Nov 02/06 — Parashat Lech Lecha

Commentary by Rabbi Lawrence Pinsker

In his commentary to Genesis, Dr. Nahum Sarna notes the following:

The story of Abraham opens without an identifying formula or preliminary observation of the type that introduces the Noah narrative. The patriarch bursts upon the scene of history with astounding suddenness. ... God’s call comes in an instant without forewarning or preparation.

We should note, however, that this is not entirely true: the Torah, in fact, has told us several things about Avram (his name is changed to “Avraham” much later, in Genesis 17:4). The genealogy that closed last week’s portion (see Genesis 11:26-32) gives us some basic facts:

1) Avram was a descendant of Noah’s son, Shem;
2) Avram has two brothers, Nachor and Haran, who die well before their father’s death;
3) Avram’s father was Terach;
4) Avram takes as his wife a woman named Sarai (her name is later changed in 17:15) and she was unable to bear children; and
5) Terach, Avram’s father, took his whole family and set out for the land of Canaan, but did not reach his destination, instead stopping in Haran, where he eventually died.

On the face of it, this information does not challenge Sarna’s basic point. We don’t know much about Avram’s character or why God chooses him to make God’s presence known.

Nor do we know why Terach headed west to Canaan or why he stopped in Haran. In fact, other than the fact that he’s mentioned last in the genealogy, we have no special reason to take note of Terach and his son. God’s call to Avram comes as a sudden surprise, seemingly without warning or preparation.

Yet somehow the Torah seems to want it both ways. It’s a matter of logic and anything but accidental that God’s call to Avram will help to fulfill Noah’s earlier blessing for the lineage of Noah’s son Shem (Genesis 9:26).

It also seems an unlikely coincidence that Terach set out for the same land to which his son Avram is directed when God charges Avram with a special mission in God’s behalf.

Finally, looking at the whole genealogy, we also must notice that there is considerably more information about Terach and his family and that they are listed last—just before God’s call to Avram.

Perhaps, the Torah is teaching us that we experience such transformative moments in both ways—both as a sudden surprise and as part of a larger story, whose patterns we don’t always recognize while we are living them. Only later do we reflect on our experience and see how the details have fit together to produce our unique circumstances.

Sadly, we have a better grasp of this through medicine and physiology. When someone we love becomes ill, we are surprised or shocked. It was so sudden! Later we understand that the illness had been developing undetected for a long time and often remember earlier symptoms that were ignored or dismissed.

The same thing happens to us in other parts of our lives. We surprise others (and sometimes even ourselves) by making a big change in our personal or professional pursuits and obligations, only to understand later that the change had been coming for a long time and reflects long-term issues and forces in how we have been living.

In such moments we understand the idea that God’s “hand” can be felt in our lives. We sense both the powerful surprise of these moments and we eventually recognize their place in a larger story. That dual experience—of initial surprise and of later recognition—can help teach us patience and also humility in the face of our sense that we were unprepared for such changes. For some, as for Avram, I suspect it also can teach us faith—to trust that change is necessary, and can be for the better.

It is also strange that God tells Avram to leave his eretz, moledet and beit av. He certainly was not in his birthplace or land, and since his father died you might say he was in none of those places when he received “the call.” But perhaps the revelation and command of God does not diminish with time, but rather waits for us to become sensitized to its presence and its scope. When the moment finally arrives in which we realize the implications of what has happened and “get” the bigger picture, leading us to become different people.

Even though Avram’s father Terach could not complete the journey to Canaan, Avram grasped the message from God and embarked on the completion of the task. As Pirkei Avot teaches us this principle: Lo Alecha ha-m’lacha ligmor velo ata ben horin lehibatel mimenah.—“It is not your obligation to finish the entire task, but you are not free to desist from making the effort.” Hayom katzar ve-ha-m’lacha m’ruba...u-Va’al habayit dochek...— “The day is short and the task is enormous—but the Master of the House is insistent.”

This is perhaps one of the most glorious aspects of our ancestors’ vision of life: to see life as brimming over with surprise, and that revelation takes place in every life and is just as overwhelming, intense, and rewarding now as it once was. Certainly this perspective on the emergence of events in our lives is a major part of our hope and our strength as individuals and as a people. Despair cannot overwhelm those for whom God is continually a source of new insight.

Shabbat Shalom.