Abraham and Lot

Last weekend, I found myself in a discussion about high school reunions. I have not attended any of my high school reunions and had myself removed from the school's call list shortly after graduating. It's nothing against the school or my classmates; I just have no interest in seeing most of the 800+ people in my graduating class and the ones I do care to see, I've kept in touch with. I live 700 miles from my hometown. I left for educational and professional opportunities and at this point I have no intention of moving back. I've stayed in touch with some family and friends who are still in the area, but I've drifted apart from others.

How do we choose with whom we remain in touch and which relationships we let slide?

This week we read parsha Lech Lecha (Genesis 12:1-17:27). There is a lot to unpack in this portion, some of which I've discussed on this blog before. This year, however, I want to focus on the relationships between Abraham and his family.

Midrash tells us that Abraham's father was an idol maker and that when Abraham was a young man, he was left in charge of his father's shop, where he mocked the customers and smashed the idols. When God came to Abraham and told him to go forth from his home to a new land, Abraham left and never returned. He and his wife, Sarah, along with his nephew, Lot, traveled together throughout the region until they had both amassed too many flocks, servants, and herders to share the same land peacefully. After some arguments among their herders over land use, Abraham and Lot decided to part ways amicably. Later, when Lot was taken captive during war, Abraham rallied his men on a successful rescue mission.

Unlike when Abraham left his family at the beginning of the parsha, the separation of Abraham and Lot did not mark an end to their interaction. Did Abraham actively avoid contact with his father after he left or did they just drift apart? Why did Abraham and Lot remain close, despite their competition for land? Why have I remained close with some people over time despite great distances between us, while allowing other relationships to lapse?

Abraham charging into battle after his nephew is a big gesture, an obvious display of affection. This week, I'm wondering who I would charge into battle for and who I could take just five minutes to call as a small, but important touch point of ongoing relationship building.

Shabbat Shalom.

Babel

This week's Torah portion is Noah. Things move fast in the first few portions of the Torah. Just last week there were only two people on Earth and now there is a whole world of people. After God floods the world, Noah and his family quickly repopulate. In the middle of a recounting of Shem's lineage, we read about the Tower of Babel (Genesis 11).

The Torah notes that "all the earth had the same language" (Genesis 11:1) and that the people gathered together in a valley and decided to build a tower to the heavens. Midrash (the Oral Torah) tells us that the people wanted to build a tower with a statue and sword on top to wage war against God (Artscroll Bereishis, The Sapirstein Edition Rashi, Genesis 11:1 note). If a person fell from the tower during construction, everyone kept working, but if someone dropped a brick, they mourned the loss of the brick and the delay it caused their work. In their single-minded focus on building the tower, life ceased to be precious; the people did not value the humanity of their fellow man. Being of one mind became toxic and destructive. So God gave them all different languages and dispersed them throughout the world. On one hand, when everyone spoke the same language and were of the same mind, they were able to join together in a unified undertaking of massive proportions. On the other hand, there was no voice of dissent among them to question their violent tendencies. Giving them different languages and dispersing them not only disrupted their endeavors, but diversified humanity as well.

Science backs up God here with a theory called the edge effect. You can learn more about it from this Hidden Brain podcast episode on the topic, but in short, studies on the edge effect show that working with people from diverse backgrounds increases the creativity of all involved. While it is natural to want to cluster with people who understand you and share your background, scientific and creative breakthroughs are more likely to come from diverse groups of people working together.

I can't help but draw parallels between the Tower of Babel and the political toxicity of our society today. When we surround ourselves only with people who think like us and only consume media that reinforces our beliefs, we are creating little Babels for ourselves. From our little towers of sameness where everyone speaks the same language, we propose to wage war on big ideas (capitalism, socialism, political correctness, the patriarchy, Big Pharma, etc), and reject the humanity and worth of anyone who does not contribute to our cause. What we can learn from the Tower of Babel and the edge effect, however, is that it is not good or productive for us to surround ourselves with like voices. Listening to only one perspective seems to inevitably lead us down a path to war. God's solution can be a model for our own attempts to do better today - diversify. Read multiple sources, talk to and really listen to the concerns of others, collaborate, learn a new language.

Shabbat Shalom

And Cain said to Abel...

This week, we read parsha Bereishit, the beginning of the Torah. We could spend an entire year just unpacking everything in this one portion of the Torah from Genesis 1:1-6:8, but this week I want to focus on Cain and Abel.

After God created the world and Adam and Eve ate from the tree of knowledge and were expelled from the Garden of Eden, they had two sons, Cain and Abel. Cain and Abel both made offerings to God, but Abel offered the best of what he had and Cain did not, so God favored Abel, and Cain became jealous.

In his jealousy, Cain said to Abel "..." and then killed him (Genesis 4:8). It is the first murder in the Torah, in human history, and the Torah does not record what Cain said to Abel. We can guess, of course. When the Greeks translated the Torah, they added "And Cain said to Abel, 'Come, let us go into the field,'" which makes sense given that the very next line says that Cain killed Abel in the field. But any guess that we make about the exchange is ultimately just that - a guess. So let's look at it as it was written, without dialogue.

I look at the story of Cain and Abel as a tale of the things we leave unsaid. In the blank space of those ellipses, I am left wondering if Cain even understood himself in the moment, or if his inability to speak to Abel mirrored his own internal struggle at self-reflection. Did Cain think through his emotions? Did he say to himself, "Come, let me try to understand what made me so upset?" Or did he fly into a blind rage and refuse to admit, even to himself, what he was about to do? Maybe he didn't say anything and just let his feelings of inadequacy fester. Midrash teaches that in the space of those ellipses, Cain started an argument with Abel and used it as a pretext to kill him. Whatever the case, it is clear that there was no honest, open conversation.

When words fail us, when communication breaks down, when we find ourselves unable to share our feelings with others, it harms our relationships and limits our possibilities in the world. So, even when it is hard, when we are overwhelmed by emotion and words seem meaningless or inadequate to the situation, it is important to name it. Earlier in this portion, God speaks the whole world into being, showing us the power of words. Don't take that power for granted. Don't leave ellipses in your life.

Shabbat Shalom.