Charles Ellicott Commentary Genesis 12:11-13

"And it came to pass, when he was come near to enter into Egypt, that he said unto Sarai his wife, Behold now, I know that thou art a fair woman to look upon: and it will come to pass, when the Egyptians shall see thee, that they will say, This is his wife: and they will kill me, but they will save thee alive. Say, I pray thee, thou art my sister; that it may be well with me for thy sake, and that my soul may live because of thee." — Genesis 12:11-13 (ASV)

Thou art a fair woman. For the word y ephath, rendered “fair,” see Genesis 9:27. Though its general meaning is beautiful, yet there can be no doubt that the light colour of Sarai’s complexion was what would chiefly commend her to the Egyptians, because she was now past sixty; and though she was vigorous enough to bear a son at ninety, this was by the special favour of God.

As she lived to the age of 127 (Genesis 23:1), she was now about middle age and had evidently retained much of her early beauty. This, added to the difference in tint, would make her still attractive to the swarthy descendants of Ham, especially as they were not a handsome race, but had flat foreheads, high cheek-bones, large mouths, and thick lips. Twenty years later, we find Abram still haunted by fears of the effects of her personal appearance (Genesis 20:2), even when living among a better-featured race.

From Genesis 20:13, it appears that on leaving Haran, Abram and Sarai had agreed to adopt this expedient, which seems to us so strangely contrary to the faith the patriarch was displaying at that very time. He abandons his birthplace at the Divine command and starts upon endless wanderings; yet, to protect his own life, he makes an arrangement that involves the possible sacrifice of his wife’s chastity. Twice, but for God’s interference, this painful result would actually have happened. Perhaps Abram depended on Sarai’s cleverness to help herself out of the difficulty; but such a mixture of faith and weakness, of trust in God in abandoning so much and trust in worldly policy for preservation in a foreseen danger, cannot help but make us feel how much infirmity there was even in a character otherwise so noble.