Parashat Lech Lecha – A Little Distance

Parashat Lech Lecha

A Little Distance

One of the great frustrations of human relationships is that the people closest to us can get on our nerves the most. We meet a stranger and express great curiosity, patience, and enthusiasm. Yet with the people we have known longest, the smallest comment can irritate us, a minor disagreement can send us straight back into an old argument, and the patience we extend so freely to others seems to run out just when we need it most.

This paradox appears in our parashah when Abraham and Lot’s herdsmen get caught in conflict over the land. Abraham turns to his nephew and says:

אַל נָא תְהִי מְרִיבָה בֵּינִי וּבֵינֶךָ וּבֵין רֹעַי וּבֵין רֹעֶיךָ כִּי אֲנָשִׁים אַחִים אֲנָחְנוּ

“Let there be no strife between you and me, between my herdsmen and your herdsmen, for we are brothers.” (Genesis 13:8)

There is a strange logic to this statement. If we are such close relatives, shouldn’t we be able to sort this out?

The Malbim draws out the force of Abraham’s words. He imagines Abraham pointing to the Canaanites and Perizzites, who live alongside one another peacefully:

ראה הנה שני אומות מפורדות כנעני ופרזי יושב בארץ בשלום ובשלוה ולא יקנאו זא”ז, ואיך תהיה מריבה ביני ובינך שאנחנו אחים

“Look, two separate peoples, the Canaanites and Perizzites, live in the land peacefully and in tranquility, without envying one another. How, then, can there be strife between you and me, when we are brothers?” (Malbim on Genesis 13:8)

The Malbim highlights a troubling irony. Abraham and Lot are family, yet their desire to remain together creates the conditions for strife. Had they not been related, he explains, the land would have been wide enough for each to find room. Their closeness creates an expectation of staying together, even when their shared circumstances make that difficult.

Abraham’s next step is surprising. He insists on distance:

הִפָּרֶד נָא מֵעָלָי אִם־הַשְּׂמֹאל וְאֵימִנָה וְאִם־הַיָּמִין וְאַשְׂמְאִילָה

“Please separate from me. If you go left, I will go right; if you go right, I will go left.” (Genesis 13:9)

Abraham gives Lot the first choice of direction and agrees to go the other way. At first glance, this might look like retreat or an unjustified concession. Why should Abraham be the one to give ground? His priority, however, is clear: to end the strife between them.

The Hebrew wording offers another insight into the conflict. The Torah describes it as a מְרִיבָה (merivah). The Malbim points out that:

יש הבדל בין ריב ובין מריבה, שמריבה מציין הענין הגורם את הריב

“There is a difference between riv and merivah: merivah refers to the circumstances that cause the quarrel.” (Malbim on Genesis 13:8)

The Malbim’s distinction shifts our attention from the quarrel itself to the circumstances that generate it. The question becomes not only why Abraham and Lot are fighting, but what about their situation keeps producing conflict.

This problem is familiar in business partnerships. Two people may share a vision and have complementary talents, yet find that working together repeatedly brings them into conflict. They disagree over decisions or compete for control. Instead of trying to change one another, they might divide responsibilities, redefine roles, or even end the partnership.

Negotiation theory offers a useful framework for thinking about this decision. In Getting to Yes: Negotiating Agreement Without Giving In, Roger Fisher, William Ury, and Bruce Patton introduce the concept of a Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement (BATNA). Knowing what you will do if negotiations fail helps you recognize when an agreement is worth pursuing and when a different arrangement may be preferable.

Abraham’s decision suggests a similar willingness to consider an alternative to preserving the existing relationship as it stands.

There is a lesson here for relationships of all kinds. We sometimes confuse our responsibility to another person with an obligation to maintain the same degree of closeness or shared responsibility indefinitely. We may believe that being a good sibling means continuing to run a business together, that being a good child means accepting every demand from a parent, or that being a good friend means tolerating a pattern of interaction that repeatedly causes harm. When our efforts to improve a relationship keep bringing us back to the same conflict, it may be time to reconsider how we relate to one another.

The Torah, however, does not leave us with an argument for simply walking away. The next time we encounter Abraham and Lot, Lot has been captured in a war between rival kings. Abraham hears what has happened and mobilizes his men to rescue him:

וַיִּשְׁמַע אַבְרָם כִּי נִשְׁבָּה אָחִיו וַיָּרֶק אֶת־חֲנִיכָיו יְלִידֵי בֵיתוֹ שְׁמֹנָה עָשָׂר וּשְׁלֹשׁ מֵאוֹת וַיִּרְדֹּף עַד־דָּן

“When Abram heard that his kinsman had been taken captive, he mustered his retainers, those born in his household, 318 men, and pursued as far as Dan.” (Genesis 14:14)

The Hebrew word אָחִיו, meaning his brother or kinsman, recalls Abraham’s earlier appeal, כִּי אֲנָשִׁים אַחִים אֲנָחְנוּ, “for we are brothers.” Abraham has put distance between himself and Lot, but he has not abandoned the bond that connects them.

The account concludes:

וַיָּשֶׁב אֵת כָּל־הָרְכֻשׁ וְגַם אֶת־לוֹט אָחִיו וּרְכֻשׁוֹ הֵשִׁיב וְגַם אֶת־הַנָּשִׁים וְאֶת־הָעָם

“He brought back all the possessions; he also brought back his kinsman Lot and his possessions, as well as the women and the people.” (Genesis 14:16)

Making space does not mean letting go of responsibility for one another. Abraham is no longer willing to share the same land with Lot, but when Lot is in danger, he puts himself at risk to rescue him and recover what was taken.

We face a similar challenge in our own lives. Sometimes we need to make a greater effort to understand one another. At other times we need clearer limits. And there are also circumstances where we need to change the arrangement that keeps bringing us into conflict. Abraham’s example reminds us that creating distance does not have to mean abandoning the people from whom we have grown apart.

The next time we find ourselves in a familiar argument, perhaps we should ask what keeps bringing us back to the same place. Would more patience help, or has the way we relate to one another become part of the problem?

Abraham and Lot chose to go their separate ways, but Abraham never stopped being responsible for his nephew. Sometimes we need to give a relationship a little distance. Yet we still need to be there when the other person needs us.

This post is part of Bein Adam L’Parashah – a series of essays drawing inspiration from the weekly Torah portion to improve our relationships with one another (bein adam l’chaveiro).