Abraham’s Sons

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In the Book of Genesis, Abraham leads his beloved son Isaac up Mt. Moriah and prepares to sacrifice him at God’s command. In Muslim tradition, Ishmael is the near-victim. Jews, Christians and Muslims all trace their roots back to Abraham—but not through the same son: Ishmael is the traditional ancestor of the Arabs, especially Muslims, while Isaac is the forebear of Jews and Christians.

This is, of course, a simplified reading of the history of these peoples. Yet the common history, similar beliefs and shared traditions of Jews, Christians and Muslims suggest that the members of these three faiths are indeed relatives, even if distant ones. The sad fact is that for a long time two sides of this large extended family have rarely been on speaking terms, and when they have communicated, they have not had many nice things to say to each other. Their infrequent conversations have tended to repudiate, rather than celebrate, their common heritage.

The sacred texts of this family, the Bible and Qur’an (often spelled Koran), have been used to further estrange its members. The Bible and Qur’an are often pitted against each other to bolster the claims of one side and negate the claims of the other.

But when we begin to compare Abraham, Isaac and Ishmael in the Qur’an and the Hebrew Bible, we find that despite some striking differences, their stories still have much in common. For Bible readers, an exploration of these similarities and divergences not only reveals what is distinctive about the Qur’an and Islam but sheds unexpected light on the biblical text.

The Genesis account of Isaac’s near-death experience 018is undoubtedly one of the most dramatic, intense and famous scenes in all of biblical literature.^a As recorded in Genesis 22, at God’s command Abraham leads his beloved son Isaac up Mt. Moriah, builds an altar, lays his son on it and prepares to sacrifice him. When Isaac innocently asks, “Where is the lamb for the burnt offering?” Abraham replies, “God himself will provide the lamb” (Genesis 22:7, 8).

Abraham raises his knife, but before the blade falls, an angel of the Lord cries out, “Abraham, Abraham! Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me” (Genesis 22:12). Abraham looks up and spies a ram caught in a thicket and sacrifices the animal in Isaac’s place.

Then the Lord, speaking through the angel, promises Abraham: “Because you have done this, and have not withheld your son, your only son, I will indeed bless you, and I will make your offspring as numerous as the stars of heaven and as the sand on the seashore” (Genesis 23:17).

This covenant, God has already informed Abraham, will live on through Isaac (Genesis 17:19).

Readers familiar with the biblical version of this story may find the Qur’an’s condensed version difficult to follow. The story begins with Abraham praying for a faithful child, a prayer that is granted. But Abraham has a troubling premonition: He must sacrifice the child.

The boy in the Qur’an account is unnamed. Only in later Muslim tradition, as we shall see, is he identified. Allah (the Arabic term for God) is referred to in the first person plural “We,” as is common throughout the Qur’an. This in no way violates the monotheistic belief of Islam but is an example of the “divine we” used to elevate and exalt the deity. A similar convention is found in Genesis, when God says, “Let us make humankind in our image” (Genesis 1:26).

The entire near-sacrifice passage, found in suµra (chapter) 37 of the Qur’an, reads:

(Abraham prayed,) “My Lord, grant me one from among the righteous.” So We [Allah] gave him the good news of a mild-tempered son. When he [the son] was old enough to work with him he [Abraham] said, “Oh, my son, I have dreamed that I should sacrifice you. What do you think of that?”

He [The son] said, “Oh, my father, do what you have been commanded. If Allah wills, you will find 019me patient.” When they both submitted and he [Abraham] threw him [the son] face down, We called to him, “Oh, Abraham, you have fulfilled the dream. Thus do We reward those who do good.” Truly, that was a clear test and We ransomed him with a great sacrifice. Through the succeeding generations We left upon him the salutation: “Peace be upon Abraham!” Thus do We reward those who do good. Truly, he was among our believing servants. And We gave him the good news of Isaac a prophet from among the righteous.

(Qur’an 37:100–112)^b

The passage shares the same basic plot with the Genesis narrative: Abraham prays for and is granted a son. He receives a divine command to sacrifice the child. He prepares to comply but is stopped just in time and is blessed. Beyond this, however, the accounts in Genesis and in the Qur’an vary in some important ways.

Bible readers may find the Qur’an version choppy and difficult to follow. The birth of the son is immediately followed by the sacrifice account. We learn nothing of the years between. Furthermore, the near-sacrifice is not told as part of a larger story concerning Abraham’s family. The Qur’an discusses only a few incidents in Abraham’s life, including the near-sacrifice, and these episodes are scattered throughout the book.

The Qur’an does not begin with the creation of the world and then recount history in chronological order. It arranges its material in a different way, often grouping together passages with common themes. The Qur’an’s account of the near-sacrifice, for example, is immediately followed by pronouncements concerning Moses, Elijah, Lot and Jonah (in that order). The theme that 020unites all of these individuals is their fidelity to the divine will, for which they receive blessings in return. In the Qur’an, Abraham’s trust in Allah is being compared to the responses of these other figures who endure their own tests.

In its narrative sections, the Qur’an is less concerned with recounting history or telling a good story than with making a specific point. Only those narrative elements needed to teach that particular lesson are included. Seemingly extraneous details are left out. Once the point has been made, the text shifts to another, sometimes unrelated, issue. For Bible readers, these very details are what make the Genesis story so compelling. The tension builds as we read of Abraham cutting the wood, loading the donkey, summoning his servants, traveling for three days, building an altar and finally wielding the knife above his son. None of this appears in the Qur’an.

Perhaps the most noticeable “missing” detail in the Qur’an for the Bible reader is the name of the boy who 021undergoes this near-death experience. For centuries, Muslim commentators have debated his identity.

Early on, most Muslim scholars favored the view that Isaac was the intended victim. For example, there is an early Islamic tradition that says Ali and Umar, two of the caliphs who led the Muslim community soon after Muhammad’s death, claimed that Isaac was the son who was nearly sacrificed.

Eventually, a shift in thinking occurred that saw Ishmael as the near-sacrifice, and this is the dominant view among Muslims today. The precise reason for this change is hard to determine, but it does not appear to be a reaction to the biblical identification of the son as Isaac. There were, to be sure, some stories among early Muslims that the Jews had substituted Isaac’s name for Ishmael’s in the Bible. But many scholars think the shift reflects Arab tensions with the Persian, rather than the Jewish, community. Al-Mas‘udi, a tenth-century Muslim historian, cites a Persian poet from his time 022who claims his lineage is superior to that of the Arabs because Persians are descended from Isaac, “the victim.”

Many look to the Qur’an passage to determine the identity of the boy. Some see the passage’s final verse—“And We gave him the good news of Isaac a prophet from among the righteous”—as the key. But here, too, there is a degree of ambiguity.

The phrase “good news” is used to announce several births in the Qur’an, including those of John the Baptist and Jesus. Here Allah is announcing to Abraham that his wife will give birth to Isaac. If we read the entire passage sequentially, with the announcement of Isaac following the near-sacrifice, then we must identify the unnamed son as Ishmael. Isaac cannot be the intended victim because he wasn’t born yet. But the announcement at the end of the quoted passage can also be read as a sort of summary of the events that have just been discussed. If so, Isaac is probably the anonymous near-victim. Another clue in favor of Isaac is the use of the term “righteous” to describe the unnamed son in the first verse and Isaac in the last. But in the end, the Qur’an simply does not provide enough information to make a positive identification of the boy.

A more intriguing question might be why the Qur’an does not name the son. Why was this detail—so critical to the biblical passage—considered insignificant in the Qur’an? What does this difference tell us about the way the near-sacrifice story functions in the Judeo-Christian and Islamic traditions?

In the Bible, Isaac, and not Ishmael, is the son through whom God’s covenant with Abraham will 023continue. God tells Abraham:

Your wife Sarah shall bear you a son and you shall name him Isaac. I will establish my covenant with him as an everlasting covenant for his offspring after him.

(Genesis 17:19)

Isaac’s momentous role in the history of Israel is highlighted throughout Genesis, which revels in the details of his life: We learn of his birth and youth, and of his father’s prodigious efforts to marry him to a kinswoman. We read of Isaac’s first meeting with Rebecca and their subsequent marriage, of the birth of their sons Jacob and Esau, and of Jacob’s deception of his aged father. The rest of the Book of Genesis is the story of Isaac’s sons and his sons’ sons. “This is the story of Isaac,” the biblical author tells us in Genesis 25:19.

All this is threatened, however, when God commands Abraham to sacrifice Isaac. That the covenant is in jeopardy is emphasized immediately before and after the near-sacrifice when Isaac is strangely referred to as Abraham’s only son (Genesis 22:2, 12). What happened to Ishmael? Is he no longer Abraham’s son? Furthermore, after Abraham passes the gruesome test, God must reinstate the covenant: “Because you…have not withheld your son, your only son, I will indeed bless you” (Genesis 22:16–17).

In Genesis, Ishmael is the son not chosen. In comparison with his half-brother, Isaac, he leads a shadowy existence. From the outset, his position in the family is ambiguous since his mother, Hagar, is the maidservant of Abraham’s wife, Sarah. Even before he is born, his pregnant mother is forced to temporarily flee into the wilderness to escape the anger of her mistress (Genesis 16). This foreshadows the permanent separation that occurs when Sarah convinces Abraham to banish Hagar and Ishmael after the birth of Isaac (Genesis 21:8–21). Ishmael is cut off from the family and forced to lead a nomadic existence: “He lived in the wilderness and became an expert with the bow” (Genesis 21:20). His marriage further distances him from the family: “His mother got a wife for him from the land of Egypt” (Genesis 21:21). He remains absent from the biblical account until the death of Abraham, when the elder son returns home to perform his filial duty and, with Isaac, bury Abraham. This is the only contact the adult Ishmael has with his family.

Their children, too, remain apart. Isaac becomes the ancestor of the Israelites through his son Jacob. Ishmael’s descendants, the Ishmaelites, settle “from Havilah to Shur, which is opposite Egypt in the direction of Assyria” (Genesis 25:18)—that is, in Arabia.

Not so in the Qur’an, which makes no suggestion whatever that the sons of Abraham gave rise to an ethnic or religious divide. Rather, the two sons are united in the Qur’an through their common faith and their family ties as sons of Abraham. Both are recognized as links in a chain of prophets that extends from Abraham through Jesus to Muhammad. Each of these prophets received special revelation from Allah for the benefit of humanity. This idea is reflected in a passage that reads: “Say, ‘We believe in Allah, what has been revealed to us, what was revealed to Abraham, Ishmael, Isaac, Jacob and the tribes and what was given to Moses, Jesus and the prophets from their Lord. We do not make a distinction among any of them and to Him we submit’” (Qur’an 3:84).

There is no rift between Ishmael and Isaac in the Qur’an. Ishmael and his mother are never banished to the wilderness.^c Indeed, his mother is never mentioned. In the Qur’an it appears that Ishmael and Isaac have the same mother. It is only extra-Qur’anic sources that identify Ishmael’s mother as Hagar. Ishmael is not a shadowy or dark figure: We learn more about him than about his brother. But this does not mean he is favored by Allah. Rather, both brothers are esteemed equally in the Qur’an. Neither is the sole heir to God’s blessing.

Similarly, there is no suggestion in the Qur’an of a chosen people set apart to enjoy a special relationship with Allah. Islam maintains that all people are born Muslims (“submitters” to the divine will). It is impossible for Allah to choose some for salvation while excluding the rest. Each person must freely choose either to accept the message and surrender to the divine will or to decline. Those who do accept are considered offspring of Abraham; those who do not join the ranks of the unbelievers. The choice is up to the individual, not Allah.

The name of Abraham’s son is not included in the Qur’an’s version of the near-sacrifice because it is irrelevant. Each son is a model of faith, held up for the reader. Either would play the same role in this story. The important thing is that Abraham was willing to sacrifice a son—which one doesn’t matter.

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Even though the name of the son is deemed unimportant in the Qur’an, other details about him—details absent from the biblical record—are not.

The most important detail we are given is that at the time of the near-sacrifice the son was “old enough to work with his father” (Qur’an 37:102). The Arabic word for this concept, sa‘ya, can mean “to be active or busy” or “able to engage in an activity with energy.” But it also can mean “to act according to one’s own judgment, discretion or free will.” Thus, the son is not only physically mature enough to work with his father, he is also mentally able to do so. He has reached the age of reason. The son exhibits this very quality when Abraham asks him for his opinion of the troubling dream.

A model of piety, the son surrenders himself to the will of Allah. “Oh, my father, do what you have been commanded.” Abraham might have been uncertain about what he should do, but he follows his son’s lead and concludes that if Allah has commanded the sacrifice, it must be carried out. The text goes on to say, “They both submitted.” This gets right at the heart of the message of this Qur’an passage. Taking Abraham and his son as models, all people must respond immediately and faithfully to the divine will. This is the only way to stay on the straight path of submission to God.

The Qur’an agrees with the Bible that the near-sacrifice is a divine test, but it is not clear in the Qur’an who is being tested. By interpreting his father’s dream as a command from Allah, Abraham’s son took the initial leap of faith that allowed both father and son to respond as ideal Muslims and submit themselves entirely. We should not overlook the fact that the son passed the test first.

Preachers and teachers of the Bible frequently turn to Genesis 22 for insight into Abraham’s character. The Qur’an’s condensed account, in which father and son play equal parts, invites us to reread the Genesis account through the son’s eyes. Is the biblical version a testing of both father and son? Does the Genesis story tell us anything about the son’s belief in God? Does Isaac in any way help bring Abraham to faith?

In truth, we have very little idea in Genesis of what Isaac is thinking or feeling as the events unfold. The preponderance of narrative detail concerns Abraham; the son retreats into the background as a necessary but nondescript figure. But there is more to Isaac’s character than initially meets the eye.

We know that Isaac is physically mature: He is strong enough to carry the wood for the sacrifice some distance up Mt. Moriah. But is he as mentally mature as the son in the Qur’an? The fact that Abraham says he and Isaac will worship on the mountain (Genesis 22:5) is one indication that the son has reached the age of reason. A careful reading of the text uncovers other factors pointing in the same direction.

In the Qur’an, Abraham asks his son about the dream he has had: “What do you think of that?” In responding, the son expresses his own faith in Allah and challenges his father to adopt the same posture of trust and confidence. This is the only conversation between the two that the text relates.

Interestingly, Genesis 22 also reports only one verbal encounter between father and son and it, too, is in the form of a question and answer. But here it is the son who asks the question: “Isaac said to his father, Abraham, ‘Father!’ And he said, ‘Here I am my son.’ He said, ‘The fire and the wood are here, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?’ Abraham said, ‘God himself will provide the lamb for a burnt offering, my son’” (Genesis 22:7–8).

This is not idle chitchat. It is the only time Isaac speaks in Genesis 22, and his words indicate that he is able to evaluate his situation through observation and reason, just like the son in the Qur’an. Furthermore, of the many speeches Abraham makes in this chapter, this is the only one in which he explicitly articulates his faith in God. So, in both the Bible and the Qur’an, the son’s words serve as the catalyst that brings the father to faith.

Is there any other hint that the biblical Abraham is transformed by Isaac’s words? Before climbing the mountain, Abraham instructs the young men traveling with him, 046“Stay here with the donkey; the boy and I will go over there; we will worship, and then we will come back to you” (Genesis 22:5). His statement is a curious one, given Abraham’s foreknowledge of what is supposed to happen on the mountain.

Perhaps Abraham knew that God would intervene and would not allow him to kill his son. But, then, how is this episode a test? Or perhaps Abraham did not yet believe he was capable of carrying out the divine command. If the latter is true, then Abraham is still struggling with the divine command when Isaac asks about the lamb.

Isaac’s poignant question—“But where is the lamb?” (Genesis 22:7)—is then the turning point in Abraham’s quest. Prior to this we can discern hesitancy on Abraham’s part; afterwards he publicly expresses his trust in God and does all he can to fulfill the divine will. This dimension of the biblical story might easily escape our notice were it not for its high profile in the Qur’an.

Putting the two sides of Abraham’s family in conversation with each other can often lead to such insights. Both texts present the episode as a lesson in faith, but in very different ways. In the Bible, this story is intimately tied to the theme of covenant. Isaac is essential for the realization of God’s promise and when Abraham is asked to sacrifice him the future of the covenant is jeopardized. This is not the case in the Qur’an, where Abraham and his son are presented as model believers. They faithfully submit themselves to the divine will and are examples for future generations to do the same.

This article is based on John Kaltner, Ishmael Instructs Isaac: An Introduction to the Qur’an for Bible Readers (Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 1999).

In the Book of Genesis, Abraham leads his beloved son Isaac up Mt. Moriah and prepares to sacrifice him at God’s command. In Muslim tradition, Ishmael is the near-victim. Jews, Christians and Muslims all trace their roots back to Abraham—but not through the same son: Ishmael is the traditional ancestor of the Arabs, especially Muslims, while Isaac is the forebear of Jews and Christians. This is, of course, a simplified reading of the history of these peoples. Yet the common history, similar beliefs and shared traditions of Jews, Christians and Muslims suggest that the members of these three faiths […]