Birth of a Covenant
God tells Abram to leave the comforts of home and go out to repair himself--and the entire world.
The history of the world does not begin well.
At the climax of the seven days of creation, God creates human beings--the first and only creatures endowed with freedom and agency. God could have chosen to create a world in which obedience was a given, in which the Creator decrees and creatures simply do as they are told. But God chooses instead to take a gamble, and to create as the pinnacle of creation a being endowed with the enduring possibility of flouting God's will.
Beings who do good because they have no other choice don't seem to interest God very much; beings who choose to serve God and do the right while fully conscious of their capacity (and even propensity) to do evil are divinely significant. God creates a world in which, God hopes, human beings will freely choose to do the right by loving each other--and God.
The first book of the Bible might well be titled, "Genesis, or the Book of Divine Disappointment." God creates Adam and Eve and gives them everything they could possibly want, except for permission to eat the fruit of one tree (Genesis 2:17). Adam and Eve disobey, and the consequences are well known. After departing Eden, they start a family. Soon, the very first nuclear family explodes into violence, as one brother kills another. The earth becomes more densely populated, but God's dismay only builds. Again and again, human beings disappoint God by pursuing pleasure on the one hand (Gen. 6:1-4) and power on the other (Gen. 11:1-9). What they fail to pursue is what God values--the good, the just, and the holy.
In this week's Torah portion, the story takes an interesting turn. God seems to decide that rather than work with humanity as a whole (He has not exactly met with resounding success up to this point), He will set aside one particular people--one particular person, actually--and assign him and his descendants the task of introducing goodness into the world. Enter Abram, who becomes the father of the eternal covenant between God and the Jewish people. Put simply, the covenant is about a group of human beings who agree to share God's dream of building a world in which human dignity is real and the presence of God is manifest. The world to which God and Israel aspire is a world in which human beings give highest priority to love and compassion rather than to hedonism and power.
God's first words to Abram are the first words of our Torah portion, and the key to what God expects of us is contained in these opening verses:
"The Lord said to Abram, 'Go forth from your land, your native land, from your father's house, to the land that I will show you" (12:1).
Abram is told first and foremost that he must be willing to go, to leave the places in his life that are safe and comfortable, and to question the status quo. Leaving the land of his father is both a literal obligation and a metaphor for the genuinely religious life. He must journey toward a place that is radically different from what he, and humanity as a whole, have known until now.
God does not inform him of his destination in advance, but asks him for trust and a willingness to head toward the unknown. It is hard to imagine a more radical command: Give up everything and go toward the place that God will show you--again, both a metaphor and a concrete reality. The religious, covenantal life offers no guarantee of security, no promise of ease or convenience. Instead, it asks us to shatter the idols of security and settledness, and to aspire to a different kind of reality. The covenant is born in the moment when God calls for the courage to abandon complacency.
The opening Hebrew wordsLekh Lekha,
translated above as "go forth," are actually quite ambiguous. More literally, they suggest something like, "Go for yourself," or even "Go to yourself."
Rashi, the unparalleled giant of Jewish biblical exegesis, interprets them to mean that Abram's journey is for his own good, and his own benefit. Abram is told not merely that he has to give up everything and look for something better, richer, and more in tune with God's values, but that he must understand that the journey is for his own good. Abram can only be what he is intended to be (a man fully conscious that he, and all others, are created in the image of God) when his own wants, needs, and aspirations correspond to God's. There is no ultimate contradiction between pursuing my own good and God's: They are, in the covenantal understanding, one and the same.