5

THREAT AND PROMISE

… and he died in Haran.

Genesis¹

When Abraham, Sarah, Terah, and Lot reached Harran, they would have seen a cluster of houses constructed of sun-dried brick and shaped like old-fashioned beehives, a type of construction that had been popular for at least ten thousand years. The origin of the shape is credited to the volcanic eruption of Erciyes Daği (Mt. Argaeus) in central Turkey sixty million years ago. Lava spread out and covered the land in a deep circle eighty miles wide. Wind and water gradually eroded the lava “but as always in nature, unevenly: hard basaltic rocks littering the valley floor protected the softer volcanic stone directly beneath, leaving conical pillars standing like sentinels as the surrounding plain weathered away. Early Anatolian man hollowed out the cones by patient chiseling with flint and copper tools, and they became snug and secure habitations …”²

Later generations copied the shape of the cones when building their own mud brick homes because the design was extremely practical for a desert climate. The conical roof shed rainwater in a flash, before it could seep into the bricks and soften them. The interior dome allowed hot air to rise away from the living area during the day, but at night the thick walls released the sun’s stored heat and warmed those sleeping inside. Small homes would have just a single dome, but larger ones might have several, each with one or two rooms beneath it. While outdoor temperatures ranged from 60°F at night to 110°F or more at noon, the interior of a beehive house stayed at a comfortable 75°F–85°F.³

Although the town of Harran was not, in 2000 BC, the extensive and cosmopolitan city it would eventually become, its people were already deeply involved in worshipping a moon god who had the memorable name of Sin. The veneration of Sin was destined to continue for centuries, surviving the influences of succeeding waves of conquerors. Various groups of Mesopotamians—Akkadians, Babylonians, and Assyrians—took turns occupying the city until it passed into Persian rule when the Medes (Iranians) conquered the area in the sixth century BC. After that, control of the city bounced back and forth among the Persians, the Greeks, and the Romans.

The town’s devotion to Sin remained and flourished from generation to generation and century to century, thanks in large part to the way that both priests and believers were willing to adopt new ideas and images from conquering rulers without actually converting. For instance, they adopted the goddess Ningal from Ur, but then they married her to Sin and put her in a separate temple. When the Zoroastrian Persians were in power, Sin’s adherents accepted the idea of ethical dualism (the battle between good and evil) from Zoroastrianism and wove it into their own view of the cosmos. These stalwart worshippers may even have borrowed a few things from Hinduism, for old records indicated that the inhabitants of Harran somehow obtained an “Idol of the Water” from India and mounted it in a special temple to the east of the city.⁴

Christian missionaries made some converts among the citizens of Harran in the years following Jesus’ death and constructed a sturdy basilica, but again, most of the local power continued to be held by priests at the temple of Sin. The greatest threat to the continuation of the cult of the moon god came in the ninth century AD when an invading Muslim army gave residents a choice of conversion or death. According to one account, the priests of Sin placated the invaders by appropriating for themselves the Qur’ánic label of Sabians,^* mentioned by Muḥammad as acceptable believers in God, while simultaneously praying for the destruction of the mosque and continuing to worship Sin.

Harran’s strength and religious dedication continued until AD 1000 or so, when the flow from underground aquifers lessened, probably due to increased irrigation of farms, orchards, and gardens in the broad Jullab-Balikh valley. After Mongol raiders sacked Harran in 1259, the upstream town of Urfa underwent a growth spurt and diverted ever greater amounts of the valley’s water for its own use. In time, the Jullab River, on which Harran had depended, shriveled into an insignificant arroyo, flowing only during rainstorms, and the formerly sweet wells of the city of the moon god degenerated into brackish sinkholes. When Lawrence of Arabia visited the ruins of Harran in 1911, dining on cucumbers, bread, and mulberries with the local sheikh, the water he drank had to be hauled from a well that lay a mile away.⁵

The reliable well from which Lawrence’s water came was named, according to his diary, after Rebekah, who lived in Harran as a girl and drew water from the well before moving to Canaan and marrying one of Abraham’s sons. Bafflingly, forty years after Lawrence’s visit, what had been Rebekah’s Well was being referred to as Jacob’s Well (Bi’rYa’qub), honoring Rebekah’s son, Jacob, in spite of the fact that Jacob never lived in Harran.⁶

All in all, ancient Harran was not a town from which a reviled monotheistic Prophet could expect an enthusiastic welcome. Still, one gathers from tradition that Abraham and Sarah tried to make the best of their new environment. They raised flocks of sheep while living in a mud brick house situated on a gentle hill.⁷

Examination of excavated remains reveals that there were at least three distinct types of sheep that might have been found in Abraham’s herd. One type had corkscrew horns, medium-length tails, and fairly smooth, hairy coats. A second strain sported short tails and Ammon horns (heavily ridged and curved into enormous spirals), and its fleece was very curly. The third kind of sheep had very long, fat tails with productive lanolin glands that made the long strands of its wool soft and silky.⁸ Because fabric woven from woolen thread, hides with the fleece still attached, and panels of tanned leather were extensively used for clothing and for constructing household items, there was a widespread trade in freshly-shorn fleece as well as pelts. Goats, whose hides were also valuable, were often mixed into sheep herds, and the milk and meat from both types of animals were in constant demand.

At first, Abraham did not mention His beliefs to anyone. He maintained this silence until rumors about the way He had confronted Nimrod reached the ears of local Harranians. The rumors aroused so much curiosity that the townspeople began seeking Him out to ask questions. Then and only then did Abraham break His silence and try to convey the truth of monotheism to them. In deference to the customs of the time, Abraham spoke only to men, while Sarah accepted the responsibility of speaking with any of the women who wanted to learn more.⁹

The general reaction to Abraham’s teachings was negative. “These people believed not in one God but in many gods, to whom they ascribed miracles,” the Bahá’í writings explain, “therefore, they all arose against Him, and no one supported Him except Lot, His brother’s son, and one or two other people of no importance.”¹⁰ Abraham’s father, Terah, joined the adamant opposition, which indicates that he had continued to cling to his profession of making and selling idols.

Muḥammad describes Abraham’s anguished attempts to reason with His father and persuade him to accept a new divine Message this way: “O my Father! why dost thou worship that which neither seeth nor heareth, nor profiteth thee aught? … verily now hath knowledge come to me which hath not come to thee. Follow me therefore—I will guide thee into an even path.” To clinch the argument, Abraham added a warning to his pleas: “worship not Satan, for Satan is a rebel against the God of Mercy … indeed I fear lest a chastisement from the God of Mercy light upon thee, and thou become Satan’s vassal.”¹¹

Terah, unwilling to abandon earthbound images, responded to Abraham’s arguments with ferocious rejection, sundering the family bonds that had united them during the exile from Ur. “Castest thou off my gods, O Abraham?” he demanded. “If thou forbear not, I will surely stone thee. Begone from me for a length of time.”¹²

When someone adamantly opposes God (becomes a “companion of the Fire”), Muḥammad says it not fitting for a Prophet to pray for his forgiveness, even if he is a close relative. Nevertheless, Abraham responded to His father’s threats of banishment and stoning in the same tenderhearted way that Jesus asked forgiveness for those who crucified Him. “Peace be on thee!” exclaimed Abraham. “I will pray my Lord for thy forgiveness, for he is gracious to me.”¹³

In His prayer, Abraham begged God not to let Him become a test or a trial to any person who, like His father, disbelieved. Only when it was abundantly clear that Terah was determined to remain an enemy did Abraham agree to “… separate myself from you, and the gods ye call on besides God.” And then, having been mercilessly cut loose from the normal duties of an eldest son toward his father, Abraham turned to the source of divine mercy, saying “on my Lord will I call.”¹⁴

God’s answer to Abraham’s call came in the form of a magnificent promise:

Leave your country and your people and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you.

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.¹⁵

In lively minds, being cursed by God stirs up visions of a vengeful finger shooting bolts of lightning at the miscreant. Scripture, by contrast, holds a different, more metaphysical point of view in which the state of being cursed or blessed is explained in terms of natural consequences. It is analogous to the way that being burned by a hot stove is a natural consequence of touching it and not the result of active persecution by the stove. From this point of view, the laws of God’s universe include scientific realities like the speed of light or the effect of gravity as well as moral realities like honesty and love. As mentioned in the gospel of Matthew, breaking or ignoring any of these fundamental laws is a spiritually dangerous enterprise:

Everyone who hears these words of Mine

And does not act on them

Will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand.

The rain fell, and the floods came,

and the winds blew and slammed against that house;

and it fell—and great was its fall.¹⁶

Or, as Job puts it, “they that plow iniquity, and sow wickedness, reap the same.”¹⁷

By refusing to acknowledge the truth when he heard it and, even worse, threatening the life of a Messenger of God, Terah voluntarily moved away from the state of being blessed (accepting and rejoicing in the love of God) and joined the ranks of those who wished to live in the state of being cursed (refusing and abhorring the love of God). “Love Me, that I may love thee,” Bahá’u’lláh says, because “If thou lovest Me not, My love can in no wise reach thee.”¹⁸

Just as Nimrod’s name became a synonym for a dolt or a fool, Terah’s name continued to be so strongly identified with spiritual aridity that it has been used as a metaphor for the difficulties Moses faced in trying to teach the Israelites about God: “Moses lived in the wilderness of Terah.”¹⁹

Genesis indicates that Terah died before Abraham left Harran. But, as was the case with the prior “death” of Abraham’s brother, Haran, the Old Testament may not be speaking of physical demise but, instead, conveying a mystical truth. When Terah threatened to stone his son and thereby kill a Messenger of God, he was committing spiritual suicide. Though alive and breathing the air of this planet, he was lifeless enough to merit being grouped with those of whom Jesus said, “Let the dead bury their dead.”²⁰

Like Moses leaving Egypt or the Báb shivering in an icy prison cell,^* Abraham had already faced years of opposition in His attempt to introduce a new Revelation. And now, having survived the flames of polytheism, the judgment of Nimrod, and the exile to Harran, there was more to come. This second banishment would push Abraham completely beyond the bounds of Mesopotamia and into an alien culture where, His enemies hoped, “He might be crushed and destroyed … that no trace of Him might be left.”²¹

^* Also spelled Sabeans; see Appendix B for more information.

^* After declaring His mission, the Báb was imprisoned in the fortress of Máh-Kú, a town in present-day Iran, where the water with which He washed was “of such icy coldness that its drops glistened as they froze upon His face” (Nabíl-i-A‘ẓam, The Dawn-Breakers: Nabíl’s Narrative of the Early Days of the Bahá’í Revelation, p. 252).