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Parashat Lech L’cha Early in the story of Abraham—in fact, as soon as he and his family move to Canaan—he does something that is deeply associated with him, indeed with all of the patriarchs, indeed with the archetype of the religious personality: He “calls out in the name of the Lord.” (See Genesis 12:8) Now, before we assume we know what this means, let’s ask ourselves: What might it mean? For it may not be obvious, and in fact, several very distinct understandings of this phrase have arisen over the years. One explanation is that this phrase, “likroh b’shem adonai,” means “to call out to God,” in other words, to pray to God. This makes some sense. Two of the three times that Abraham “calls out in the Name of God” he’s at an altar; once, he’s planting a tamarisk tree—probably a sacred site. Isaac, too, builds an altar and then “calls on the Name of God”; so it makes sense that it might mean, “he prayed.” And this is the explanation given by Rashi. But that’s not the only explanation offered by Jewish Bible commentators. Ibn Ezra, a medieval Spanish commentator, suggests that when the text says that Abraham called upon the name of the Lord, it means that, in speaking with others, he invoked God’s Name, with the intent of calling on other people to worship God. In other words, he didn’t call on God himself; he called on other people to worship God: he was, if you will, a missionary. There’s certainly support for this. When Abraham and Sarah are described as leaving Haran for Canaan, they take with them, “v’et ha-hefesh asher asu v’haran,”—“the souls that they had acquired in Haran,” which the rabbis interpret to mean, the people that they’d convinced to follow their ways, the people whom they’d converted to their religious beliefs. Finally, to “call out” in the Name of the Lord might mean to “proclaim” in the Name of the Lord, to preach to others in society how they should live and what they should do, in the name of the Lord—in other words, with the authority of God behind one, as if to say, “This is God’s will.” Now, this sounds fine. It sounds reasonable. All three of these explanations might be reasonable—to describe the behavior of someone living more than three thousand years ago. But could we imagine using this phrase today, in 2006, no matter how we interpret it, without a certain amount of hesitation, of discomfort? It’s hard to appreciate—in fact, it’s easy to be suspicious of—someone who “calls out in the Name of the Lord” in our day and age. “To call out in the Name of the Lord” in the sense of offering a prayer, reminds us of Charlton Heston raising his staff and watching the waters of the Red Sea part. It’s a magical, pre-modern understanding of the notion of calling on the Name of the Lord to rescue one’s friends and punish one’s enemies. Not very appealing. What about “calling out in the Name of God” in the sense of missionizing—trying to convince others to adopt one’s way of life? Judaism has frowned on proselytizing for many years. We welcome converts to Judaism, but we try not to suggest that Judaism is the only way of life to pursue, the only way to come close to God, the only way to be a good person. We don’t do that. And, needless to say, we don’t feel comfortable being evangelized. We don’t like it when others try to get us to adopt their faith. What about “calling out in the name of the Lord” in the sense of preaching what God wants and what he doesn’t? To many of us, I’m sure, this evokes the judgmental, sanctimonious preacher, telling you what’s good for you—which only raises questions whether, deep down inside, he believes it himself. Even if it weren’t an election year in which we’ve seen certain public policy positions promoted by particular religious groups, even if we didn’t just learn of an explosive accusation against a leader of a major evangelical organization, we would—I hope—be somewhat skeptical of those who claim to know what God likes, or, more precisely, what he doesn’t like, and who spend so much of their time condemning people in the name of the Lord. Anyone who ever read The Scarlet Letter in high school could not but take a dim view of preachers, like the Reverend Dimmesdale in that story, who would do better to preach to themselves than to others. Is there then nothing left of the phrase, “to call upon the Name of the Lord?” Must we discard it as yet another outdated vestige of an earlier stage in humanity’s development, which we can no longer made use of, which indeed we can no longer tolerate? I hope not. I think that even in the enlightened, post-modern, and post-theistic age that we live in, there’s still much value in the notion of “calling upon the Name of the Lord.” What positive value might we derive from the concept of “calling upon the Name of the Lord” today? First, the value of humility. To “call on the name of the Lord” in the sense of praying to God is a sign of humility—or it can be. A sign that one calls on God, the ideal, rather than on oneself, the real. God represents the epitome of virtue. We, on the other hand, are capable of sin as well as good deeds. Have we outlived the age of humility? I hope not. I hope that there will always be room for this most religious of values, even in the most post-modern of worlds. Second, the idea that we may not be totally objective. We are human beings, with our own biases. To call on the Name of the Lord is to realize that the source of justice, of fairness, may be outside of ourselves. It’s actually yet another expression of humility. Finally, to call on the name of the Lord could—even today—refer to the expression of awe and wonder and appreciation in the face of creation. Have we outlived the age of prayers of appreciation, of awe, of gratitude? I hope not! And so, even though “calling on the Name of the Lord” has become an almost embarrassing concept, particularly during these last few days, I hope that we’ll try to reclaim it for ourselves. I hope that we’ll strive to call on the Name of the Lord, by:
Shabbat Shalom! |
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