Hagar: The God Who Sees Me
In the vast tapestry of biblical narratives, some figures stand out not for their prominence in the covenant line, but for their profound encounters with the Almighty God amidst suffering and despair. Hagar, an Egyptian handmaid in the household of Abraham and Sarai, is one such figure. Her story, often overshadowed by the grander narratives of the patriarchs, offers a powerful revelation of God's character: He is El-roi, "The God Who Sees Me." Hagar's journey from a life of servitude to a desperate flight into the wilderness, and her subsequent divine encounter, provides a timeless testament to God's intimate awareness and compassionate intervention in the lives of the forgotten and the afflicted.
The Genesis of Despair: Hagar's Initial Flight
The stage for Hagar's ordeal is set by Sarai's barrenness, a source of great sorrow and shame in ancient Near Eastern culture. Following the custom of the time, Sarai, desperate for an heir, gives Hagar to Abraham to bear children on her behalf. "Now Sarai Abram's wife bare him no children: and she had an handmaid, an Egyptian, whose name was Hagar." (Genesis 16:1). When Hagar conceives, a shift in power dynamics occurs. Hagar, now bearing the promise of Abraham's lineage, begins to despise her mistress, and Sarai, in turn, deals harshly with her. The King James Bible describes Sarai's treatment:
And Sarai dealt with her hardly, so that she fled from her face.
Driven by cruelty and despair, Hagar flees into the desolate wilderness, a place symbolic of utter hopelessness and vulnerability. She is alone, pregnant, and without provision or protection. This is her lowest point, a moment where any human hope would surely vanish. Yet, it is precisely in this wilderness, at the very edge of her endurance, that God chooses to reveal Himself.
The Divine Encounter: El-roi Revealed
As Hagar rests by a fountain of water in the wilderness, an unexpected visitor appears: the Angel of the Lord. This is no ordinary angel; the context and Hagar's subsequent response suggest a Christophany, an appearance of the pre-incarnate Christ, or a direct manifestation of God Himself. The Angel addresses Hagar directly, demonstrating God's personal knowledge of her identity and situation:
And he said, Hagar, Sarai's handmaid, whence camest thou? and whither wilt thou go? And she said, I flee from the face of my mistress Sarai.
The Angel then instructs Hagar to return to Sarai and submit to her authority, a difficult command that requires immense faith and humility. But this command is coupled with a powerful promise, a divine assurance that transcends her immediate suffering:
And the angel of the LORD said unto her, I will multiply thy seed exceedingly, that it shall not be numbered for multitude. And the angel of the LORD said unto her, Behold, thou art with child, and shalt bear a son, and shalt call his name Ishmael; because the LORD hath heard thy affliction.
God's promise to Hagar is remarkable. He not only knows her affliction but has heard it. He promises her a son, Ishmael ("God hears"), and a numerous posterity, just as He had promised Abraham. Overwhelmed by this direct, personal encounter with the living God, Hagar gives Him a new name, a name that encapsulates the profound truth she has just experienced:
And she called the name of the LORD that spake unto her, Thou God seest me: for she said, Have I also here looked after him that seeth me? Wherefore the well was called Beer-lahai-roi; behold, it is between Kadesh and Bered.
She names Him El-roi, "The God Who Sees Me." This is a deeply personal and intimate revelation. Hagar, a marginalized, fleeing handmaid, discovers that the Creator of the universe sees her, knows her pain, and intervenes in her life. She is not invisible to God. This encounter transforms her despair into hope, empowering her to return and face her difficult circumstances with divine assurance.
A Second Ordeal: God's Sustained Providence
Years later, after Isaac's birth, Hagar and Ishmael face another, even more severe, expulsion. When Ishmael mocks Isaac during a feast, Sarah demands that Abraham cast them out. Abraham is grieved, but God commands him to comply, reiterating His commitment to Ishmael:
And God said unto Abraham, Let it not be grievous in thy sight because of the lad, and because of thy bondwoman; in all that Sarah hath said unto thee, hearken unto her voice; for in Isaac shall thy seed be called. And also of the son of the bondwoman will I make a nation, because he is thy seed.
Abraham sends Hagar and Ishmael away with only bread and a bottle of water. Again, they find themselves in the wilderness of Beersheba, the water runs out, and Hagar lays Ishmael under a shrub, unable to watch him die. She lifts her voice and weeps, but it is Ishmael's cry that God hears:
And God heard the voice of the lad; and the angel of God called to Hagar out of heaven, and said unto her, What aileth thee, Hagar? fear not; for God hath heard the voice of the lad where he is.
Once more, God intervenes. He opens Hagar's eyes to a well of water, providing immediate sustenance. And He reiterates His promise concerning Ishmael: "Arise, lift up the lad, and hold him in thine hand; for I will make him a great nation." (Genesis 21:18). God's faithfulness to His word is unwavering, even when circumstances seem utterly hopeless.
Lessons from Hagar's Journey: The God Who Sees Us
Hagar's story, though brief, is rich with profound theological truths applicable to every believer:
Conclusion
Hagar's life, marked by hardship and divine intervention, stands as a powerful testament to the character of God. She was not a matriarch of Israel, nor a queen, but a suffering handmaid. Yet, to her, God revealed Himself as El-roi, "The God Who Sees Me." This is a truth that resonates through the ages. In our own moments of feeling unseen, unheard, or abandoned—whether by circumstances, injustice, or the cruelty of others—we can take immense comfort in knowing that the same God who saw Hagar sees us. He is intimately aware of our every trial, our every tear, and our every unspoken plea. He is the God who bends down to lift the downtrodden, who opens our eyes to the provision we might otherwise miss, and who never forsakes those who cry out to Him. May we, like Hagar, acknowledge with awe and gratitude the profound reality of El-roi, the God who truly sees each one of us.