“Parenthood” Parashat Lech Lecha 5787
When Abraham leaves for the Land of Israel in response to G-d’s command, he does not travel alone. He takes his wife, Sarah, his possessions, and his nephew, Lot. Lot’s presence is more than a biographical detail. Abraham is called upon to establish a new kind of family, defined not by geography or ancestry, but by commitment to one G-d. Abraham has been chosen to father a nation, but parenthood in the Torah is more than biological continuity. It is the transmission of values. Lot presents an early challenge: How do you transmit a legacy to someone in your family who may not necessarily share your convictions? The question is not whether Abraham can physically bring Lot along. He can. It is whether he can bring him along in spirit. That distinction lies at the heart of the story.
The Torah’s language concerning Lot provides a clue. When we first meet Lot, he is repeatedly identified by his relationship with Abraham – but not always. We are told [Bereishit 12:4] “[Plain old] Lot went with Abraham”, but in the next verse [Bereishit 12:5] we hear how “Abraham took Lot, his brother’s son”. Lot wants to join him but Abraham brings him along specifically because he is family and his mission includes transmitting his understanding of G-d to the next generation. Yet Lot gradually develops an agenda of his own. When their shepherds quarrel, Abraham proposes that they separate and offers Lot the first choice. Lot chooses the fertile Jordan plain, eventually settling near Sodom. Notice what Abraham does not do. He does not invoke family loyalty to force Lot to remain. Abraham permits a choice whose consequences he cannot control. Their separation exposes what their proximity had hidden: traveling with Abraham does not mean sharing Abraham’s destination.
This distinction becomes clearer during an ensuing war. The Torah tells how the victorious kings took Lot and his possessions [Bereishit 14:12] “because he was living in Sodom”. Only afterwards [Bereishit 14:14] does the verse identify him as Abraham’s nephew. The order is striking. Lot is first defined by the possessions and ethical conduct that place him within Sodom, while his relationship to Abraham is stated separately, almost as an afterthought. Yet this is precisely when the family bond becomes decisive. Abraham hears that “his nephew” has been captured and he mobilizes his men to rescue him. The family designation drives the rescue. Lot may have chosen another path but Abraham does not conclude that their relationship is worthless. The Torah’s movement between Lot as an individual and as Abraham’s relative reveals a dichotomy: a person is responsible for his choices, yet those choices do not erase family obligations. Abraham’s loyalty is not a response to Lot’s spiritual success. It survives even when that success is uncertain.
The Beit HaLevi[1] illuminates Abraham’s conduct. Abraham’s willingness to let Lot choose is similar to Naomi’s treatment of her daughters-in-law in the Book of Ruth. Returning to Judah after the deaths of her husband and sons, Naomi urges Ruth and Orpah to return to their families rather than follow her into uncertainty. Orpah returns while Ruth makes a declaration of loyalty and continues with Naomi. Had Naomi adjured them to accompany her, their presence would have proved little about their inner commitments. By making departure genuinely possible, she makes Ruth’s decision meaningful. Abraham follows the same principle, allowing Lot to choose his land although it removes him from Abraham’s influence. In both stories, a leader refuses to confuse loyalty with obedience. Naomi cannot demand that Ruth join her in Judah just as Abraham cannot demand that Lot carry his spiritual mission. The possibility of refusal makes voluntary commitment possible. Ruth shows that a legacy is transmitted only when someone freely chooses to carry it.
Lot’s story also reveals what happens when family loyalty loses its moral direction. After the destruction of Sodom, the boundaries within Lot’s family collapse, and from an incestuous relationship with his daughters emerge Moab and Ammon. The Torah does not hide the degradation of their origins. Yet neither does it allow those origins to dictate the end of the story. Years later, two women descended from those nations become indispensable links in the Davidic dynasty. Ruth the Moabite becomes the great-grandmother of King David. Naamah the Ammonite becomes the mother of King Rehoboam, through whom the Davidic royal line continues. Both women enter the family of Abraham not because biology compels them, but because history is capable of transforming a damaged inheritance into a redemptive one. The descendants of Lot’s most broken family moment become part of the dynasty from which the Messiah will ultimately emerge. Family, the Torah suggests, is neither automatically holy nor permanently disqualified. Its meaning depends upon the choices through which its members carry the past into the future.
This casts Lot’s outcome in a more complicated light. He survives Sodom’s destruction but the Torah does not present his survival as the successful transmission of Abraham’s values. His family fractures and his descendants become nations with a complex relationship towards Israel. Yet, Ruth, descended from Moab, and Naamah, descended from Ammon, jettison their past and choose to join the destiny of the Jewish People. Lot enjoys proximity to Abraham, but proximity does not ensure that he internalizes Abraham’s mission. Ruth and Naamah begin outside the covenantal family but choose to enter its story through loyalty and conviction. The family connection that matters most is therefore not merely the one established by birth. It is the one made meaningful by a conscious commitment to continue a legacy. Biological family remains important, as Abraham’s rescue of Lot proves, but it cannot predetermine the spiritual result. The Torah can identify Lot as Abraham’s nephew while showing that he still must choose his own path. It can identify Ruth as a Moabite and Naamah as an Ammonite while still making them central to Israel’s future. We must distinguish between inheriting a mission and accepting it.
Abraham’s greatness, then, is not measured by whether everyone traveling with him reaches the same destination. It lies in remaining faithful to his mission and a burning desire to teach others what he has discovered, without denying them their freedom. He brings Lot into his household, allows him to separate, rescues him when captured, and preserves the family bond even when Lot’s choices are suboptimal. Naomi likewise lets Ruth and Orpah decide whether to follow, knowing that a forced journey could not produce the same legacy as a freely chosen one. Both narratives teach that leadership is neither passive indifference nor total control. It is the discipline of providing direction, maintaining relationships, and accepting the limits of influence. Abraham can open the road, demonstrate its possibilities, and remain available when Lot needs him. He cannot choose Lot’s destination.
But the story does not end with Lot. When the Torah first describes his response to Abraham’s journey, it says, “Lot went with him” [Bereishit 12:4]. The wording suggests that Lot’s first impulse was not simply submission to family obligation. He wanted to accompany Abraham. That desire did not mature in Lot himself, but it was not lost. Generations later, Ruth the Moabite, Lot’s descendant, again chooses to go with a bearer of Abraham’s legacy. What remained incomplete in Lot becomes conscious commitment in Ruth. Lot went with Abraham; Ruth declares to Naomi [Ruth 1:16] “Where you go, I will go.” Through her, Lot’s first movement toward Abraham finally reaches its destination, entering the house of David and, ultimately, the line of the Messiah.
Shabbat Shalom,
Ari Sacher, Moreshet, 5787
Please daven for a Refu’a Shelema for Rachel bat Malka, Yiftach ben Adi, Iris bat Chana, Sheindel Devora bat Rina, Esther Sharon bat Chana Raizel, Meir ben Drora, Golan ben Marcelle and Hodayah Emunah bat Shoshana Rachel.
[1] Rabbi Chaim HaLevi Soloveitchik, also known as the “Gaon Rav Chaim”, and the “Beit HaLevi”, lived in Brisk, Belarus, at the turn of the 20th century.
