Did Avraham listen to his wife?

A common piece of marital advice men receive is, “Happy wife, happy life.” God seems to concur. When Avraham hesitates to comply with his wife Sarah’s request to banish her maidservant, Hagar, and her son, Yishmael, God commands Avraham to heed his wife’s voice.

The story reads like a soap opera. Unable to conceive, Sarah instructs Avraham to engage in an ancient version of surrogacy by consorting with her maidservant, hoping to have a child through her. Yet after Sarah gives birth to her own son, Yitzchak, she seeks to have Hagar and Yishmael driven out after witnessing the lad engaging in what the Torah describes as “mocking” behavior. The Midrash Bereshit Rabbah interprets this vague term as indicating that Yishmael was engaged in idolatrous behavior.

Defenders of Sarah cite this midrash as evidence that her request for banishment was justified: she was protecting her biological son from the idolatrous influence of his older half-brother. Critics of Sarah, however, point to her stated rationale for requesting their expulsion: she did not want the son of her maidservant to share the family inheritance with Yitzchak. This interpretation reduces the story to a family dispute over money.

A more charitable reading of Sarah’s actions might suggest that Yishmael’s “mocking” behavior—whether understood as idolatry or some other form of misconduct—posed a threat to Yitzchak’s spiritual inheritance. The consequences could have extended beyond Yitzchak himself, potentially threatening the survival of Avraham and Sarah’s nascent monotheistic movement before it had a chance to take root.

Marsha Pravder Mirkin, a clinical psychologist and resident scholar at Brandeis University’s Women’s Studies Research Center, offers a different perspective on this incident. In her work Beginning Anew, she argues that although Sarah requested that Hagar and Yishmael be driven out, she did not necessarily intend for her words to be taken literally. Mirkin notes that God commanded Avraham shema b’kola—to listen to his wife’s voice—not explicitly to carry out her request by expelling the mother and son.

Although Mirkin’s interpretation parses the text in a way that risks taking God’s words out of context, she nevertheless shines a light on a recurring problem in the stories of our people’s first families. To put it bluntly, our patriarchs and matriarchs often struggled to communicate effectively with one another.

According to Mirkin’s reading, the expulsion of Hagar and Yishmael can be understood as the world’s first Mars-and-Venus moment. In his popular book Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus, Dr. John Gray suggests that men tend to go into “Mr. Fix-It” mode, seeking to solve problems, while women often prefer to talk through their concerns and share their feelings as a way of relieving stress.

Mirkin argues that God’s command to “listen to her voice” was an attempt to encourage Avraham to empathize with his wife, who feared that her biological son’s spiritual and financial future was threatened by his half-brother. Rather than instructing Avraham to take action and expel Hagar and Yishmael, God was encouraging him to listen to Sarah’s concerns. Mirkin suggests that Avraham should have reassured Sarah that, despite Yishmael’s youthful indiscretions, both children would be blessed.

Even if we believe that Mirkin’s interpretation goes beyond the plain meaning of the text, her reading reminds us of the importance of what we today call mindfulness: listening, processing what we hear, and seeking to understand before responding.

Simply acknowledging another person’s emotions is one of the most powerful tools in the arsenal of relationship management. This skill is so important that God models it for us. Before Leah bears her first child, we are told that God saw that she was unloved. Yet the text does not explicitly state that her husband, Yaakov, did not love her; rather, it tells us that he loved his other wife, Rachel—Leah’s younger sister—more.

The biblical commentator Radak explains that the Torah describes Leah as unloved to express empathy for her plight. Being forced to play second fiddle to her husband’s other wife, who was also her younger sister, made Leah feel unloved. So grateful is Leah for God’s empathy that she names her son Reuven, explaining his name with the words, “God has seen my affliction.” Although Leah felt invisible to her husband, being seen by God lifted her spirits.

One of the most successful political campaign lines in modern American history came from Bill Clinton during his successful 1992 presidential campaign: “I feel your pain.” Regardless of how one feels about the former president or the sincerity of his words, the statement helped persuade many Americans that he understood them and recognized the economic hardships they were enduring.

When we think of great communicators, we tend to think of great orators. Yet even a gifted speaker can fall flat if that person does not understand the people being addressed. If you want to change someone’s mind, do not begin by telling them they are wrong; doing so may only cause them to dig in their heels. Instead, build rapport by listening and trying to see things from their point of view.

Demonstrating that you respect another person enough to genuinely hear them and understand where they are coming from—even when you disagree—opens the door to constructive dialogue. It is on that foundation of mutual respect and understanding that healthy relationships are built.

Perhaps the lesson of Sarah and Avraham’s story is that listening involves more than simply hearing words. It means recognizing the fears, hopes, and emotions behind them. Sometimes, before trying to solve a problem, we first need to make sure the other person feels heard and understood.