Let's take another wee look at the Bible.
There we find that Abram was a mendicant migrant who, fleeing famine, sought refuge in Egypt.
He said to his young wife, Sarai, "Say you are my sister (not my wife). Otherwise they may kill me to take you."
The border guards, observing Sarai's exceptional beauty, presented her to Pharaoh, who took her as a wife or concubine. In reward, Abram was given a herd of cattle and sheep. Soon, however, they brought Sarai back to him saying,
"Why did you say she was your sister, not your wife? She has given Pharaoh a disease."
The pair were barred from Egypt, but Abram was allowed to retain his herd. He became quite wealthy, grazing his herd on open ground, like other nomads, wherever grass was to be found.
Sarai would have had multiple miscarriages, until the disease had run its course. In the absence of dated records of life events, and judging by her worn and wizened appearance by that time, it was reasonable to guess that she was 100 years old. Her actual age would have been about forty.
And who was this God with whom Abram made his strange covenant, but a figment of his fevered brain?
So, also, was the notion, in line with the thinking of his time, that he should sacrifice his most precious son to atone for the sins of his own iniquitous life!
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