The challenge for any rabbi, any teacher really, is take old stories, and find something new to teach. When you find that moment of insight, of clarity, it is wonderful. It is that aha moment. That light bulb. This portion is one of those portions. There is so much in it and we know the stories so well. But we read them every year to plumb their depths. To go deeper. To have that aha moment.
Abraham is sitting at the opening of his tent at the heat of the day. Not like today which began with snow here in Elgin. He is recovering. He is hurting. This is right after his circumcision.
From this we learn that even G-d, in the guise of a messenger, an angel comes to visit Abraham when he is sick, recovering from his circumcision. We therefore, in striving to be like G-d, have an obligation to visit the sick.
He looks up and he sees three men approaching. He warmly welcomes them. And races to serve them together with his wife Sarah.
From this we learn the importance of audacious hospitality. Serve everyone. Because some of your guests may be angels, messengers.
From this we learn that each messenger only has one job to do. A discreet task. Do one job and do it well. One came to visit the sick—Abraham after the circumcision. One came to announce the conception and birth of Isaac and one is sent to warn Sodom and Gemorah.
From this we learn, we too should find one thing to do and do it well. Find one thing you are concerned about and concentrate on that. Focus. Gather your energy. Work on it passionately. Frederick Buechner says that the place that G-d calls us “is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” Find that place.
From this portion we learn that G-d shades the truth in order to be kind. Sarah laughs when she find out she will have a child. “Really,” she asks, when I and my husband are so old?” When G-d repeats this story to Abraham, G-d omits the part about Abraham being too old. We learn that anything is possible with G-d. We also learn a way of communicating. Is it necessary? Is it truthful? Is it kind? If it is not all three we don’t have to say it. In fact, using G-d as our model, we shouldn’t say it.
And all of this is just in the first chapter of our portion this morning.
What I really want to teach is about Abraham arguing with G-d. How many of you have ever been angry, really, really angry with G-d? It is OK. We learn this from Abraham. What we also need to learn is how to channel that anger and use it constructively.
We know that Noah was a righteous man in his generation but that Abraham was a righteous man for all the generations. He wasn’t perfect and that shows up later in our story. But right here, right now, he has the audacity to argue with G-d.
My father’s definition of a Jew is something who questions, thinks and argues. That starts right here. Abraham is passionate about arguing for the safety of Sodom and Gemorah. He negotiates with G-d. If there are 50 righteous people, will you destroy the cities? What about 40? Twenty? What about 10? If there are 10 righteous people will You still destroy the city?
Abraham is not the only person who argues with G-d.
Moses argued with G-d after the sin of the Golden Calf. He had the audacity to challenge G-d and remind G-d that these were G-d’s people, and if G-d destroyed them, what would the Egyptians think. Yep, the old “what will the neighbors say” argument. And it worked.
Like Abraham, Moses was a righteous person.
Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev did. He challenged G-d to a law suit one Rosh Hashanah, to an actual beit din, court of Jewish law, where he put G-d on trial. He argued that G-d had no right to prolong the Jewish people’s exile from the land of Israel when other more sinful nations lived in peace:
“I do not know how to ask You, Lord of the world, and even if I did know, I could not bear to do it. How could I venture to ask You why everything happens as it does, why we are driven from one exile into another, why our foes are allowed to torment us so. But in the Hagadah, the parent of the “one who does not yet know how to ask” is told “it is incumbent upon You to disclose it to the child.” And Lord of the world, am I not Your child? I do not ask You to reveal to me the secret of Your ways—I could not stand it! But show me one thing, show me what this very moment means to me, what it demands of me, what You G-d are telling me through my life at this moment. I do not ask You to tell me why I suffer, but only whether I suffer for your sake.”
Like Abraham, Levi Yitzchak was a righteous person.
Eli Wiesel uses this for his basis of “The Trial of G-d” in which he describes a scene he witnessed as a teenager in the concentration camps. Three sages put G-d on trial for the Holocaust and found G-d guilty. After announcing their guilty verdict, they announced that it was time for mincha, the afternoon prayers.
Like Abraham, Eli Wiesel was a righteous person.
From this, we have learned that my father was right. It is OK for Jews to argue. Even to argue with G-d.
But we learn more.
From this we learn that we need 10 adult Jews to make a minyan, for a community. This summer when we drove through Nebraska, we drove through a town with 14 residents. I don’t think I could live there. Too small. Way too small. I’m not sure what that magic number is, but 14 is too small.
Based on this very portion, in traditional Jewish law a minyan, a community, is a minimum of 10 adult Jewish men. Over the age of 13. You need 10 for a full service, To say Barchu, To chant the Amidah outloud. To recite Kaddish. To read Torah.
Today, and for decades, this congregation has counted women as full members of the kahal, of the congregation. If we have 10 Jews present at a service, male or female, we do all the parts. Yet at least once a year a visitor will ask if we are counting women. I have developed a stock answer, which is that we do count women and not just because I am a rabbi who happens to be a woman, but if you only count men I am sure there will be enough. Occasionally, since we embrace diversity, we will have a member who only is comfortable counting men for a shiva minyan or something and again we make sure that happens.
But what if the number is not 10? I am not talking about the tradition of counting the Torah as the 10th a younger child holding a chumash. What if we look at this teaching from Pirke Avot,
“Rabbi Chalafta the son of Dosa of the village of Chanania would say: Ten who sit together and occupy themselves with Torah, the Divine Presence rests amongst them, as is stated: “The Almighty stands in the congregation of G‑d” (Psalms 82:1). And from where do we know that such is also the case with five? From the verse, “He established His band on earth” (Amos 9:6). And three? From the verse, “He renders judgment in the midst of the tribunal” (Psalms 82:1). And two? From the verse, “Then the G‑d-fearing conversed with one another, and G‑d listened and heard” (Malachi 3:16). And from where do we know that such is the case even with a single individual? From the verse, “Every place where I have My name mentioned, I shall come to you and bless you” (Exodus 20:21). (Pirke Avot 2:6)
Noel Paul Stookey, the Paul of Peter, Paul and Mary, seems to draw on this verse for his Wedding Song,
“For whenever two or more of you are gathered in his name. There is love. There is love.” Love is another name for G-d.
And it is in this very parsha that the word love, ahava first appears in the Torah. At another moment, when you might think Abraham would argue with G-d, he seems to be silent. “Take your son, your only son, the one you love, take Isaac…” The one you love. Asher ahavta. Jews, Muslims, and Christians have argued about this passage, just 19 verses for millennium. I am still reading the book, But Where is the Lamb. Does it show Abraham’s obedience to G-d? His unconditional love for G-d? What kind of G-d would make such a horrific demand? What kind of father would comply? The midrash argues that Abraham DID question G-d. It is a dialogue. Take your son. But I have two sons. Take your only son. But they are each the only son of their mother. Take the one you love. But I love them both. Take Isaac.
My colleague, Rabbi Tom Samuels taught this weekend in the name of Rabbi Kula, “There’s madness in imagining what we would be willing to give in order to finally and unambiguously prove our love. And there is madness in imaging what we would need in order to clearly and unequivocally know that we are loved.” Samuels continues to ask the hard questions, “Are we all not similar, at least in some ways, to both Abraham and to God, in our own relationships? In our own need to both prove our love to someone else, as well as to assure ourselves of someone else’s love for us? Rabbi Kula continues that ultimately, our basic human condition requires of us to “embrace the fear that we may burn-up in our giving and in our receiving of love.” In the end of the Biblical story, Abraham and God come to their senses. They figure out a compromise, a solution, to save both Isaac’s life as well as their sense of selves. With this in mind, let us work towards finding that ever-elusive balance that straddles being both the giver and the receiver of love.” This is Kula’s and Samuel’s chidush.
This is about relationships. G-d’s to Abraham. Abraham to G-d. Abraham to Lot. G-d’s to the earth. Us with G-d. Rabbi Michael Rothbaum argues about Abraham arguing with the “no less than the Throne of G-d,” that G-d must not slaughter the guilty if innocent are present.” Rothbaum points out that Abraham’s argument is as relevant today as it was then. And the argument is preceded by a speech by G-d, “a speech both to nobody and directly to us, a soliloquy sent on the wind to spread seeds of justice throughout time. “Should I hide from Abraham what I’m going to do” to Sodom and Gomorah, God asks. But — yadativ. “I know him. I’ve built a relationship with him.” And why him? “For the purpose of obligating his children and his household to keep the path of God.” Derech HaShem. The path of God. And what is the path of God? La’asot tzedakah umishpat. To do justice. To make righteousness. The purpose of Abraham’s existence, of Jewish existence? According to God, in the Torah, it’s la’asot tzedakah umishpat. To make justice and righteousness.” This is Rothbaum’s chidush, his new teaching.
Rabbi Heidi Hoover offers this new teaching:
“One of the interpretations of why Abraham doesn’t argue about the Akeidah is that he trusts God that God will somehow take care of Isaac. But how did Abraham develop that trust? If you read the Sodom and Gomorrah conversation as being not Abraham challenging God and demanding that God live up to a standard of justice, but Abraham being shaken and disturbed at the thought of all that destruction, and asking questions to understand God’s intention and what justice is for this God. God reassures Abraham that even a tiny minority of innocent people would be saved, even though it would leave a much huger number of wicked people alive. In my reading, God would have done this anyway, and is not agreeing to requests from Abraham, but giving Abraham information about God’s intention. So Abraham learns about what God means by “justice” in that conversation, and that God will go to great lengths to save the innocent. That’s what develops the trust that allows him to follow God’s command re: Isaac. Knowing Isaac is innocent, he knows God will somehow save Isaac.” This is Hoover’s chidush.
From this portion we learn one more thing. At least. Here Is my chidush. Abraham argued to save Sodom and Gemorah just because they were human beings. They were not Israelites. They were not Jews. They were human beings created in the image of G-d. Abraham was arguing not to protect his own self-interests. He was arguing to save the guilty and the innocent. Everyone. Every body.
So what do you do on a cold winter’s night for Kabbalat Shabbat, Friday night services when you have eight adult Jews and two pastors? One of those pastors had recently lost his wife and he came because he wanted to say Kaddish, to experience Kaddish? I knew them personally and knew them to be righteous. What I did was teach the Pirke Avot text I just shared and talked about the Abraham arguing to save Sodom and Gemorrah for everyone. Then we said Kaddish. That was the chidush, the new teaching.