud Arbery

Photo of Ahmaud Arbery

Photo of Ahmaud Arbery

Genesis 20 tells the story of Abraham and his wife, Sarah, travelling to Gerar. Abraham, fearing the men will kill him in order to take Sarah for themselves, convinces his wife to present herself as his sister. In a short while word of Sarah’s beauty spreads, and along with it the lie that she is not Abraham’s wife but his sister. The king of Gerar, a man called Abimelech, brings her into his household. We can imagine Abraham, borrowing from the mouth of Job: “What I always feared has happened to me. What I dreaded has come true” (Job 3:25). The night Abimelech brings Sarah into his home the Lord appears to him and says, “Behold, you are a dead man because of the woman whom you have taken, for she is a man’s wife” (Genesis 20:3). Here we witness the power of one seemingly isolated event, Abraham and Sarah’s deception, affecting an entire community. Abimelech’s entire household pays for this indiscretion: “For the Lord had closed all the wombs of the house of Abimelech because of Sarah, Abraham’s wife” (Genesis 20:18).

After Abimelech tells God he acted innocently and was deceived, God tells him to return Sarah to Abraham. There Abimelech confronts Abraham: “What have you done to us? And how have I sinned against you, that you have brought on me and my kingdom a great sin? You have done to me things that ought not to be done. And Abimelech said to Abraham, ‘What did you see, that you did this thing?’” (Genesis 20:9-10, italics added).

I was struck by Abimelech’s question: What did you see, that you did this thing?

The question is surgical. It goes right to the root of the matter. Abimelech seeks the motivation behind Abraham’s action: what is the fuel that powers his fear and ultimately leads both men into the bondage of sin? This inner knowledge is essential. Modifying behavior without dealing with the interior motives of the heart is like using air freshener in a dirty room. You may temporarily mask the problem, but if you want the reality of cleanliness, you must reveal and remove what is unclean. Abimelech’s question does this in Abraham.

Hatred is cowardly. The person being groomed to hate is formed within a context where voicing unjust bias is tacitly or explicitly acceptable. Most families are aware of the uncle, or cousin, or whomever, who is racist, or sexist, or xenophobic. Often it’s in the private context of friend and family gatherings that we tolerate prejudicial perspectives simply to avoid conflict and keep the peace. Consider the case of NASCAR driver Kyle Larson who, while playing video games online in a group he believed to be a private, and “safe” environment, used the N-word in conversation with a fellow gamer. Would he have used that word if he thought that the world was listening? 

It was while reflecting on Abimelech’s question that I began thinking about the events that lead to the death of Ahmaud Arbery in Glynn County, Georgia. I wondered what the two white men who confronted Arbery with weapons drawn while he was running down the street would say if they were asked the Abimelech question, “What did you see, that you did this thing?” A few days later I read a story about a black delivery-driver making a delivery in an affluent neighborhood in Oklahoma. A white resident blocked his path for over an hour demanding to know what he was doing in that neighborhood. How would this white resident answer Abimelech’s question?

But it occurs to me that asking the Abimelech question after a grievous deed is done, while therapeutically helpful, is too late. Irreversible decisions have been made, and the consequences cannot be undone. No matter how the killers of Ahmaud Arbery answer the question, he will never return home. No matter how the white resident questioning the black delivery-driver answers the question, the scar of mistrust will be there. No matter how Officer Derek Chauvin answers the Abimelech question, George Floyd’s daughter will still grow up without her dad.

What if we asked the question before? What if, to go back to Genesis 20, it wasn’t Abimelech asking the question, but someone in Abraham’s household? Imagine, as he’s formulating the plan to deceive the people of Gerar, someone says, “Abraham, what do you see in the people of Gerar that you would do this?” 

Perhaps there is someone out there right now who remembers hearing Ahmaud Arbery’s killers making prejudiced comments about black people. It could be something as simple as seeing some black kids hanging out and saying something like, “Those kids are up to no good.” This is conjecture, of course.  Yet moments like this are common and this is when Abimelech’s question is most needed to disrupt a toxic thought process and potentially affirm ideas that lead to different behavior. In other words, the question creates obstruction needed to interrupt the growth of hate. 

The power of the Abimelech question is its potential to disrupt poisonous beliefs and thought processes that may turn toxic ideas into tragic reality. Hate and prejudice are like weeds. Without an intentionally disruptive act, they will take over. They don’t need positive affirmation to thrive. The lack of obstruction will do, and whenever something hateful is voiced without being challenged, an environment for growth is created.

I imagine we all know someone who has voiced dehumanizing perspectives about a certain group of people or person. I challenge each of us no longer to allow those individuals speaking to  believe we agree with them by remaining silent. We can do this simply by asking, “What do you see, that you are saying this thing?” Love of God and neighbor and responsibility to our communities compel us to do so.

Asking this question in pivotal moments may help someone see the problem is not necessarily with the person who is perceived, but with the perceiver. As Rabbi Shemuel ben Nachmani said long ago, “We do not see things as they are. We see things as we are.” To ask someone Abimelech’s question is to help them see correctly; it is an act of love. The Bible says, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18). By God’s grace I will no longer be fearfully silent when I know that I should speak.

This means a lot more to me now than it did a few years ago. I am the father of 5 growing, beautiful black children. I know their race blinds some to their childlike innocence. Indeed, right now some people may see my kids doing things that all normal kids do, and, because they are black, think that they are up to no good. This is the concern of many parents of black or brown children around the country. It is not unfounded. There is a plethora of data that supports this. Young black men are often associated with the presence of perceived crime. Black men are often seen as being bigger, stronger, and more violent than other men. And on and on it goes. 

When someone has a perception problem, the loving thing to do is to help them see properly.  We must help people, especially those who utter racist, sexist, xenophobic, or other kinds of degrading remarks, by asking them Abimelech’s question. “What did you see, that you did, said, thought, tweeted, emailed, texted, or suggested this thing?” This small act may alter the course of someone’s future for the better.

Meshach Kanyion is an elder in the West Ohio Conference of The United Methodist Church. He serves at Friendship UMC in Cincinnati, OH, blogs at www.mkanyion.com, and vlogs at www.youtube.com/shach84.