Lech Lecha: Time to Sin

One of the beautiful aspects of the Torah is that it presents its “heroes” not only through their greatness but also through their faults. Moreover, it is precisely through these faults that we see their greatness, how they mature, learn and grow from their experiences, becoming even greater people. Avarham Avinu at the akeidah is a very different Avraham from he who first descended to Egypt passing off his wife as his sister. He is not even the “same" person. It was Abram who went to Egypt and it was Avraham who went to the Akeidah. Similarly, Yaakov only becomes Yisrael after learning to confront his challenges, instead of running away from them.

When Kohelet teaches that “there is no righteous person in the land who does not sin” (7:20) he is not teaching that everyone, even the greatest, sins. We do not need Kohelet to teach us that. Rather, he is teaching that in order to become righteous one must have sinned. Only by making mistakes, by sinning and then learning from our sins can we, and do we, become righteous. Our Sages paraphrased this idea as they taught “in a place where the masters of repentance stand, the totally righteous do not stand” (Brachot 34b). Those who grow from their sins reach greater heights than those who have never sinned[1]. There is a reason why the best advocate for responsible drinking is a recovering alcoholic.  

One area in which it is so easy to stumble is in that of self-assessment, of thinking we are greater than we actually are. It is great to strive for greatness but it is imperative to know one’s limits, to have a realistic understanding of one’s potential.

“Mar Ukva said: I am like vinegar, son of wine, with respect to Father. My Father, if he were to eat today, would not eat cheese until tomorrow at this time. But me, only at this meal do I not eat cheese; at the next meal I will eat cheese” (Chulin 105a). Mar Ukva understood that he was not at the same level as his father[2]. While for his father meat and cheese had to separated by a full day such would have been inappropriate for his son. And it is inappropriate for us too; hence  Jewish custom follows the practice of Mar Ukva.

Unfortunately, Sarah, or to be more precise Sarai, made the mistake of overestimating her character - with tragic results. “Sarai, Abram’s wife, had borne him no children. She had an Egyptian maidservant whose name was Hagar. And Sarai said to Abram, Behold now, the Lord has restrained me from bearing: I pray thee, go in to my maid; it may be that I may obtain children by her” (Breisheet 16:1-2).

This is truly an amazing gesture. Sarai, realizing she was destined to remain barren offers her husband to take another wife. Not just any wife, but her maidservant, elevating her status from a maidservant to a wife[3]. This was a herculean, almost superhuman act. The problem is that Sarai was not Hercules nor super-human. Expecting that one not be jealous of a co-wife is just not realistic. Our Talmudic Sages rule that co-wives may not give testimony about each other because “they hate each other and want to harm them”. That may not be nice but it is true. And Sarai was no exception.

“When she [Sarai] saw that she had conceived, her mistress was lowered in her esteem… Then Sarai treated her harshly, and she ran away from her” (Breisheet 16:4,6).

The results were catastrophic. “Our mother did transgress by this affliction, and Abraham also by his permitting her to do so. And so, G-d heard her [Hagar’s] affliction and gave her a son who would be a wild-ass of a man, to afflict the seed of Abraham and Sarah with all kinds of affliction” (Ramban, 16:6)[4]. Tragically, the Ramban’s interpretation has proven to be true too many times.

That Sarai mistreated Hagar was to be expected and is most understandable in its context. The real mistake Sarai made was thinking she could make peace with her maidservant becoming her husband’s wife. That was a noble but misplaced, mistaken and ultimately tragic mis-assessment. Her actual treatment of Hagar was the totally predictable outcome.

Our Sages teach that one should say “when will my actions reach the level of Abraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov?” (Tann d’vei Eliyahu 25). This is a rhetorical question. It would be a fatal mistake to take this question at face value and actually think we can reach their level. We must always strive to be just a bit better than we are – slowly growing one small step at a time. But woe to the person who envisions themselves today as the one they aspire to be tomorrow.

 

[1] While we do all sin we don’t all sin in every single area of life. This could be because of the unlikely event that in one small area of life we are pretty much perfect or more likely because we never engage in certain aspects of life.

[2] Why exactly waiting 24 hours between meat and milk is somehow equated with extra piety is an most interesting question. I would love to hear your suggestions.

[3] Note how the Torah tells us Sarai took “Hagar, the Egyptian maidservant” and gave her to Abram as “a wife”.

[4] The Ramban understands sefer Breisheet as the Template for Jewish history with the actions of our patriarchs and matriarchs reverberating through history as a form of prophecy. (See his commentary to Breisheet 12:6).