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PARASHAT LEKH LEKHA

By Rav David Silverberg

Parashat Lekh-Lekha received its name from God’s command to Avraham in the parasha’s opening verse, “Lekh lekha” – “Go.”  God commands Avraham to resettle in a land he will be shown, which was, of course, the Land of Canaan.  Rashi, apparently troubled by the seemingly unnecessary word lekha (literally, “for you”) in this verse, comments, “Le-hana’atekha u-le-tovatekha” – which literally means, “for your benefit [or ‘enjoyment’] and your well-being.”  God emphasized to Avraham that his relocation will ultimately prove beneficial for him, and this is the meaning of the instruction, “Lekh lekha”- “Go for yourself.”

            Rav Menachem Benzion Zaks (son-in-law of Rav Tzvi Pesach Frank), in his Menachem Tziyon, observes that Rashi speaks of two different concepts – hana’a, which is generally used to mean either benefit, pleasure or enjoyment; and tova, which literally means “goodness,” or “well being.” Gods tells Avraham that his resettlement will bring him not only hana’a – benefit – but also tova – goodness.  How are we to explain these two different terms?

            Rav Zaks explains, quite simply, that not everything from which a person derives “benefit” is “good” for him.  That which provides enjoyment and gratification does not always serve one’s long-term interests; very often, it in fact works to one’s detriment.  Rav Zaks brings as an example the halakha established in the Mishna in Masekhet Bekhorot (37a), concerning a butcher who sold meat that was subsequently determined to come from a tereifa (animal with a fatal illness, which may not be eaten).  The Mishna states that even though the customer already ate the meat, and thus derived benefit from his purchase, the butcher must nevertheless return the money.  Although the customer received physical enjoyment, the meat was not “good” for him in the spiritual sense, and the transaction is therefore void.  (We should note that Rashi, in his commentary to that Mishna, indicates that the butcher must return the money only as a kenas – as a penalty imposed on him by the Sages.  This implies that from a strict, legal point of view, the transaction is binding, since the customer indeed derived the desired benefit from the purchase.)

            The Almighty therefore emphasized to Avraham that his new residence will prove beneficial in both senses: in terms of the immediate experience of benefit, as well as in terms of long-term benefit.

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The Torah tells in Parashat Lekh-Lekha that after Avraham’s return to Canaan from his sojourn in Egypt, a quarrel erupted between his shepherds and those of his nephew, Lot.  The verse reads, “There was an argument between the shepherds of Avram’s cattle and the shepherds of Lot’s cattle; and the Canaanites and Perizites were then dwelling in the land” (13:7).

The commentators offer different explanations for the relevance of the final phrase – “and the Canaanites and Perizites were then dwelling in the land” – to this quarrel.  The most obvious explanation, it would seem, is that of Chizkuni, who writes that the presence of other peoples in Canaan resulted in very limited availability of pasture for Avraham and Lot, and the shepherds therefore fought over the few areas to which they did have access.  Seforno and Abarbanel suggest that the controversy between the shepherds gave Avraham and Lot a bad reputation among the other peoples, who looked upon them as a difficult and quarrelsome clan.  This phrase thus highlights the urgent need Avraham sensed to end the infighting immediately.  Rashi explains that the dispute erupted when Lot’s shepherds allowed their cattle to graze in private property, and thus drew the condemnation of Avraham’s shepherds, who were trained to bring the cattle specifically to ownerless territories.  Lot’s shepherds responded that once God promised all of Canaan to Avraham, the land legally belonged to him.  The Torah therefore adds, “and the Canaanites and Perizites were then in the land,” to indicate that their presence meant that Avraham had not yet taken legal possession over Canaan.

            A particularly novel interpretation of this verse appears in the work Lu’ach Erez, written by Rav Yitzchak Kunstadt of Pressburg (published in Vienna, 1915).  Referring to his reading as a remez (allusion), rather than the primary, straightforward meaning, the Lu’ach Erez speculates that the quarrel between the two groups of shepherds involved a conflict between the Canaanites and the Perizites.  On many occasions throughout Jewish history, different camps among the Jews supported different sides of international conflicts, on the assumption that their support would yield dividends in the form of the given party’s favorable disposition towards the Jews.  The fighting among the shepherds perhaps represents the first example of this kind of bitter dispute.  “And the Canaanites and Perizites were then dwelling in the land” means that they were engaged in conflict, and Avraham’s and Lot’s shepherds were divided on the question of which nation to support.

            On this basis, the Lu’ach Erez suggests a novel interpretation also of Avraham’s response to the conflict.  He says to Lot, “Please, let there not be a fight between me and you, and between my shepherds and your shepherds, because we are brothers” (13:8).  Avraham perhaps warns Lot against involvement in external conflicts, because neither party is genuinely concerned about the welfare of outside supporters.  They solicit support by forming temporary alliances, the mutuality of which dissolves the moment the support is no longer necessary.  Avraham therefore emphasizes, “for we are brothers” – only he and Lot have genuine fealty and unconditional devotion to one another.  The Canaanites and Perizites, by contrast, seek to promote only their own respective agendas, and Lot and Avraham thus have nothing to gain by supporting one party over the other.

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            Parashat Lekh-Lekha (in chapter 14) tells of the war waged between the four eastern powers against the five cities of what is today the Dead Sea region.  Avraham’s nephew, Lot, had settled in Sedom, one of the cities involved in this conflict, and he was taken captive by the four kings.  Avraham learns of his nephew’s capture and quickly mobilizes a modest brigade, which pursues and defeats the four kings, liberating the captives and possessions of Sedom and the other cities.

            At first glance, it appears that Avraham’s involvement in this war was strictly personal, out of concern for his nephew.  The Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 42:1), however, citing Rabbi Eliezer, indicates that this entire conflict actually centered around Avraham.  Rabbi Eliezer cites a verse from Sefer Tehillim (37:14) – “The wicked proceeded to bend their bows to knock down the poor and the destitute, to slaughter the upright ones” – and claims that it refers to this battle.  “The wicked” refers to Amrafel, leader of the four-kingdom alliance; “the poor and destitute” refers to Lot; and “the upright ones” refers to Avraham.  Apparently, as noted by Rav Yehuda Leib Graubart, in his Yabia Omer (Toronto, 1936), Amrafel launched this offensive with the specific intent of “knocking down” Avraham and Lot.  We might even speculate – on the basis of Rabbi Eliezer’s remarks – that the capture of Lot might have been aimed at luring Avraham into the battle, which, the four empires assumed, would result in his death.

            Rabbi Eliezer’s comment likely relates to Chazal’s tradition (Eruvin 53a; cited by Rashi, 14:1) identifying Amrafel as Nimrod.  According to one view in the Gemara, the name “Amrafel” evolves from the Hebrew word for “fall” (the verb n.f.l.), and Nimrod was so named because he cast Avraham down into the furnace.  It would seem, then, that Nimrod led this campaign as part of his ongoing opposition to Avraham’s work in disseminating monotheistic beliefs.  He waged this war in order to defeat Avraham and put an end to the spread of monotheism.

            Rabbi Eliezer’s understanding of this war also casts a good deal of irony on the story’s ending – Avraham’s stunning victory over the four eastern kingdoms.  They had formed this alliance with the specific aim of crushing Avraham, and, ultimately, it was they themselves who were crushed by their campaign of aggression.

            Rav Graubart suggests that this perspective may help explain the relevance of Rabbi Eliezer’s remarks to the context in which they were said.  The Midrash tells that Rabbi Eliezer left the family business to study Torah under Rabban Yochanan Ben Zakai in Jerusalem.  His father was incensed, and decided he would forbid all assets upon Rabbi Eliezer, and distribute them only among his brothers, who remained loyal to their father’s enterprise.  By the time he came to Jerusalem to inform his son of his decision, Rabbi Eliezer had become a leading scholar.  As his father approached the academy, he saw Rabbi Eliezer delivering a lecture to a large audience, which included some of the most distinguished Jews in Eretz Yisrael at that time (including Kalba Savua, legendary father-in-law of Rabbi Akiva).  It was in this address, the Midrash tells, that Rabbi Eliezer made his comments concerning the war between the four eastern kingdoms and the five cities of the Jordan River valley.  Awed at the prominence to which his son had risen, Rabbi Eliezer’s father changed his mind and announced that he bequeaths his entire estate to Rabbi Eliezer, and nothing to his brothers.

            Rav Gaubart explains that Rabbi Eliezer’s scenario very closely resembled the story of Amrafel/Nimrod.  Rabbi Eliezer’s father came to disown his son, and yet, in the end, the precise opposite occurred, and his trip resulted in Rabbi Eliezer’s exclusive privileges to his father’s wealth.  Appropriately, then, in this context Rabbi Eliezer spoke about Nimrod’s effort to destroy Avraham, an effort which ultimately produced the exact opposite result – his own downfall, and Avraham’s rise to worldwide renown.

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            Yesterday we discussed the war described in Parashat Lekh-Lekha (chapter 14) between the four powers of the East and the five cities of the Dead Sea region.  The four empires defeat Sedom and the other cities, seizing their populations and possessions, including Lot, Avraham’s nephew, who had recently settled in Sedom.  Avraham hears of his nephew’s capture and flees the four kings with a modest army.  He miraculously defeats the eastern powers and restores the possessions of Sedom and its satellite cities.

            The Torah tells that the king of Sedom came to greet Avraham upon his return from battle, and offered him all the wealth that he had rescued.  “Give me the people,” he asks, “and the property – take for yourself” (14:21).  Avraham, however, refuses: “Avram said to the king of Sedom: I raise my hand to the Lord, God on High, Maker of heaven and earth, that I shall not take from you even a thread or a shoelace, and I shall not take anything belonging to you, so that you do not say, ‘I made Avram rich!’” (14:22-23).  Many commentators have addressed the question of why Avraham suddenly feared the consequences of accepting gifts from a foreign leader.  Earlier (12:16), we read that Avraham was showered with gifts as a result of his wife’s abduction by Pharaoh, enabling him to return Canaan as a fabulously wealthy man after having suffered hunger and poverty.  Why did Avraham accept gifts and wealth in Egypt, but refused the offer made by the king of Sedom, concerned lest the king boast “I made Avraham rich”?

            Rav Eliyahu Baruch Shulman (www.yutorah.org/showShiur.cfm?shiurID=706064) suggests answering this question based on information supplied by the Midrash concerning the king of Sedom’s experiences during this war.  Earlier in this narrative (14:10), the Torah tells that the kings of Sedom and Amora fled during battle and fell into the lime pits of Emek Ha-sidim, suggesting that they perished there.  The Midrash (cited by Rashi to 14:10), apparently bothered by the king of Sedom’s reappearance towards the end of the narrative, tells that God miraculously saved the king of Sedom from the lime pits, in order to prove His power to the skeptics who denied Avraham’s rescue from the fiery furnace of Ur Kasdim.  The Ramban raises the obvious question of why the wicked king of Sedom’s supernatural escape would verify the miraculous nature of Avraham’s rescue.  The Ramban suggests that the miracle that saved the king of Sedom occurred just as Avraham passed by along his return from his victorious battle.  This event thus very clearly demonstrated God’s supernatural intervention on behalf of Avraham.

            With this background in mind, Rav Shulman suggests, we can perhaps understand Avraham’s insistence on avoiding the impression of his dependence on the king of Sedom.  Another passage in the Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 43) tells that as the king of Sedom greeted Avraham, “he began wagging his tail at him.  He said, ‘Just as you went into the fiery furnace and were saved, so did I fall into the pit and was saved’.”  The king of Sedom insisted that the miracle occurred in his merit, that Avraham rode on his coattails, and not vice-versa.  Avraham thus understood that people would have to decide to whom to attribute this spectacular victory, and whom to perceive as the incidental beneficiary.  Was it the king of Sedom who earned supernatural assistance, and in his merit Avraham succeeded in defeating the four enemies, or was it the God of Avraham who rescued Sedom, and the king who merely reaped the benefits?  This question would occupy the headlines for some time to come, and Avraham therefore had to do what he could to ensure that the right conclusions would be reached from the events that had transpired during this war.

            For this reason, perhaps, Avraham could not accept any property from Sedom.  Had he done so, he would have been perceived as subordinate to the king of Sedom, as another name on the payroll, a perception that would instantly be translated into the theological supremacy of the pagan culture the king espoused.  Avraham had to appear entirely independent of the king of Sedom, so that he would be seen as the one on whose behalf the miracle occurred, and he was prepared to forfeit immense wealth for the purpose of defending the supremacy of his monotheistic beliefs.

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            We read in Parashat Lekh-Lekha (chapter 15) of the berit bein ha-betarim (literally, “covenant between the pieces”), the covenantal ceremony during which God promises Avraham that he will father a large nation that will live in Canaan.  At one point during this ceremony, we are told, “The sun was about to set, and a deep sleep came upon Avraham; behold, great dark descended upon him” (15:12).  As Avraham slept in the darkness, God warned him of the bondage to which his descendants would be subjected, and promised that they will ultimately emerge as a free nation and return to Canaan.  As Rashi explains, the setting of the sun and the darkness that descended upon Avraham symbolized the darkness and suffering of the Egyptian exile, of which God informs Avraham in this prophecy.  The Netziv, in his Ha’amek Davar, adds that the word shemesh (sun) is sometimes used to signify the overt manifestation of divine providence in the world.  He cites as an example a verse in Sefer Tehillim (84:12) – “Ki shemesh u-magen Hashem Elokim” (“For the Lord God is a sun and shield”).  The setting of the sun in this prophecy to Avraham thus represents the concealment of divine providence during Benei Yisrael’s periods of exile and oppression, when it appears as though God has forsaken them, Heaven forbid, and no longer takes interest in their well-being.

            Rav Meir Simcha Ha-kohen, in his Meshekh Chokhma, makes a fascinating observation in his comments to this verse, namely, that it is here that the Torah uses the word shemesh for the first time.  In Parashat Bereishit, in describing the creation of the sun, the Torah (1:16) refers to it as ha-ma’or ha-gadol – “the large luminary.”  The word shemesh, however, the primary Hebrew word for “sun,” appears for the first time only here, in God’s prophecy to Avraham.

            The Meshekh Chokhma explains that the word shemesh evolves from the Aramaic verb (which is also used in modern Hebrew) sh.m.sh., which means “serve.”  (The only instance of this verb in Tanakh is in Sefer Daniel 7:10.)  Avraham succeeded in turning the sun back into a shemesh – a servant, or attendant, of the Almighty, rather than an independent supernatural force.  The Rambam famously describes in the beginning of Hilkhot Avoda Zara how idolatry evolved to the point where its followers did not acknowledge the existence of a single, divine entity governing the natural world.  They instead ascribed divine power and authority to the various forces of nature.  Avraham’s struggle against paganism entailed proving that the sun is but a shemesh – a subordinate force, in the “service,” so-to-speak, of the Almighty.  For this reason, the Meshekh Chokhma suggests, it is only when Avraham emerges on the scene and launches his campaign against polytheism that the sun became called shemesh, which emphasizes its dependence upon and subservience to God, contrary to the pagan attribution of intrinsic divine powers to the celestial bodies.

THURSDAY

            Parashat Lekh-Lekha tells of the famine that struck Canaan shortly after Avraham’s relocation in the land, and his decision to temporarily move to Egypt to escape hunger.  Anticipating the Egyptians’ desire to marry his attractive wife, and fearing he might therefore be killed, Avraham poses as Sara’s brother.  As he expected, Pharoah’s officers take note of Sara’s beauty and advise Pharaoh to seize her.

            The word used by the Torah to describe the officers’ reaction to Sara is va-yehalelu (12:15), which is generally translated as, “they praised.”  The king’s officers spoke highly of the new arrival from Canaan, and Pharoah therefore decided to take her as his queen.

            Rav Yaakov Kaminetzky, in his Emet Le-Yaakov, embarks on a fascinating discussion of the etymology of the verb h.l.l., suggesting alternate definitions of the word vayehalelu in this context, whereby it refers more directly to a recommendation for marriage.  Rav Yaakov cites a verse in Sefer Tehillim (78:63) describing the punishments God brought upon Benei Yisrael in response to their betrayal: “Bachurav ochla eish u-vetulotav lo hulalu.”  The classic commentaries (Rashi, Ibn Ezra, Metzudot David, Metzudot Tziyon) translate this verse as, “Its [the nation’s] young men were consumed by fire, and its maidens were not brought under a canopy.”  The commentaries associate the word hulalu with the common Aramaic word hilula, which means “wedding.”  Quite possibly, then, when the Torah writes, “Va-yehalelu” in reference to Pharaoh’s advisors, it perhaps means not that they simply praised Sara, but that they recommended her to the king for marriage.  (Of course, one might argue that the root h.l.l. refers to marriage because brides and grooms are customarily praised at their weddings; thus, its usage in the context of marriage does not signify a separate meaning, but rather flows naturally from its primary meaning, “praise.”)

            Rav Yaakov then suggests another theory based on an interesting discussion of the Ran (Shabbat 5b) regarding the Aramaic root sh.d.kh, used in reference to matchmaking (like in the familiar modern term shiddukh).  The Ran explains the etymological origin of this word based on the Targum in Sefer Shoftim (5:31), which translates the word va-tishkot – which refers to peace and tranquility – as u-shedokhat.  Apparently, the Ran observes, the root sh.d.kh. corresponds to the Hebrew term sheket, and thus denotes peace of mind and serenity.  It is therefore used in reference to matchmaking, which is intended to help men and women achieve internal peace and tranquility by settling down with a lifelong partner.  Now Rav Yaakov notes that in Sefer Tehillim (89:10), the Targum translates the word teshabecheim, which generally means “praise,” as tashkiteim – a derivation of the root sh.k.t.  Seemingly, there is some connection between these two concepts – praise and serenity.  (It remains unclear why these two concepts should be connected to one another; Rav Yaakov does not address this point in his discussion.)  Conceivably, Rav Yaakov boldly suggests, we might extend this association to the other common word for praise – h.l.l.  If so, then here in Parashat Lekh-Lekha, where the Torah tells that Pharaoh’s servants “praised” Sara to Pharaoh, it actually means that they “made a match” between her and Pharaoh, as vayehalelu here relates to the notion of sheket, internal peace and contentment, which underlies the concept of shiddukhim, matchmaking.

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            In God’s first revelation to Avraham, as recorded in the opening verses of Parashat Lekh-Lekha, He promises the patriarch, “I shall make you a great nation, I will bless you and I will exalt your name; and you shall be a blessing” (12:2).  Rashi, citing the Gemara in Masekhet Pesachim (117b), writes that these promises allude to the first berakha of the shemoneh esrei prayer instituted many centuries later.  The first three promises – “I shall make you a great nation”; “I will bless you”; “I will exalt your name” – allude to the triple description of God in the shemoneh esrei, as “the God of Avraham, the God of Yitzchak and the God of Yaakov.”  The Gemara then comments, “Perhaps they will conclude [the berakha] by mentioning all [the patriarchs]?  The verse therefore states, ‘you shall be a blessing’ – they conclude by mentioning you, and not by mentioning them.”  In other words, the fourth of these promises – “and you shall be a blessing” – means that although we describe God in shemoneh esrei as the God of all three patriarchs, we conclude the first berakha by describing Him as “Magen Avraham” – the “Shield” of Avraham, singling out Avraham over the other two avot.

            Leaving aside the obvious question of how exactly these promises relate to the text of the shemoneh esrei prayer, let us deal with the more general issue, why we on the one hand describe the Almighty as God of all three patriarchs, while also singling out Avraham.  What significance is there in referring to God first as “Elokei Avraham, Elokei Yitzchak, ve-Elokei Yaakov,” and then describing Him solely in association with Avraham?

            Rav Shimon Schwab, in his Ma’ayan Beit Ha-sho’eiva, suggests that this dichotomy corresponds to the two different ways in which one approaches and serves the Almighty.  On the one hand, we relate to God based on our ancestral tradition, by following and strictly adhering to the laws, practices and values that have been consistently transmitted from one generation to the next.  But in addition, each individual must establish his personal path and approach within the parameters set by our ancient heritage.  While our primary responsibility is to perpetuate the tradition of our forefathers, the individual Jew is encouraged to carve out his own niche and follow his own, personal approach to avodat Hashem.

            Thus, as we begin our shemoneh esrei prayer, we approach the Almighty as both the God of the three patriarchs, as well as specifically the God of Avraham.  The first description refers to the primary obligation, of adherence to tradition, as represented by Yitzchak and Yaakov, who were raised with the monotheistic traditions of Avraham and whose primary challenge was to perpetuate that heritage (their independent qualities and contributions notwithstanding).  But in addition, we emphasize Avraham’s unique role as initiator, his having served God without any prior training and without any family tradition on which to base his beliefs and practices.  The description of God as specifically “Magen Avraham” thus corresponds to the second aspect of avodat Hashem, the personal path that one must chart and follow, within the general framework of our ancestral heritage, in serving the Creator and achieving spiritual greatness.