Shall We Draw Back, My Brother, My Sister, or Cross Over?

This sermon for the parashah Vayeira is inspired by a beautiful Shabbat meditation from Mishkan T'filah:

This is an hour of change.
Within it we stand uncertain on the border of light.
Shall we draw back or cross over?
Where shall our hearts turn?
Shall we draw back, my brother, my sister,
or cross over?
This is the hour of change, and within it,
we stand quietly
on the border of light.
What lies before us?
Shall we draw back, my brother, my sister,
or cross over?

Read the sermon below the break.

Shall We Draw Back, My Brother, My Sister, or Cross Over?

This is an hour of change.
Within it we stand uncertain on the border of light.
Shall we draw back or cross over?
Where shall our hearts turn?
Shall we draw back, my brother, my sister,
or cross over?
This is the hour of change, and within it,
we stand quietly
on the border of light.
What lies before us?
Shall we draw back, my brother, my sister,
or cross over?[1]

What would it mean for us to heed this Shabbat meditation, to cross over the border of light into the mystery that lies beyond?

What would it mean for us to see that we stand in a moment of change and to choose to step forward rather than to linger at the threshold?

To take such a step requires courage. Change occurs around us all the time, yet all the time we draw back rather than cross over. We are comfortable with the way things are, and even when we can see great opportunities on the horizon, we hesitate to pursue them. Taking a step into the unknown is scary, especially if we have to face it alone.

It is for this reason that we so admire our father Abraham, who models for us what it means to step forward. It is for this reason that we can identify with his nephew Lot, who feels the painful consequences of lingering on the threshold of change. This week’s Torah portion, Vayeira, shows us the importance of taking the step and reminds us how difficult it can be.

As our parashah opens in Genesis chapter 18, we see Abraham sitting at the entrance of his tent. A moment later, unexpected guests arrive, and Abraham leaps up to greet them. After they have rested and eaten, Abraham escorts them on their way. And as the visitors head down the hill to the Plain beneath,[2] the Eternal speaks to Abraham: “The outrage of Sodom and Gomorrah is so great, and their sin so grave! I will go down to see whether they have acted altogether according to the outcry that has reached me....”[3] The message is clear: God intends to destroy these cities, one of which is Lot’s new home, on account of their wickedness. And after the Eternal speaks with Abraham, we read, וְאַבְרָהָם עוֹדֶנּוּ עֹמֵד לִפְנֵי יי “Abraham remained standing before the Eternal.”[4] God speaks and waits for a response.

Here is the hour of change. Abraham knows that God’s words portend drastic upheaval in the near future.

Shall he draw back or cross over? Where shall his heart turn?

The Torah answers us immediately: וַיִּגַּשׁ אַבְרָהָם, “Abraham stepped forward.”[5]

He challenges God to scour the cities for even a few righteous people and to spare Sodom and Gomorrah on their account. “Shall not the Judge of all the earth deal justly?”[6]

This boldness could not have come easily to Abraham, the man who obeyed the command לֶךְ-לְךָ go forth[7] from your homeland … without a word. The man who will yet obey the command, “Take your son, your only one, whom you love, Isaac”[8] to offer him as a sacrifice … without a word.

Abraham, our tradition’s model of faith, who trusts in the steady word of God, sees this hour of change. And this time, he steps forward.

This is not a physical stepping forward, for we know that “Abraham remained standing before the Eternal.” How else, then, can one “step forward?” Rashi, the 11th-century biblical interpreter par excellence, shows us how הָגָשָה, stepping forward, is seen in the Hebrew Bible. One can step forward into war, as Joab against the Arameans;[9] one can step forward to placate, as Judah toward his brother Joseph;[10] and one can step forward into prayer, as the prophet Elijah at the altar.[11]  Rashi teaches, “And for all [three of] these Abraham stepped forward: to speak harshly, to placate, and to pray.”[12]

In other words, Abraham knew he had to share difficult words with God, though he sought to speak as calmly as possible. And the entire exchange was one of prayer.

The 12th-century philosopher and Bible scholar, David Kimchi, known as Radak, summarizes succinctly: Abraham stepped forward into justice.

God’s words demanded a response, and Abraham rose to the challenge.

Our tradition teaches us through this example of Abraham how we are to step forward into justice when the time is right. But our tradition also shows us through the example of Abraham’s nephew, Lot, that stepping forward into justice is never easy.

At the beginning Genesis chapter 19, the parashah’s very next chapter, we see that Lot sits at the gate of Sodom, much like Abraham was sitting at the entrance of his tent. Lot sees visitors approaching, and like Abraham, he rises to greet them. He brings them into his house and shelters them from the violence of his neighbors. In exchange, these heavenly guests warn Lot, “Sons-in-law, your sons and daughters, or anyone else that you have in the city— bring them out of the place. For we are about to destroy this place.”[13]

Truly, the hour of change is at hand.

The light of dawn heralds Sodom’s last day, and Lot’s guests urge him, “Up, take your wife and your two remaining daughters, lest you be swept away because of the iniquity of the city.”[14]

This time, danger is even more immanent than when God told Abraham God’s plan to destroy the cities. And yet, what does Lot do? וַיִּתְמַהְמָהּ, he tarries.

Why does Lot linger when clearly his own life and the lives of others depend on his stepping forward?

Rashi teaches that Lot delays כדי להציל את מְמֹנוֹ, in order to save his wealth. Lot’s life was sustained by the riches he gained while traveling with his Uncle Abraham, and he takes extra time— perhaps time that he really doesn’t have— to try to preserve those possessions.

The 12th-century Spanish philosopher Abraham Ibn Ezra teaches[15] that Lot “was frightened and did not have the strength to flee.” Lot lingered, paralyzed by fear, unable to force himself to take a single step.

And the 13th-century scholar, Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, also known as Nahmanides, teaches[16] that Lot did not have the emotional fortitude to make it out of Sodom. He felt so overwhelmed that he was unable to move an inch.

In short, Lot drew back. Whether he was worried about his money, paralyzed by fear, or stuck in emotional shock, Lot was unable to take the bold step forward that his Uncle Abraham had risked on his behalf only a day before.

And now we look at ourselves and ask: When are we more like Abraham, and when are we more like Lot?

As Lot, we know the fear of insecurity. We dread the possibility of losing our means of support, and we cannot imagine what life would be like if we had to abandon our belongings.

As Lot, we also know the sting of fear. We prefer the familiar discomfort of an imperfect situation to the frightening prospect of exchanging it for something unknown.

And as Lot, we know the weight of emotional stress. We often conclude that a situation is already so bad, we couldn’t make it better even if we tried.

Truly, Lot is a sympathetic figure. But Abraham’s ideal is not out of reach.

Surely each of us has taken a risk at a certain point at an hour of change, stepping forward to see the light even when the shadows seem safer. Whether moving to a new place or making a change within the home; whether protesting discrimination or correcting an insensitive joke; whether making peace with a long-time enemy or apologizing to a friend … each of us has had moments of Abrahamic insight in which we have stepped forward into the light of change.

At times we are like Lot. At times we are like Abraham.         

But in these moments of change, in these calls to justice and transitions of life, we do have yet a third option. We can choose to follow the lead of the angelic visitors who rouse Lot from his torpor.

Lot would have been killed in the rain of fire and brimstone had it not been for one of these messengers who “seized his hand and the hands of his wife and his two daughters— in the Eternal’s mercy on him— and brought him out and left him outside the city.”[17]

By stretching out his hand in a time of need, Lot’s guest saved him from destruction.

And we, too, can be these helping agents, these enablers of transition in the lives of those whom we love and care about. We can offer our hands to those who need our help, pulling them out of their attachment or fear or shock and helping them to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

For each of us, the hour of change will look different. And when it comes, we may be faced with Lot’s indecision, the angel’s ability to help another, or Abraham’s courage to take the step forward.

We pray that if we, like Lot, hesitate too long, a helper will emerge to bring us into the light.

We pray that if we, like the visiting angel, see another person in need of our assistance, we will reach out our hand.

And we pray that if we, like Abraham, feel the call to justice, we will have the strength to step forward and to assert the kind of change we wish to see in the world.

This is an hour of change.
Within it we stand uncertain on the border of light.
Shall we draw back or cross over?
Where shall our hearts turn?
Shall we draw back, my brother, my sister,
or cross over?
This is the hour of change, and within it,
we stand quietly
on the border of light.
What lies before us?
Shall we draw back, my brother, my sister,
or cross over?

[1] Mishkan T’filah 149.
[2] Cf. Genesis 19:28.
[3] Gen. 18:20-21.
[4] Gen. 18:22.
[5] Gen. 18:23.
[6] Gen. 18:25.
[7] Gen. 12:1.
[8] Gen. 22:2.
[9] II Samuel 10:13
[10] Gen. 44:18
[11] I Kings 18:36
[12] Cf. Gen. Rabbah 49:8.
[13] Gen. 19:12-13.
[14] Gen. 19:15.
[15] via Ramban’s comment at Gen. 19:16: אמר רבי אברהם כי ויחזיקו יבאר שפחד ואין בו כח לברוח, Rabbi Abraham [ibn Ezra)] says that so they grasped (וַיַּחֲזִיקוּ) implies that [Lot] was frightened and did not have the strength to flee.  [I.e., he needed physical support.]  
[16] והנכון שהוא כמו ותחזק מצרים על העם למהר לשלחם מן הארץ (שמות יב לג), אף כאן היו מושכים בהם בחזקה למהר לשלחם, But the soundest interpretation is that the word (וַיַּחֲזִיקוּ) is similar to וַתֶּחֱזַק in Egypt pressed the people, to hasten to send them out of the land (Ex. 12:33).  Here, too, they pulled [Lot and his family] away forcefully, to hasten to send them away.  [I.e., he needed emotional encouragement.]
[17] Gen. 19:16.