Genesis 15
There are nights when God invites us to look up.
When the ache of what hasn’t come yet presses so close that only the heavens feel big enough to hold it.
Abram stood in one of those nights.
He had heard promises before: “I will make you a great nation.”
But years had passed. His tent was full of wealth, yet empty of a child’s laughter.
And into that quiet disappointment, the Lord came again:
“Fear not, Abram, I am your shield; your exceedingly great reward.”
(Genesis 15:1, ESV)
When Faith Speaks Honestly
Abram didn’t hide his doubt behind reverent silence. He asked the question that trembles in every waiting heart:
“O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless?”
(Genesis 15:2)
The Hebrew ’al-tirah (“do not fear”) is not a command to suppress emotion but an invitation into trust. Abram’s faith begins, not with stoic certainty, but with honest dialogue.
God does not scold him. Instead, He leads him outside under the cool night sky. The stars scatter like promises made visible.
“Look toward heaven, and number the stars, if you are able to number them… so shall your offspring be.”
And then, the verse that reverberates across the whole canon:
“And he believed the Lord, and He counted it to him as righteousness.”
(Genesis 15:6)
In Hebrew, he’emin (הֶאֱמִן) comes from ’aman — to lean, to rest one’s weight upon. Abram didn’t achieve belief; he entrusted himself to the reliability of God. Faith is not a heroic act — it’s a holy leaning.
The Deep Sleep of Covenant (Tardemah)
As the sun descends, the scene deepens into mystery:
“As the sun was going down, a deep sleep (tardemah) fell on Abram; and behold, dreadful and great darkness fell upon him.”
(Genesis 15:12)
The Hebrew tardemah (תַּרְדֵּמָה) is used rarely in Scripture. The first time is in Genesis 2:21, when “the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam.” Out of that tardemah, a bride was formed from Adam’s side.
Out of Abram’s tardemah, a nation would be born.
Both are acts of divine initiative — moments where human striving ceases so God alone can create.
Adam slept, and God built (banah) the woman.
Abram slept, and God bound Himself by covenant.
The darkness is not punishment — it’s holy anesthesia.
God still does His deepest work when His people rest.
The Covenant That Walked Alone
In the ancient Near East, covenants were sealed with blood. Two parties would walk between split animal carcasses, declaring: “May I become like these if I break this covenant.”
But that night, Abram does not walk. He is still, enveloped in divine sleep.
Only God moves through the blood path:
“When the sun had gone down and it was dark, behold, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces.”
(Genesis 15:17)
This imagery is not random — it’s revelation.
The smoking fire recalls the cloud that would later rest on Sinai (Exodus 19:18).
The torch anticipates the pillar of fire that would lead Israel through the wilderness (Exodus 13:21).
Both symbolize the unapproachable, self-revealing presence of Yahweh.
Abram does not negotiate. He witnesses.
The covenant is unilateral — God alone walks the path.
The God Who Guarantees Himself
This covenant is anchored not in Abram’s reliability but in God’s own nature. Centuries later, Scripture will echo the same truth:
“If we are faithless, He remains faithful — for He cannot deny Himself.”
(2 Timothy 2:13)
God swears not by any higher authority but by His own name:
“By Myself I have sworn, declares the Lord…”
(Genesis 22:16)
“When God desired to show more convincingly… the unchangeable character of His purpose, He guaranteed it with an oath.”
(Hebrews 6:17)
In human covenants, both parties promise; in divine covenant, God promises on behalf of both.
He is both the Giver and the Guarantor.
This is why Paul calls the gospel the fulfillment of the Abrahamic promise:
“The law, which came 430 years afterward, does not annul a covenant previously ratified by God.”
(Galatians 3:17)
Grace, not law, was the original signature on the covenant scroll.
Foreshadowing the Greater Covenant
That night under the stars, a pattern was written that would one day be fulfilled in Christ.
On Calvary, the covenant would again walk alone — this time on nail-scarred feet.
The blood-stained path through the animals in Genesis 15 finds its echo in the torn veil and broken body of Jesus:
“This cup is the new covenant in My blood, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.” (Luke 22:20; Matthew 26:28)
At the Cross, God once again took both sides of the covenant — bearing the penalty of human unfaithfulness and securing the promise of divine mercy.
As Hebrews declares:
“He remains forever… therefore He is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through Him.”
(Hebrews 7:24–25)
The Rest of Faith
The covenant of Genesis 15 invites us into rest — not passivity, but peace.
The same God who called Abram to believe still calls us to lean.
Our righteousness, like his, is counted — not earned.
When life feels suspended between promise and fulfillment, the night sky still whispers:
The covenant has already been kept.
The fire still burns through the darkness.
From Abram to Abraham
Though God seals the covenant in Genesis 15, He will later rename Abram in Genesis 17 — “No longer shall your name be called Abram, but your name shall be Abraham, for I have made you the father of a multitude of nations.” (Genesis 17:5)
The name Abram (אַבְרָם) means “exalted father.”
Abraham (אַבְרָהָם) means “father of many.”
He moves from aspiration (exalted father) to fulfillment (father of many).
The covenant does not merely alter his circumstances — it reshapes his name, his nature, and his legacy.
Every believer shares in that same breath.
Through Christ, we too receive a new name, a new inheritance, and a new covenant identity:
“If you are Christ’s, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to promise.”
(Galatians 3:29)
Selah
Pause and remember:
Your salvation rests not on your grip, but on His.
You are the child of a promise that God Himself fulfilled.
When faith falters, look to the stars.
When fear rises, remember the covenant that walked alone.
Reflection
- What does the tardemah reveal about how God works when we stop striving?
- How does the covenant ritual in Genesis 15 shape your understanding of grace and divine faithfulness?
- Where have you tried to “walk between the pieces” instead of letting God walk alone?
- How does seeing Christ as the ultimate covenant-keeper renew your trust in seasons of uncertainty?
Originally published on Medium. Reposted with the author’s permission. All rights reserved.
