S.A.L.T. - PARASHAT LEKH LEKHA

By Rav David Silverberg

Motzaei

            We read in Parashat Lekh-Lekha of God’s exhortation to Avraham, “Hit’halekh lefanai ve-hyei tamim” (literally, “Walk before Me and be blameless” – 17:1).  The commentators offer several different interpretations to the word “tamim” in this verse, and different explanations for the connection between the commands “hit’halekh lefanai” and “tamim.”

            A particularly novel approach to explaining this verse was suggested by Rav Chaim Mordechai Bronroth of Chechnov, in his Omer U-dvarim (Warsaw, 1936).  The phrase, “hit’halekh lefanai,” which instructs Avraham to “walk in front of” the Almighty, might refer to Avraham’s role in disseminating the knowledge of the Creator throughout the world, as described in the Midrashim and elsewhere.  Avraham walked “in front of” God as a servant walks ahead of his master to announce his arrival, proclaiming God’s existence and urging His subjects to observe His dictates.  He served as God’s representative and emissary on earth, working tirelessly to refute the claims of paganism and spread the belief in a single Creator.

In this verse, God commands Avraham to be “tamim” – innocent and upright – in this endeavor.  People assigned important responsibilities are often ready to “bend the rules” and push the limits of propriety in the pursuit of their goal.  Particularly when it came to as important an endeavor as spreading the belief in God, one might have assumed that Avraham was entitled to a certain degree of leeway in this effort, and would be allowed to employ ethically questionable tactics as he worked to bring his beliefs to the people.  God therefore commanded Avraham to be “tamim,” to remain innocent and morally impeccable as he embarked on his historic mission.  iHis goal was to be pursued within the limits of integrity and dignified conduct, as the rules of morals and ethics may not be broken even for the lofty sake of disseminating the belief in God.

Sunday

            The haftara for Parashat Lekh-Lekha is taken from Sefer Yeshayahu, and in this prophecy we find a description of islands gripped with fear (“Ra’u iyim ve-yiyra’u” – 41:5).  The Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 44:8) interprets this verse as a poetic reference to Avraham and Shem (Noach’s son), who lived at the same time (though obviously Shem was much older than Avraham).  The Midrash writes:

Just as these islands are distinguished, similarly, Avraham and Shem were distinguished in the world.  “And they were frightened” – this one feared the other, and this one feared the other.  This one [Avraham] feared the other [Shem], saying, “Perhaps Shem resents me because I killed his descendants.”  And this one [Shem] feared the other [Avraham], saying, “Perhaps Avraham resents me because I allowed wicked people to arise.”

It emerges from the Midrash’s comments that Avraham and Shem were the two most prominent religious figures of the time, and there was some tension between them.  Avraham felt concerned that Shem resented the bloody war Avraham waged against the four eastern powers – kingdoms that were founded by the descendants of Shem.  In the meantime, Shem suspected that Avraham might look unfavorably upon him because of the many wicked people that descended from him.

            Rav Shimon Sofer of Cracow (son of the Chatam Sofer), as recorded in Mikhtav Sofer, suggested that the Midrash refers here to the tension that exists between two different models of spiritual greatness.  Shem, as depicted in Midrashic literature, represents the model of a righteous person who achieves greatness through withdrawal and isolation.  He preferred to remain separate and apart from his contemporaries so he could focus his attention on his own spiritual growth and achievements.  Avraham, of course, adopted the precise opposite approach, working tirelessly to spread the truth of God’s existence throughout the world.  He was very involved in world affairs, and maintained close ties with important figures while also going out of his way to care for even the simple, ordinary people.  While Shem kept his doors closed so he could concentrate on pursuing his spiritual ambitions, the doors to Avraham’s tent were always open, as he was devoted to assisting all people and to impact the world through his kindness, wisdom and influence.

            Each approach has its drawbacks, as the Midrash notes by depicting the tension that existed between Avraham and Shem.  Avraham’s involvement in world affairs led him to intervene in a world war, which resulted in untold numbers of casualties.  The tzadik represented by Shem keeps away from worldly affairs out of disdain for the morally complex situations that such involvement requires one to confront.  From his perspective, the battlefield is no place for a person who has set his sights upon spiritual greatness.  This pursuit requires a person to avoid soiling his hands and getting entangled in difficult controversies and conflicts that often characterize public service.  Shem resents Avraham’s involvement in warfare; this model of piety advocates withdrawing from public, communal affairs, and instead isolating oneself in a safe haven of spirituality and sanctity.

            Conversely, as the Midrash describes, Avraham resented the results of Shem’s policy of isolation.  Generations of sinners emerged from Shem, as he remained cloistered in his “island” of spirituality.  Communal involvement may necessitate some compromise in one’s personal growth, but unless spiritual leaders are prepared to make this compromise, the world’s standards will steadily decline.  Avraham therefore looks askance at Shem, resenting his exclusive focus on his own spiritual growth which allows the world to continue along its downward spiral.

            Am Yisrael, of course, is the nation founded by Avraham, not by Shem.  The model we follow is that of religious excellence without ignoring the world.  At the same time, the tension between the model of Avraham and the model of Shem will always exist – and must always exist.  We must always struggle to maintain our own strict religious standards even as we involve ourselves in the world in an effort to perfect it.  Although we certainly follow the model of Avraham, we must also feel the pressure of Shem, the pressure to pursue our highest spiritual ambitions even as we involve ourselves in world affairs.

Monday

            We read in Parashat Lekh-Lekha of the conflict that erupted between Avraham’s shepherds and those of his nephew, Lot.  In response to the growing tensions, Avraham suggested to his nephew that they part ways, and no longer reside together.  He said, “Let there not be a fight between me and you, or between my shepherds and your shepherds, for we are men who are brothers” (13:8).

            The Tanchuma Yashan notes the significance of the fact that Avraham called Lot his “brother” in this context: “Look at the humility of Avraham Avinu!  After the entire quarrel that they engaged in with him…Avraham Avinu did not mention the quarrel, but rather called Lot his brother.”  Despite the tensions that raged between the two, Avraham made a point of referring to Lot as his “brother,” his relative.  Even as he felt compelled to separate from his nephew due to the conflict that had arisen, he ensured to emphasize their kinship and the close ties that bound them to one another.

            Chazal, as Rashi cites (in his commentary to 13:7), cast the blame for this incident squarely on Lot, who allowed his shepherds to graze on private property, over the objections of Avraham’s shepherds.  And yet, even though Lot was to blame for the conflict, Avraham referred to him as his “brother.”  Many people in this situation would allow the conflict and tension to overshadow, if not eliminate altogether, the close bonds of friendship or familial closeness between the two parties.  Avraham knew that Lot acted improperly and bore responsibility for the unpleasant tensions, but he was wise and humble enough to focus on what bound them together, rather than on that which divided them.

            Arguments between friends and family members are sometimes unavoidable.  The lesson conveyed by the Tanchuma Yashan is the need to remember in these situations that “anashim achim anachnu,” that there is a strong and meaningful relationship between the two parties, and this must be the point of focus even – and especially – in moments of tension and conflict.

Tuesday

            In the opening verses of Parashat Lekh-Lekha, we read the promises that God made to Avraham when instructing him to leave his homeland and settle in Canaan: “I shall make you into a great nation, and I shall bless you, and I shall exalt your name, and you shall be a blessing” (12:2).

The Gemara in Masekhet Pesachim (117b), as Rashi cites in his commentary to this verse, infers from these promises an allusion to the beginning of the amida prayer.  The three promises of “I shall make you into a great nation,” “I shall bless you,” and “I shall exalt your name” allude to the fact that Avraham’s descendants refer to God in the amida prayer with the three descriptions, “God of Avraham,” “God of Yitzchak” and “God of Yaakov.”  The Gemara then adds, “Perhaps they will conclude [the first berakha of the amida] with all of them?  The verse therefore states, ‘and you shall be a blessing’ – with you they conclude, and they do not conclude with all of them.”  Meaning, one might have thought that just as we refer to the Almighty as the God of all three patriarchs in the opening sentence of the amida prayer, we should refer to Him in this fashion at the conclusion of this berakha, as well.  The final promise in this verse – “and you shall be a blessing” – alludes to the fact that Avraham alone concludes this berakha.  Indeed, we conclude this berakha by referring to God as “Magen Avraham” (“the Shield of Avraham”), mentioning only Avraham, and not Yitzchak or Yaakov.

It seems reasonable to assume that Chazal’s intent in this passage is not simply to find a Biblical source for a text formulated many centuries after Avraham, by the Anshei Kenesset Ha-gedola.  Rather, it would appear, their intent is to underscore the primacy of Avraham, notwithstanding the fact that his legacy was continued by the work of his son and grandson.  Even though God is “Elokei Avraham, Elokei Yitzchak v-Elokei Yaakov,” Avraham holds a unique, singular place in our spiritual heritage, as reflected by the conclusion of the first berakha of the amida.

One possible explanation of the Gemara’s comments relates to the traditional association between the three patriarchs and the three fundamental attributes that characterize our religious obligations.  It is commonly understood that each patriarch symbolized, or perhaps even embodied, a certain area of avodat Hashem.  Avraham represented the attribute of gemilut chasadim – loving kindness; Yitzchak, who was offered as a sacrifice, signifies the area of avoda, devoted service and self-sacrifice to the Almighty; and Yaakov, whom the Torah describes as a “dweller of tents” (25:27), exemplified intensive study in the “tents” of Torah.

In the opening verses of Parashat Lekh-Lekha, when God speaks to Avraham for the first time, He informs him that He will forever be known as “God of Avraham, God of Yitzchak and God of Yaakov.”  Membership in the nation that will descend from Avraham will require a commitment to all three “pillars” of which the Sages speak in the beginning of Pirkei Avot, and which are embodied by the lives of our three patriarchs.  Torah life cannot be defined in simplistic terms as entailing only a single value or virtue; it requires a combination of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov.  Nevertheless, our blessing concludes only with Avraham.  It is the attribute of chesed which – more so than the others – constitutes the backbone and foundation upon which the rest of the Torah is built.  “Derekh eretz kadema la-Torah” – basic sensitivity to the needs and feelings of other people takes precedence to everything else.  Even though all three pillars of Torah, avoda and gemilut chasadim are critical, it is the element of gemilut chasadim that is the most fundamental, and hence considered the basis and first step along the road toward building a Torah life.

(Based on Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg’s discussion in Yalkut Yehuda)

Wednesday

            Toward the beginning of Parashat Lekh-Lekha, we read of the promises God made to Avraham when He commanded him to leave his homeland and resettle in Canaan.  Among these promises we find, “u-mkalelkha a’or” – “I shall curse those who curse you” (12:3).  It appears that from the outset, already at the moment when God informed Avraham of the mission he and his descendants would be assigned in the world, it was anticipated that he would have mekalelim – detractors and adversaries.  But God also promises Avraham that as long as he remains steadfastly committed to his mission, the curses uttered by his foes will fall upon them, and not him.

            Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg, in his Yalkut Yehuda (Denver, 1936), notes that God did not promise Avraham that he won’t have mekalelim, that he would not meet with strident opposition.  He guaranteed to visit retribution upon his adversaries, but not that he would be spared from opposition altogether.  The reason, the Yalkut Yehuda explains, is because a mission like Avraham’s naturally arouses opposition.  He writes:

That which the Almighty said to him, “and I shall curse those who curse you,” and did not bless him that he would not have people who curse him at all – this is because this is something impossible, that there would not be any callous people capable of cursing even the most distinguished person.  In particular, it is unavoidable that a great person will have enemies as a result of jealousy, and especially a person like Avraham, who came along and said that that which they considered sacred is actually profane, and that which they revered and made into a deity is something worthless and vacuous.  Certainly there were people who looked upon him as a man who disgraced that which is sacred, and they became his adversaries.

            A person who embarks on a successful idealistic mission will, almost by definition, meet with opposition, cynicism, resistance and derision.  Latent within this blessing to Avraham is a warning that he and his descendants would have to gird themselves with several layers of thick skin, that mekalelim of different strips and colors will scorn, mock and even actively oppose their efforts.  The nation of Avraham would have to persist on its journey through history with firm resolve and determination, and with conviction and faith in God’s eternal promise of “u-mkalelkha a’or,” that we will ultimately prevail over the mekalelim.

Thursday

            We read in Parashat Lekh-Lekha of the drought that struck the region of Canaan after Avraham had settled there in compliance with God’s command.  Avraham temporarily relocated in Egypt, with his wife and nephew, to escape the ravages of the harsh drought (12:10).

            The Gemara comments in Masekhet Bava Kama (60b), “If there is hunger in the city, scatter your feet, as it says, ‘There was a famine in the land, and so Avram went down to Egypt to live there’.”  Avraham’s decision to leave Canaan and reside in a neighboring country where food was available serves as a precedent we are bidden to follow in periods of financial hardship.  When facing a shortage of resources, we are encouraged to leave our hometowns and take up residence in a place offering better living conditions.

The Gemara’s comment, seemingly, expresses a perspective that runs in diametric opposition to the view famously championed by the Ramban, who claimed that Avraham acted wrongly in leaving Canaan.  In the Ramban’s view, after being commanded by God to live in Canaan and receiving His blessing and promise of success, Avraham should have remained in Canaan despite the harsh drought conditions.  Especially in light of the danger to which he exposed his wife in Egypt, the Ramban writes, Avraham was wrong for leaving the Promised Land and taking up residence in Egypt.  The Gemara, however, appears to draw the opposite conclusion, viewing Avraham’s response to the drought as a model that should be followed in times of economic hardship.  Despite God’s promise to Avraham, he was correct in relocating when famine struck.

            In any event, one might wonder what precise message the Gemara sought to convey by instructing, “If there is hunger in the city, scatter your feet.”  Is it not obvious that we should move away from a city that does not have enough food for its residents?  Do we need to look to the story of Avraham leaving Canaan to learn that we should move somewhere else if we cannot comfortably survive in our current location?  And do we need the brilliant minds of the Talmudic Sages to teach us something so elementary, obvious and intuitive?

            It would appear that the Gemara here seeks to convey a more general lesson.  We often find ourselves feeling “stuck” in a problematic situation, or along a certain trajectory, thinking that we have no way out.  Fearing the instability of change, or out of sheer laziness, we often fail to implement the obvious solution to our problem, to simply pick ourselves up and leave the adverse circumstances we currently endure.  Even when hunger strikes a city, not everyone “scatters their feet,” not everyone is wise enough to go elsewhere to improve their condition.  People are sometimes too inflexible to accept the necessity of change.  There is hunger in the city – but they nevertheless remain.

            This, perhaps, is the message Chazal sought to convey, and this might also be the reason why they looked to Avraham as the exemplar of this quality of flexibility in the face of adversity.  After receiving God’s promise and relocating in Canaan, Avraham had good reason to expect a smooth ride moving forward.  God had promised him greatness, fame and prominence.  Did he imagine that soon after his resettlement in the Promised Land famine would strike and he would have to scramble for food?  But when famine did strike, Avraham was wise and poised enough to change course, to realize that his expectations were wrong, that God’s blessings were not intended for the immediate future, and that he would have to adapt to the unforeseen reality that he now confronted.

            “If there is hunger in the city, scatter your feet.”  When life takes unexpected twists and turns, we must be prepared to adjust accordingly, rather than get stuck in the “city without food” by stubbornly adhering to our original plans and expectations.

Friday

            Toward the beginning of Parashat Lekh-Lekha, the Torah tells the story of Avraham’s temporary stay in Egypt where he had gone to flee the drought that struck Canaan.  As a result of Pharaoh’s abduction of Sara, Avraham became very wealthy.  Not long after he left Canaan to escape hunger and deprivation, he returned with an enormous fortune, with large herds of animals and a staff of servants.

            The Torah describes Avraham’s return to Canaan with the phrase, “Va-yeilekh le-masa’av” (“He went along his travels” – 12:3).  Rashi, citing from the Midrash, offers two possible interpretations of this phrase.  First, he writes that Avraham made a point of lodging in the same taverns in which he had stayed during his trip to Egypt.  Rashi adds that on the basis of this verse Chazal taught that it is proper for a person “not to change innkeepers,” to continue patronizing his current proprietors.  The second interpretation of this phrase, as Rashi cites, is that Avraham ensured to repay all his outstanding debts as he traveled through Canaan after returning from Egypt.

            Avraham left Canaan in desperation, and returned a wealthy man.  Chazal here teach us that despite his newfound wealth, Avraham did not “change innkeepers,” he did not turn his back upon the people who had served him during his period of hardship.  Upon returning from Egypt, Avraham could afford to jump to the upper class, to dissociate himself from the simple people with whom he had previously worked and associated, and join the aristocracy.  But, as Rashi comments, “This teaches derekh eretz – that a person should not change innkeepers.”  Avraham taught by example that it is improper to change one’s social circle after a change in financial status.  Even after suddenly becoming wealthy, Avraham visited the same inexpensive inns that hosted him when he was weary, hungry and desperate.

            When viewed this perspective, this interpretation of the verse may closely relate to Rashi’s second reading of the verse, that Avraham repaid his debts.  Avraham used his newly obtained wealth wisely and with careful discretion.  He did not spend his money on luxurious accommodations and amenities.  Instead, he maintained his previous modest lifestyle, and used his surplus funds to settle his accounts, to get out of debt.  Chazal describe Avraham as following a cautious approach to finances: before spending on extras, he first paid off his debtors.  And this, too, is a lesson in derekh eretz.  Prioritizing repayment of debts not only demonstrates basic concern and regard for the debtor, but also bespeaks a mature, responsible and disciplined way of handling finances.

            Chazal portray the patriarchs as spiritual giants, but also – and perhaps primarily – as exemplars of basic decency and common sense.  In their comments to this verse, the Sages draw our attention to Avraham’s sensible and cautious handling of his new fortune, and urge us to follow his example of fiscal discipline and prioritization.

David Silverberg