Dvar Torah on Parshat Lech-Lecha

This week's parsha, Lech Lecha, introduces us to Avraham. God's choice of him to be his representative on earth, and for that relationship to be passed on to the children he does not yet have, is the central theme of Avraham's life. In one of their more dramatic interactions, the ברית בין הבתרים - The Covenant of the Pieces - which is entered into by God and Avraham passing between the halved pieces of a variety of animal sacrifices,  God informs Avraham of the exile and slavery in Egypt to which his great-grandchildren will be subjected. He reassures Avraham that all will end well, and that he, Avraham himself, will personally return to his fathers [die] peacefully, and be buried at a good old age.

Rashi, in explaining these reassuring words, takes an interesting approach, which I would summarize as a kind of "see-no-evil" policy for Avraham. The promise that he would return to his fathers in peace is understood to mean that he will die before the advent of the Egyptian exile, and therefore not see all the negative things which God foretold for his children. Rashi then adds that the use of phrase "return to your fathers" is a bit strange as a way to describe Avraham's death; his particular father, Terach, was an idol worshipper, and it seems inappropriate, to say the least, to connect the righteous Avraham to him in death - surely Avraham will be going to a different place when he passes away. Rashi reassures us that all is well; Terach did teshuva  - repented - in his old age, and accepted the true God, making Avraham's return to him appropriate. 

Rashi then goes on to explain the final phrase - and be buried at a good old age - as meaning that Avraham's less successful son, Ishmael, will also repent before Avraham dies, so that Avraham's life will end well, with his father as well as both his sons, Yitzchak and Ishmael,  in the profit column. In addition, Rashi tells us, Avraham's really problematic grandson, Esav, will not turn to his life of crime until after Avraham's death - in fact, on the very day he dies, Esav goes off the path (which makes you wonder about cause and effect). This is why, Rashi adds, Avraham dies at the relatively young age of 175, five years earlier than his son, Yitzchak, will. His life is cut short in order to spare him seeing Esav go off the rails.

Well, it all seems pretty neat and tidy. Terach and Ishmael repent and wind up OK, making Avraham's last days especially pleasant, but that last bit about Esav is a real zinger - better to lose five years of your life than see your grandson turn bad, even though he will, in fact, go bad, and all that is accomplished is, as I said earlier, a kind of see-no-evil situation, in which Avraham dies so that he simply doesn't have to directly confront or deal with unhappy realities - the exile to Egypt, the wickedness of Esav. The evils are real, and will happen. It's just that Avraham will not have to see them. 

What are we to make of this? Well, the depth of one's concern for the status of one's immediate family members - are they good or bad, on our side or not? On God's side or not? - which extends from Avraham back to his father and foward to his children and grandchildren, is recognizable, and is still with us today. Parents want their kids to turn out OK, do well, be good, follow in their footsteps - especially when the parents adhere to a very specific set of values and practices, the rejection of which is seen as a rejection of a very central part of the parents' identities, of who they are as people. With that in mind, we certainly understand how it is a blessing for Avraham to die rather than see how it all seems to go wrong - his children exiled and enslaved, Esav off the rails. And thank goodness he does live long enough - not too long, but long enough - to get to see his father Terach and son Ishmael straighten out!

On the other hand, one is tempted to ask: really? Avraham would rather be dead than face an Esav gone bad, or see his descendants struggling in Egypt? Surely his presence might be of some assistance. It certainly seems that way with Esav, who goes off the rails immediately upon Avraham's death. Wouldn't Avraham's ongoing presence, perhaps even active participation, for at least another five years, have done Esav some good? Or helped his grandchildren, in some way, do better in Egypt? Wouldn't they all have been better off with him still around? How exactly is it a good thing for God to promise him that he will be absent, dead, for all these difficult but important events?  And what are we, as parents, supposed to do with this? Is it really better to die, to not see or know, rather than confront, assist, or even just be a part of, who your children end up being? Are we meant to be so committed to them getting it right that we would literally rather not be around to see them - and help them if we can - when they get it wrong?

I would like to propose a solution. Dying five years before you are destined to should, I think, be understood as a punishment, or at the very least, a failure. Dying before one's time usually is. I think that perhaps the promises made by God to Avraham as to how hunky-dory everything is going to be at the end of his life are actually not such a good thing. Avraham is so committed to the project, so single-minded in his pursuit of the destiny that God had planned for him and his children, that he is unable to face the apparently natural, neccessary, and unavoidable deviations along the way, the bumps, bruises, and mis-steps that will be an integral part of the journey. When God promises him that he will die at a good old age, He is being kind, but He is also recognizing and accomodating a weakness Avraham apparently has, an Achilles heel. A stronger, more well-rounded Avraham would be able to face family members who do things differently, or even get it wrong. He would be able to deal with bad things happening to his descendants, and might even be able to help in some way. Avraham's unbending obediance to what he sees as the plan (and this has a lot to do with next week's Binding of Isaac) is, in fact, not a good thing. It has authenticity, power, and value as an example to us, but is not the full picture, not the whole story. A better Avraham, a better father and grandfather, a better leader of his people, would be able to face even these unpleasant realities and, in some way, deal with them.

The story of Avraham, and of all our patriarchs and matriarchs, is a story of parents and children, as sort of every story is. Avraham's single-minded commitment to the project, to have children who will accept and live within the covenant with God, is a cornerstone of Jewish life, faith and belief, but the road to get us there is apparently a bit too complicated for Avraham to handle. If the only way for Avraham to navigate this path successfully, to feel good and right about it, is to kill him before things begin to go wrong, then I guess his single-mindedness, his total commitment, is not such a good idea. We all need the strength to be loyal to more than one value at a time; to be fully dedicated to not only whatever our belief system might be, but also to our children as independent people, with their own journeys, and to ourselves as parents as well as Jews, as members of a family as well as members of a people. A family, and a people, like every other: with warts and all.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Shimon Felix