What follows is a personal understanding and interpretation of this week’s parsha. It is not informed by the traditional commentaries or by midrashei Chazal, although those are relevant to a well-rounded understanding of the words of the Torah in the context of the moral message we seek to derive.
I am interested in the person of Abraham and what he experiences. I am aware that literary interpretations of pesukim in the Torah and perceptions of the Avot and others in the Torah and the Tanach generally as “figures” in the “text” are frowned upon by some. Nevertheless, my personal belief is that there is much to be gained from examining and learning the personhood of Abraham is it appears in the merest p’shat.
For me, this parsha is about the “learning curve” of Abraham.
The initial question I have is “why Abraham?” There were other seekers of God in ancient times, other righteous men. Chanoch, Noah; according to the tradition, Shem and Ever. So why Abraham?
The Torah actually answers this question. God says, how can I not tell Abraham what I am about to do to Sodom and Gomorrah? I (God) know that Abraham will command his sons and his family to follow the ways of God, to do righteousness and justice.
The difference between Abraham and all the others is that Abraham has made religion a family matter, not merely the private practice or custom of one or two seekers after truth, individual hermits. Striving for truth and justice becomes familial and not merely societal.
Abraham, according to the parsha, is a little unsure of his bond to God; he has expressed some skepticism, seeing that his wife is old. Of course Sarah returns the favor and says he is the old one!
Nevertheless he is willing to take a chance on God. His migration testifies to his willingness to renew even at great sacrifice, which immigration almost always entails. So the first plateau is willingness to be bold.
But what of God? Abraham has his own notions of truth and justice. Are they the same as God’s? Abraham talks (not quite debates—this is left to Job/Iyov). Abraham and God are on a level playing field, because they each “walk away” from each other at the end of this round. Abraham learns that God is just and that both he and God can approximate their notions of justice.
Abraham sees the smoke rising from the destroyed cities. He learns that evil is ultimately self-defeating, a hard lesson to learn, because despots and criminals never seem to get it.
What next? Abraham has his run-in with Abimelech, king of Gerar and his court, when Sarah is taken. (A reflection of the Philistine Proto-Helenic obsession with aesthetics and pulchritude?) For this offense, the women of the court are punished with childlessness. Abraham learns another lesson, which is that God’s justice is proportional (midah keneged midah).
Further on, after Isaac is born and all are in a festive mood, Sarah demands that Ishmael be driven away with his mother into the desert (back to Egypt, where they came from!). Abraham has another lesson, this time a hard one. A leader has to make choices. God could not drive Ishmael and Hagar away, only Abraham can, and he does so with a heavy heart and genuine misgivings, with a sense of loss and regret. But perhaps the best should not be the enemy of the good.
Abraham encounters Abimelech yet again. This time Abimelech comes to Abraham heavy, packing heat.
They want to cut a deal. What could Abraham possibly learn from this? Kings with heavy guns don’t need peace agreements. Abraham has to see by this point that military power will not save him. Alliances can be broken or revoked. They can end up not being worth the price of cut-up sheep.
Abraham’s most difficult test follows, the binding of Isaac, the Akeidah, truly one of the great mysteries of the Torah. Put yourself in Abraham’s shoes (or sandals). You have just learned that God is just, that that is the essence of true religion, not paganism or witchcraft. But now Abraham is being told to revert to the old Canaanite religion. (The Canaanites, including their descendants, the Carthagininans, practiced human sacrifice, as attested by Roman writers.) Abraham has to make a decision. He decides, yes, do what God says, sacrifice your son. I guess I was wrong. I guess we have to keep the old religion. But Abraham learns (in the nick of time) what every SAT prep course teaches: Go with your first guess.
Abraham’s first guess is that God is just. The Akeidah re-confirms in Abraham’s mind that he and He are indeed on a level playing field and that moral intuition can (should??) be a guide to human action. A very dangerous, perhaps revolutionary proposition.
There is also a lesson learned in the very last short parsha/paragraph of Vayera. A lesson of magnitude that perhaps should be deferred to another day.
Lawyer and ordained rabbi Noah Burstein, a 35-year-resident of Teaneck, placed third in the nation in this past Sunday’s U.S. Finals of the Chidon HaTanach. Burstein recently celebrated his 70th birthday, and Vayera is his bar mitzvah parsha.
