Lech Lecha 5763 - Rabbi Menashe Bleiweiss

If you needed a quick vort for the Shabbos table, the first place to look certainly would not be the collected works of HaRav Don Yitzchak ben Yehuda Abrabanel (b. 5197 - d. 5268).

No, the Abrabanel was happily not of our attention-deficit, impress-them-with-your-superficial-b'kius, dial-a-daf age. His sprawling parsha commentaries demand diligence and time - but the rewards! Stewing like savory cholent, they percolate and bubble up, mitztamek vetov lo over the smoldering heat of focused study.

He invites our active participation by posing a host of sharp questions - 5, 10, 20, 40, more - often too many to internalize without chazara- review. Each series of questions covers a self-contained section of text. He then presents his sweeping, systematic mahalach to the entire section, resolving his questions sequentially with a virtuoso's touch. From the Abrabanel's perspective, the Torah takes on a completely new, profound dimension.

Consider his brief (by his standards at least) account of Hagar's revelation in Parshas Lech Lecha. (I recommend at this point that you open Sefer Breishis 16:1 - 16 and keep Rashi's comments close at hand; if you need space for the s'farim near your computer, may I suggest that you place your track-pad and your assorted high-tech chachkis in the waste paper basket.) Notice as we proceed that Abrabanel's pshat only sometimes corresponds with Rashi's - but he would have no difficulty justifying his original ideas in the language of a verse or through Medrashei Chazal.

Sarah Imeinu is distressed because of her infertility - not because she wants selfishly to become an "em habanim semeicha," but because her greatest longing is to conceive a holy child with Avraham Avinu. She foresees the fulfillment of Hashem's promise - that Avraham's descendents would inherit the Land of Canaan and become a great nation - and she wants to play a part in the redemptive drama.

When she says to Avraham, "Behold now Hashem has restrained me from conceiving" (v. 2), she is pointing out that in all the Divine promises, her name is conspicuously left out of the equation. After 10 years of infertility, she concludes that she, and not her husband, must be the problem. It seems that some other woman must have been destined to conceive the great nation with Avraham. This is why she uses the present tense "na" - now, after these 10 years of living in the Land without realizing their quest, she acknowledges that the misfortune is hers alone.

Now, she continues, take my maid and "perhaps I will be built through her." Not that there is any merit in bringing her into her home, as Rashi posits. Rather, Sarah thinks that she will raise her maid's son, and thereby merit as if she bore him herself. Chazal indeed cite raising someone else's child as one of the ways a person can fulfill the mitzvah of P'ru Ur'vu.

Sarah prefers Hagar as a wife for Avraham. A different woman might come to dominate the family - and thereby diminish the kedusha of their household. She repeats the present tense "na" to emphasize the importance of his marrying Hagar now, right away, before someone else might emerge as a potential match. With this understanding of Sarah's motivations, the first 2 questions are resolved.

For his part, Avraham seems reluctant to agree. Hagar came as part of Sarah's nichseh tzon barzel property from Pharoah, and he is loath to benefit from that which is not his. According to Chazal, Sarah Imeinu begs and screams until he relents. He doesn't just listen to the words of his wife, but to her voice ("lekol Sarai," v. 2), to every argument and nuance that emanates from her speech.

Avraham certainly does not marry Hagar to quell his own desires, nor even to bring Hashem's promises to fruition (they would take place anyway, in their own time). He simply hearkens to his wife's voice. This is why he doesn't hasten to do anything until Sarah herself presents her maid in marriage (as an "isha," v.3 - not as a mere concubine, but as a full-fledged wife). Sarah too is identified in the same verse as "eishes Avram- the wife of Avram" to indicate that Avraham never gives up on her and that, even after his second marriage, she retains her status as wife in every respect.

Avraham's very passivity in this episode can be seen as a form of appeasement to his beloved wife. He too must have interpreted events as Sarah had, assuming that Hashem had not intended for them to bear a child together. He feels badly for his wife, but he is in no way ambivalent about moving on in order that Hashem's promise be fulfilled. 10 years after entering the Land of Canaan, he marries Hagar. Sarah may have initiated this process, but Avraham agrees in full. That Chazal would understand this as a source for all Jewish men to remarry after 10 fruitless years, as indicated in the (now resolved) third question, is in fact entirely fitting.

Once Hagar becomes pregnant, Sarah her mistress becomes diminished in her eyes. She no longer wants to serve as her maid, assuming that Hashem now has better things in store for her.

When Sarah tells Avraham that her "wrong is upon him" (v. 5), she is not accusing him of doing her any harm (given his loving treatment, why would she?). She is asking him, as Hagar's husband, to rebuke his new wife accordingly since she - now a wife of equal footing - no longer can. "Hashem will judge between me and you," just as she did well for him by providing a wife, she expects that he will do well for her by restoring her rightful station.

Avraham agrees with Sarah's overall purpose, but disagrees with her appraisal of the situation. Had he prevented Hagar from serving Sarah, her request would be in order. But "here is your maid in your hand" (v. 6), here Sarah has never ceased being mistress of the house and, as such, she is completely justified in rebuking Hagar herself. Whatever she does, Avraham expresses his unqualified support. This clarifies our fourth question.

Ramban claims that Sarah sins in afflicting Hagar so brutally that the maid is forced to escape, and that Avraham sins in allowing his wife to do so. This is not so. Sarah Imeinu, ever righteous and motivated leshem Shamayim, is trying to straighten that which had become crooked. Hagar had grown arrogant, and Sarah increases her maidenly workload in extremis quite literally to put her in her place. There will be neither arrogance nor any other deplorable midos in Avraham Avinu's home, thank you.

Hagar escapes because, in her presently exalted state of mind, she cannot take the mussar. Chazal teach that ga'ava-haughtiness, is one of the fundamental deterrents to Yiras Shamayim. And yet Hagar, in the most haughty of moods - the runaway who had just thrown a temper tantrum over sorting socks - is somehow seen worthy of speaking with an angel.

In fact, the voice Hagar hears is not a product of her imagination - as in the case of prophets of higher spiritual stature - nor of temporary insanity. This is an unexceptional, human-sounding voice that reaches her mortal ears simply because Hashem wills it into existence, as He does all His miracles. The same kind of banal voice reaches Shmuel at the very beginning of his prophecy.

When Hagar looks ahead, she sees a rather ordinary physical presence before her - this is why she shows no fear during the length of their exchange. The angel's goal is to send her back to the home of the spiritual giants where she can play her own comparatively small part in the Divine redemptive drama. The angel exists purely because of Avraham's merit, and not because Hagar is worthy of prophecy herself.

The angel's words are initially brief, in case Hagar decides at any interval to heed his argument and return home. She doesn't, so he is forced to persist. Each time the verse begins, "And the angel of Hashem spoke" (v. 9-11), because each time theoretically should have been the last time. The content of the angel's speech is meant to be persuasive, not informative. Ideally she would have been convinced the first time around. But this is Hagar, and she is not yet at the spiritual level of her patrons. (By now, the fifth and sixth questions have been addressed.)

It takes her awhile, but Hagar begins to realize that this is no ordinary man standing there with her by that fountain in the desert. She is unimpressed by his appearance (unlike Manoach and his wife, who actually witness the angel ascending on a flame into the Heavens). But then again, how does he always seem to know what's on her mind?

When the angel originally asks her, "where did you come from and where are you going" (v. 8), he's neither looking for an answer nor is he striking up conversation. He's trying to continue the mussar vort begun by Sarah Imeinu. Doesn't it occur to you, he asks, that you're leaving the house of the perfect, generous, loving Avraham and fleeing into a cold, desolate wilderness? Can you find anything remotely comparable out here in this hostile place? Humble yourself, Hagar! Remember your own father thought it would be better for you to be a servant in the house of pure souls than a ruler of villains.

She begins to hear. Avraham is perfect, she admits, but it's from "my mistress Sarai" (v. 8) that she flees. Consciously or not, she has made a breakthrough. No longer a peer, Sarah Imeinu has re-emerged in Hagar's mind as her "mistress." "Go back to your mistress and submit yourself to her hands" (v. 9), the angel tells her. Now that she acknowledges the pernicious core of her arrogance, she should go back to where she'll learn the trait of humility best - under Sarah's righteous guidance.

But Hagar just stands there. In her mind she rejects the angel's argument, assuming that only pettiness and jealousy motivated her mistress. She imagines a life of so much hardship that she may never carry a pregnancy to term - and wouldn't that just perfectly suit her rival for Avraham's affections. The angel therefore responds by assuring her, "I will greatly increase your seed" (v. 10). Don't worry about this pregnancy, he says, and in the end you will beget vast nations.

Hagar remains unconverted. That's all quite nice about the future but, she worries to herself, what will be with this child? (One wonders at this point whether the angel received overtime for this particular job.) She still doesn't realize, of course, that he is reading her mind.

"Behold, you are expecting, and you will bear a son, and you shall call his name Yishmael because Hashem has heard your affliction" (v. 11). All will work out for the best: you will bear this child and, although you will continue to suffer in the short run, your suffering too will end. Hashem will hear your affliction and will terminate it. Naturally it is Avraham who later names the boy, but he does so only because Hagar recounts her experience to him in full. With this account of the angel's words, our seventh, eighth, and ninth questions have been resolved.

Many commentaries explain the angel's declaration that Yishmael will be a "wild man, his hand will be against every man, and every man's hand will be against him, and he shall dwell in the presence of his brothers" (v. 12) in the negative, literal sense. Most folks would be upset to hear such talk about their own children.

When we last left our narrative, Hagar was still not persuaded. The angel now returns to his original line of reasoning. He criticizes Hagar for leaving Avraham's holy environs in favor of a nomadic existence. If she continues on her way, she'll give birth in the wilderness, and her son will indeed grow up an uncivilized "wild man." The angel is not predicting, he's asking her rhetorically: this is what you want?

She remains quiet, so he answers his rhetorical question for her. Of course this isn't what you want! You'd prefer a son who grows up cultivated and sociable, freely interacting with everyone - "his hand will be with every man, and every man's hand will be with him." And he will "dwell in the presence of his brothers" eventually, with the rest of the children of Ketura (who we know as Hagar). Hagar! - the angel all but admonishes her as he masterfully concludes his case - go back to Avraham's home, and from such a fine son you will shepp nothing but nachas!

And that moves her. You can tell a mother that she will grow as a person, you can tell her she will beget mighty nations, you can guarantee a healthy delivery of her baby, you can even promise an end to all of her suffering. But tell a mother that her son will grow up to bring prestige to the family - and she'll go to the end of the world for you. Or at least, if she's Hagar, she'll finally go home.

Hagar never responds directly to the angel's arguments. But she does make a significant statement on the spot about her experience, and she does immediately go home, which is precisely what he's been asking for all along.

After what has been arguably one of the most mundane - maddening even - exchanges between a Divine entity and a human being in all of Scripture, Hagar is suddenly chilled to the bone with an epiphany. "And she called the name of Hashem who spoke with her, 'Ata Ke-l ro'i,' because she said" - with apparent rapture and spontaneity - "'Have I also looked after Him who sees me!'" (v. 13).

Oh? Those seem fairly pretentious words, especially given that she has experienced no prophetic reverie at all, and seems to have been in contact with a mere messenger and not the Almighty Himself.

In truth, Abrabanel explains, any Divine communication - from the transcendent prophesies of Moshe Rabeinu to the remarkably bland voice that speaks to Hagar - ultimately comes from Hashem through His own will. Angels often even speak of Hashem in the first person. Hagar, then, is not inaccurate in her perception of having spoken directly with the Ribono Shel Olam.

Hagar reacts accordingly, amazed by her own transparency, her every thought and inkling is so instantly accessible to the One who "sees" right through her - "Ata Ke-l ro'i." It dawns on her: "Have I also looked," ever, into any matter of the heart, no matter how remote, without the true Bochen Klayos having concurrently seen and understood every nuance as well? Such would not have been a revelation for Yirei Shamayim of Avraham and Sarah's stature, but Hagar is still growing spiritually and she is unexpectedly awe-struck.

What impresses her perhaps more than anything is that the Almighty actually deigns to speak with little, inconsequential Hagar, to "see" her in all of her maidenly insignificance, a mere servant who had the hubris to exalt herself over her truly sublime mistress. And yet she too now "sees," with all the grandeur that the entire Jewish people would eventually "see the voices" at Har Sinai (Shmos 20:15). Like Hagar, they all had the capacity to see, from the greatest of prophets to, indeed, the lowliest of maidservants. (With this, we have completed addressing all ten questions.)

Of course all of Klal Yisrael has the capacity to see miracles. But we identify all too often with the self-deluded arrogance of Hagar, projecting our own imputed greatness over that of our spiritual superiors - Gedolei Yisrael, our rebbes, our teachers - willfully blinding ourselves to the radiance of Hashem's manifest dominion.

We simultaneously negate the towering significance of our daily lives. We no less than commune with angels regularly. They see right through us - and yet we tend to see right past them. At least Hagar gets the message in the end. She goes home where she too will learn to achieve spiritual transcendence. She recognizes and accepts that which she presently cannot understand. Do we?