A
Modern Midrash:
Abraham's Ten Regrets

Parshat Vayera 5763
20 Cheshvan 5763 - October 26, 2002
By Rabbi Mark B. Greenspan
Do you know anyone who doesn't have regrets? I don't. Regrets are as
common as the air we breathe. The only question is what we choose to
do with our regrets, how we use them, and whether we allow them to become
tools for our growth or anchors that weigh us down.
This morning I'd like to do something a little
different than what I normally do on Shabbat. Rather than deliver a
sermon, I'd like to share an original Midrash with you that I've been
thinking about for some time. This Midrash concerns Abraham's ten regrets.
That's right - our forefather's regrets. Not
his ten trials but his ten regrets. What's that - you mean you've never
heard these regrets before? Maybe that's because no one took the time
to record them. But they are there in the text - I hear them loud and
clearly every time I read the story of Abraham.
Before I tell you about Abraham's regrets, however,
I need to explain what a Midrash is. Midrash is a word we Rabbis use
all the time. You'll hear us say, "The Midrash says…"
or "According to the Midrash…" In fact
Midrash is the bread and butter (or maybe the Challah and Gribenes)
of what we do when we stand here on the Bimah. Taken from the Hebrew
word, Drash - "to search out," Midrash is a genre of literature
as well as a method of interpreting the Bible. Rather than simply trying
to understand what the Torah says, Midrash is a way of interacting with
the text, wrestling with the word of God, and asking ourselves, 'what
does this mean for us today?'
Rabbi Lawrence Kushner offered what I consider
to be the best definition of Midrash. He said that a Midrash is the
story or an explanation that is inspired by what happens in between
the words of the Torah. As we move from one word to the next, questions
occur - we wonder why did things happen this way or that, why does the
Torah say what it says, and what did God (or our forefathers) have in
mind? Midrash often gives birth to new stories and new explanations
which aren't found in the Torah but which are inspired by the Torah.
So this morning I'd like to share with you my
own attempt at Midrash. One way of composing a Midrash is by putting
ourselves in the position of the characters of the Torah. What did they
think; how did they feel? The Torah never reveals this - but who knows
- maybe this is what was on our forefather's mind….
Parshat Vayera contains the most mystifying chapter
in the Torah: the binding of Isaac. After years of childlessness, Abraham
and Sarah are blessed with a son. Yet no sooner do we read of Isaac's
birth, the Torah tells us that God instructs our forefather to take
his beloved son and sacrifice him on the altar.
Not too many weeks ago we read this story in
synagogue on Rosh Hashanah. Each time I read the story of the Binding
of Isaac I find myself asking so many questions. Why is Abraham silent?
Why doesn't he challenge God's decree? And how can God ask Abraham to
commit such a horrifying act? Of course when we read the story of the
Akedah we're told that God is merely testing Abraham - in other words,
God had no intention of going through with it. But Abraham didn't know
this, did he?
In fact the Midrash (not mine but the classical
Midrash) suggests that this is but one of several tests or trials that
Abraham faced throughout his life. Beginning with the command to leave
his family and go off to an unknown country, time and again God challenges
Abraham, and tests his faith and loyalty. Abraham is asked to choose
between God's will and his own nature.
What I'd like to suggest this morning is that
Abraham faced not only tests but regrets. I'd like you to imagine a
moment sometime after the Akedah. Abraham, already an old man, looks
back at his life and begins to reflect on all that he has experienced.
And as he does so, he realizes that he has had not only some extraordinary
experiences but that he also has many regrets as well. Of course, Abraham
has no regrets about following God. But only if he had had the presence
to speak up, things might have turned out differently.
So Abraham looks back at his life. He's certain
that he did the right thing by answering God's call, "to go the
land that I will show you." But as he thinks about it, Abraham
regrets deserting his elderly father in Haran in order to start a new
life for himself. After all, Abraham went off to Canaan and never looked
back, and as a result he never saw his father or his family again.
Abraham reflects on his experiences in Egypt
and among the Philistines. Twice he passed Sarah off as his sister rather
than tell the rulers that she was his wife. Abraham was happy that he
had protected himself, but he regretted having done so at Sarah's expense.
He knew this was no way to treat one's partner.
Abraham believed in God but doubted Him. Many
times through his years of childlessness he asked for a sign or a miracle
that God would bless him with an heir. Looking back Abraham had regrets
about his lack of faith in God's promise. In the end God did just as
he had told him - he had given him a son.
As he thought about his older son, Ishmael, Abraham
had many gnawing doubts and regrets. He loved Ishmael but he was sorry
that he had allowed Sarah to convince him to take Hagar as his concubine.
He knew that all too often what people say and what they mean are not
the same thing. If he had listened more carefully he would have heard
the desperate tone in her voice. Worst of all, he had terrible regrets
about turning Hagar and Ishmael away from his camp and leaving them
in the middle of the wilderness.
Worst of all, Abraham had many regrets about
the Akedah, the binding of his son, Isaac, on the altar. He wondered
if he should have argued more passionately with God when God said to
make Isaac an offering. After all, when God threatened to destroy Sodom
and Gomorrah, Abraham had challenged God's very justice to save the
people of the cities. Yet when it came to his own son he passively accepted
what God decreed.
Abraham also wondered if he should have simply
said "no" when God asked for Sarah's first born as a sacrifice.
Surely that is what God had really wanted.
Abraham shuttered as he thought of that terrible
day: he and Isaac silently walking up the mountain, secretly knowing
what was about to happen, but unable to discuss it. Isaac had gone along
with his father, even though he knew full well that he was to be the
offering.
And ever since that day, the two of them had
never spoken again - that was Abraham's biggest regret of all. Abraham
had returned from Mount Moriah to the all by himself. Sarah, seeing
her husband without Isaac had thought the worse and had been stricken
dead on the spot, certain that her husband had sacrificed their only
son. All alone, Abraham had much too much time to dwell on all his regrets.
As he looked back though, Abraham understood
that life is filled with triumphs as well as regrets. It's hard to avoid
them. In the end all we can do is think about these regrets and learn
from them so that the future will be different. After all regrets are
an opportunity to look at ourselves and try to do things differently
next time.
Having considered our regrets we must be willing
to move on. Abraham knew that a life spent dwelling on our regrets in
the end is a life that is wasted. And yet he also understood that regrets
can never be ignored.
Isn't it ironic, he thought? Abraham's most heroic and controversial
deeds were also the source of his deepest regrets. He realized there
was no way of avoiding them. He wondered if future generations would
judge him kindly. After all, he was nothing more than a simple tribal
chief.
And maybe this was the final test - to learn
how to deal with his sorrow and remorse. If he could do that, maybe
then Abraham could live his life with a sense of certainty and peace
of mind.
Shabbat Shalom