Parashat Lekh Lekha sees Avraham and his nephew Lot go their separate ways, but the background for this separation is somewhat unclear. On the one hand, the verse states: “The land could not support them staying together; for their possessions were so great,” implying that the problem was that their great wealth created a shortage of resources, so there was not enough for both groups. On the other hand, the verse continues: “and they could not remain together,” which seems to indicate that there were more basic issues involved.
The very next verse states: “And there was quarreling between the herdsmen of Abram’s cattle and those of Lot’s cattle,” which makes it sound as though the problem that existed was that the herdsmen did not get along. But when Avraham turns to Lot and suggests that they separate, he says: “Let there be no strife between you and me, between my herdsmen and yours, for we are kinsmen.” This seems to indicate that the problem was not limited to the herdsmen, but that the relationship between Avraham and Lot also was problematic.
The question that must be asked, however, is whether this was the only option. Could their dispute have been settled in some other way? Were all avenues of reconciliation considered before this separation was suggested? Or, perhaps, there is no need to make such investigations, since separation is a perfectly reasonable option?
A similar question comes up in partnership law. Should the law encourage partnerships, or, perhaps, might it provide incentives for dissolution of partnerships, favoring separate businesses?
In the area of law, there is a clear preference. Each partner has a fundamental right allowing him to dissolve the partnership, should he choose to do so. The law assumes that no one can be obligated to remain associated with a partner who he cannot abide. Every person has a right to economic independence and autonomous activity.
It should be obvious that this pragmatic approach has both personal and social implications.
The midrash critiques the separation proposed by Avraham in a number of different ways:
“From the beginning, when Lot was with Avraham, he lusted after harlotry,
And when Avraham suggested “Let there be no strife between you and me… Let us separate,”
Immediately, “Lot lifted his eyes up…”
And the expression “to lift one’s eye’s” always refers to a lust for harlotry, as we find: “His lord's wife lifted up her eyes unto Joseph, saying, ‘Lie with me’.”
(Aggadat Bereishit, Buber, 25).
The midrash is suggesting that Lot was never a paradigm of virtue, always lusting after sexual pleasure (the more well-known midrash, brought by Rashi, points to Lot’s moral failing by means of an example from the realm of theft). What gave Lot permission to act on his desires was the free-pass given to him by Avraham’s suggestion that they separate. Lot’s instinctive reaction is to search for a place where his desires could be fulfilled. The implication is that without Avraham’s suggestion that they go their separate ways and part as friends, it is likely that he would never have had the opportunity to fulfill his desires. Lot’s desire to live a life of debauchery is revealed at the moment when Avraham makes the suggestion to separate, which may help dispel some of the lack of clarity about their dispute. It turns out that throughout their time together, Lot was chafing under Avraham’s ethical rules and values.
The correct thing to do in a business partnership may not apply to family ties. It would appear that the midrash is critiquing Avraham for abandoning his parental role vis-à-vis his nephew. The midrash suggests that Avraham is directly responsible for Lot’s decision to reject a moral, ethical lifestyle.
It is possible, however, to read the midrash differently, and to conclude that Avraham cannot be held responsible for Lot’s choices. Someone who truly desires to sin will find opportunities to do so. The proof of this is that Avraham’s innocent suggestion that they each go their own, separate ways is immediately grasped by Lot as an escape route and an opportunity to sin. Must Avraham consider every possible outcome of his suggestion? Do we not believe in the rule of the rabbinic sages: “there is no agency for transgression”? One way or another, Lot would have found a way to fulfill his desires.
In one of his responsa, the Hatam Sofer forbids a nursing mother from marrying a certain person, based on a ruling in the Talmud that prohibits marriage in such a case. Among the mitigating factors that were presented in an attempt to receive a lenient ruling, involved the fact that the groom was supporting his father, and there was concern that were they not permitted to marry he would abandon his father to marry her in another locale. The Hatam Sofer refused to permit the marriage, writing: “Even if they do what they do, it is not our responsibility. A thousand such cases can happen, but we cannot allow even a single rabbinic edict to be annulled.” (Even HaEzer Vol. III).
Similar approaches are found in the Talmud itself. One example is the rabbinic dictum: “Feed it to the wicked man and let him die,” which suggests that we need not make a great effort to keep a sinner from sinning. If someone chooses to sin, it is their problem, and they are the ones who will suffer the consequences. This approach frees a farmer from marking his young trees as orlah (it is forbidden to consume the fruit of trees in their first three years of growth), even though such demarcation would keep thieves from stealing the forbidden fruit. This raises the difficult and disturbing question of communal responsibility in general, and responsibility towards criminals specifically.
Following the incident of incestuous relations between Lot and his daughters, the midrash relates:
“Once Avraham saw what happened, he said: What relationship do I want with such as these?
Immediately, ‘Abraham journeyed from there’ (Bereishit 20:1).
Which is why it says: ‘Nor will I go with pretenders’ (Tehillim 26:4).”
This midrash suggests that there is another perspective to removing the burden of responsibility that must be considered. Sometimes trying to engage and take responsibility in a shared relationship may be helpful in restraining the lust of the sinner, but it may come at a cost to the side that is trying to help and inspire.
Educators recognize this quandary. Must we embrace the troubled student, or must we shun him for fear of how he will influence his peers? Similar questions impact on choices that families make when deciding where to live, or when religious communities in Israel must decide the extent to which they will enter the public area where their values are not shared.
Avraham’s actions in this story offer some level of legitimacy for an attitude of separation, as is the case with the story of Sarah who demands: “Cast out that slave-woman and her son” (Bereishit 21:10). Still, we cannot conclude that this is the only way. According to the midrash, Yaakov will try a similar tack when he hides his daughter Dinah in order to keep his brother, Esav, from discovering her and marrying her. The midrash critiques this decision, arguing that by doing so Yaakov prevented his brother from having an opportunity to repent.
Ultimately, the decision is a difficult one, and neither choice can be construed as being the correct one. Both decisions will come at a price.
