From Justice To Tikkun Olam: Vayeira.21

 From Justice To Tikkun Olam: Vayeira

By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

October 22, 2021

This week’s Torah portion, Vayeira, (Genesis 18:1-22:24) raises some of the most difficult questions about God, justice and fairness. The portion pivots around three key events: the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah; the casting out of Abraham’s first-born son, Ishmael; and the story known as The Akeida—the binding—and near-sacrifice of Isaac. 

At the center of each of these stories stands Abraham, a man whose faith in God is nearly perfect, yet who, as a human being, seems flawed and inconsistent. 

“Far be it from You to do such a thing as this, to slay the righteous with the wicked… Shall not the judge of all the earth deal justly?” Abraham exclaims as he pleads for the Sodomites, doomed by God for their evil deeds. Yet he remains utterly silent and obedient when God commands him to offer his own, pure and innocent son, Isaac, as a burnt offering. 

And how to rationalize the unfairness with which Abraham treats his two sons, Ishmael and Isaac? A similar question may be posed in this case as well: Shall not a father’s love be shared equally between the one son and the other?

To be sure, the idea of sending Ishmael out into the wilderness is not Abraham’s. In fact, he does so at Sarah’s insistence, and with the approval—even blessing—of God. Abraham, in fact, disapproves of this demand, yet he goes along with it, reassured that God will take care of Ishmael. Yet the inherent unfairness of this act is disturbing, and its tragic consequences last to our own day.

The title of this portion, Vayeira, comes to tell us that God appears to Abraham. To skeptics and disbelievers however, this portion serves as proof that there is no fairness and no justice in this world. God does as God pleases, no matter what we say, no matter how fervently we pray or plead. And like God, parents too, all-too-often favor one child over another, with predictable results. Families are riven by jealousy and the innocent suffer for no apparent reason. The faults, it seems, are inherent, built into the system, and there is nothing we can do to change things.

And so, why even bother trying? 

As Abraham argues with God about Sodom’s fate, he brings up a reminder of God’s vow to “Never again… destroy every living being.” The guilty alone must bear the consequences; the innocent must be spared. Yet, as he barters with God, lowering the bar from fifty righteous people down to ten, he stops as he hears God’s final offer: “I will not destroy [the city] for the sake of the ten.” Even Abraham knows that God’s patience is not limitless, that God’s anger, once ignited, is impossible to quench. God’s will be done, Abraham understands, and he resigns himself to that undisputable, and often tragic, fact. 

The stories told in parashat Vayeira leave us feeling frustrated: Must injustice prevail? How can we allow unfairness— sheer luck and happenstance—wreak misery on the weak, tired and forlorn? Why must the innocent suffer?

Yet Abraham’s inability to dissuade God from God’s harsh intentions is not a total failure. As with every experience in life, there are lessons to be learned. Abraham realizes that even he—conversant with God—is powerless to change some things. Yet even as he comes to understand this, he teaches us all about the potential embedded in each of us to make a difference in the world.  

It’s a revolutionary idea. We commonly think of a rotten apple spoiling the whole barrel. History has shown how entire societies fall into the trap of following tyrants blindly, of “just obeying orders.” But rarely do we stop to consider—as Abraham does—the far-reaching effect of a kind and righteous deed. It can literally change the world for the better. And if that is true for one individual, how much more so for ten, one hundred, or a thousand!

Rather than merely accept the unfairness and injustice in the world, Abraham shows his descendants a new path: Tikkun Olam—fixing the brokenness of the world around us. 

Life is often unfair. There is no question of that. And sometimes our pursuit of justice goes wildly off-course. Guilt is sometimes assumed, punishment imposed without proper proof—or even any proof whatsoever. Good people end up suffering for no apparent reason.

The important lesson that Parashat Vayeira teaches us, however, is that we are not helpless. That we cannot and must not be merely onlookers. To the extent of our ability, we must offer help to those less advantaged, whom life has treated more harshly than us. Acts of kindness, charity and righteousness are limitless in their effect. And if enough of us engage in these, the outcome would be undeniable.

The world that Abraham lived in was not much different from our own. True, it was more primitive and less civilized: Laws were harsh and often unjust; cruel religions and perverse gods demanded child sacrifice; the rich and powerful abused their might without restraint; plagues and diseases ravaged the countryside. Yet today we encounter similar challenges. There is still oppression and misery, hunger, ignorance, rampant injustice and unfairness in life. But what Abraham, our People’s first Patriarch, taught all of us is that we must not ignore these challenges. A broken world needs fixing. 

And that is the most important and lasting lesson of this important Torah portion. “For the sake of ten righteous people, I will not destroy the city.” And the more righteous people who devote their time and energy to decency and goodness, the safer and more secure will our world be for all its inhabitants. As Father Abraham has taught us, the cause is ours now to plead and work towards.

© 2021 by Boaz D. Heilman