Living in the Friction of the Universal and the Particular
Rabbi Tom Samuels
I love the scene in Fiddler on the Roof when Tevye the Milkman, after the news of the Tzar’s forced expulsion of the Jews of his town, Anatevka, cries out to God, “I know, I know. We are Your Chosen People… But, once in a while, can’t You choose someone else?”
For over two thousand years, every year, we read from the Torah about the Jewish people’s destiny:
כִּי-מֵרֹאשׁ צֻרִים אֶרְאֶנּוּ, וּמִגְּבָעוֹת אֲשׁוּרֶנּוּ: הֶן-עָם לְבָדָד יִשְׁכֹּן וּבַגּוֹיִם לֹא יִתְחַשָּׁב,
As I see them from the mountain tops, Gaze on them from the heights, Behold it is a people that dwells alone, Not reckoned among the nations. (Numbers 23: 9)
And, for as many generations of human civilization, this description, of a people who stand outside of history, beyond the rules which govern the fate of all other peoples, is either embraced with pride or used as a catalyst for resentment and hatred.
Throughout the Torah, in fact, throughout Hebrew scripture, there is this constant tension, an on going, unresolvable paradox, between the universal and the particular: Who are we? Who are we suppose to serve? Are we part of the universal human experience? Are we a particular, tribal people? Where do our allegiances stand first and foremost with?
A classic example of this struggle is found in the treatment of the Torah’s text where God instructs Abraham:
לֶךְ-לְךָ מֵאַרְצְךָוּמִמּוֹלַדְתְּךָ וּמִבֵּית אָבִיךָ, אֶל-הָאָרֶץ, אֲשֶׁר אַרְאֶךָּ
…go out of your land, and from your kindred birthplace and your father’s house, unto the land that I will show you… (Genesis 12:1)
A clear message of particularism, tribalism, an ethnocentric mandate to establish a new family nation. And then, immediately afterwards, God tells Abraham:
וְנִבְרְכוּ בְךָ, כֹּל מִשְׁפְּחֹת הָאֲדָמָה
…and through you shall all families of the earth be blessed. (Genesis 12:3)
A contradictory message of universalism.
So, which is it? What is the message in these formative lines of the Bible?
Let’s continue reading this storyline:
וַיִּקַּח אַבְרָם אֶת-שָׂרַי אִשְׁתּוֹ וְאֶת-לוֹט ן-אָחִיו, וְאֶת-כָּל-רְכוּשָׁם אֲשֶׁר רָכָשׁוּ, וְאֶת-הַנֶּפֶשׁ, שֶׁר-עָשׂוּ בְחָרָן; וַיֵּצְאוּ, לָלֶכֶת אַרְצָה כְּנַעַן, יָּבֹאוּ, אַרְצָה כְּנָעַן.
And Abram took Sarai his wife, and Lot his brother's son, and all their substance that they had gathered, and the souls that they had gathered in Haran; and they went forth to go into the land of Canaan; and into the land of Canaan they came. (Genesis 12:5)
Rashi, the great medieval Torah commentator, teaches that the words, וְאֶת-הַנֶּפֶשׁ, שֶׁר-עָשׂוּ, ’and the souls that they had gathered’ refers to Abraham and Sarah serving as God’s missionaries, spreading His word and converting the world. A universalistic message. That God’s love, God’s Creation, the Torah itself, are meant for all of humanity.
Another Midrash (Mekhilta De-Rabbi Ishmael) teaches:
"The Torah was given in a free place (i.e. the desert). For had the Torah been given in the land of Israel, the Israelites could have said to the nations of the world, 'You have no share in it.' But now that it was given in the wilderness publicly and openly, in a place that is free for all, everyone wishing to accept it could come and accept it"
That the Torah was given in the desert to emphasize its universal availability. That the Torah was not the property of one nation but was intended for all peoples.” And on the other hand, in the next few lines, we read about Hagar, Abraham’s concubine, bearing children for Abraham. Sarah complains to Abraham:
וַתֹּאמֶר שָׂרַי אֶל-אַבְרָם, חֲמָסִי עָלֶיךָ--אָנֹכִי נָתַתִּי שִׁפְחָתִי בְּחֵיקֶךָ, וַתֵּרֶא כִּי הָרָתָה וָאֵקַל בְּעֵינֶיהָ; יִשְׁפֹּט יְהוָה, בֵּינִי וּבֵינֶיךָ.
And Sarai said unto Abram: ‘the wrong done me is your fault! I myself put my maid in your bosom; now that she sees that she is pregnant, I am lowered in her esteem. The Lord decide between you and me! (Genesis16:5)
The Tosefta (a compilation of the Rabbinic law from the late 2nd century) expands on this dialogue between Sarah and Abraham. It imagines Sarah saying to Abraham. “I see Ishmael building an altar, capturing grasshoppers, and sacrificing them to idols. If he teaches this idolatry to my son Isaac, the name of heaven will be desecrated.” Abraham replies: “After I gave Hagar such advantages, how can I demote her? Now that we have made her a mistress of our house, how can we send her away? What will the other people say about us?”
While Abraham remains primarily concerned about about consecrating God amongst all of humanity, Sarah seems to be saying that charity begins at home, first and foremost! That before we can go out and engage with the rest of the world, before we can share the message of HaShem, Ethical monotheism, we must first secure our own home, our own children’s identity, our own people’s unique sense of purpose. What the famous Scottish philosopher Alasdair Macintyre famously wrote, “I can only answer the question, ‘What am I to do?’ if I can answer the prior question, ‘Of what story or stories do I find myself a part?’”
So, back to the beginning. To my original question. Which is it? Are we to take the particular path of Sarah or the universal path of Abraham? The Torah seems to be telling us, that we are to live in this friction. This paradox. That one informs the other. Brandeis professor Jon Levinson, sums it up beautifully: “Our ethical lives, our decisions about who and how to be in the world, are products of the narrative that we tell about ourselves, which are inevitably bound up in larger narratives that give structure and meaning to our individual stories.”
Rabbi Tom Samuels
I love the scene in Fiddler on the Roof when Tevye the Milkman, after the news of the Tzar’s forced expulsion of the Jews of his town, Anatevka, cries out to God, “I know, I know. We are Your Chosen People… But, once in a while, can’t You choose someone else?”
For over two thousand years, every year, we read from the Torah about the Jewish people’s destiny:
כִּי-מֵרֹאשׁ צֻרִים אֶרְאֶנּוּ, וּמִגְּבָעוֹת אֲשׁוּרֶנּוּ: הֶן-עָם לְבָדָד יִשְׁכֹּן וּבַגּוֹיִם לֹא יִתְחַשָּׁב,
As I see them from the mountain tops, Gaze on them from the heights, Behold it is a people that dwells alone, Not reckoned among the nations. (Numbers 23: 9)
And, for as many generations of human civilization, this description, of a people who stand outside of history, beyond the rules which govern the fate of all other peoples, is either embraced with pride or used as a catalyst for resentment and hatred.
Throughout the Torah, in fact, throughout Hebrew scripture, there is this constant tension, an on going, unresolvable paradox, between the universal and the particular: Who are we? Who are we suppose to serve? Are we part of the universal human experience? Are we a particular, tribal people? Where do our allegiances stand first and foremost with?
A classic example of this struggle is found in the treatment of the Torah’s text where God instructs Abraham:
לֶךְ-לְךָ מֵאַרְצְךָוּמִמּוֹלַדְתְּךָ וּמִבֵּית אָבִיךָ, אֶל-הָאָרֶץ, אֲשֶׁר אַרְאֶךָּ
…go out of your land, and from your kindred birthplace and your father’s house, unto the land that I will show you… (Genesis 12:1)
A clear message of particularism, tribalism, an ethnocentric mandate to establish a new family nation. And then, immediately afterwards, God tells Abraham:
וְנִבְרְכוּ בְךָ, כֹּל מִשְׁפְּחֹת הָאֲדָמָה
…and through you shall all families of the earth be blessed. (Genesis 12:3)
A contradictory message of universalism.
So, which is it? What is the message in these formative lines of the Bible?
Let’s continue reading this storyline:
וַיִּקַּח אַבְרָם אֶת-שָׂרַי אִשְׁתּוֹ וְאֶת-לוֹט ן-אָחִיו, וְאֶת-כָּל-רְכוּשָׁם אֲשֶׁר רָכָשׁוּ, וְאֶת-הַנֶּפֶשׁ, שֶׁר-עָשׂוּ בְחָרָן; וַיֵּצְאוּ, לָלֶכֶת אַרְצָה כְּנַעַן, יָּבֹאוּ, אַרְצָה כְּנָעַן.
And Abram took Sarai his wife, and Lot his brother's son, and all their substance that they had gathered, and the souls that they had gathered in Haran; and they went forth to go into the land of Canaan; and into the land of Canaan they came. (Genesis 12:5)
Rashi, the great medieval Torah commentator, teaches that the words, וְאֶת-הַנֶּפֶשׁ, שֶׁר-עָשׂוּ, ’and the souls that they had gathered’ refers to Abraham and Sarah serving as God’s missionaries, spreading His word and converting the world. A universalistic message. That God’s love, God’s Creation, the Torah itself, are meant for all of humanity.
Another Midrash (Mekhilta De-Rabbi Ishmael) teaches:
"The Torah was given in a free place (i.e. the desert). For had the Torah been given in the land of Israel, the Israelites could have said to the nations of the world, 'You have no share in it.' But now that it was given in the wilderness publicly and openly, in a place that is free for all, everyone wishing to accept it could come and accept it"
That the Torah was given in the desert to emphasize its universal availability. That the Torah was not the property of one nation but was intended for all peoples.” And on the other hand, in the next few lines, we read about Hagar, Abraham’s concubine, bearing children for Abraham. Sarah complains to Abraham:
וַתֹּאמֶר שָׂרַי אֶל-אַבְרָם, חֲמָסִי עָלֶיךָ--אָנֹכִי נָתַתִּי שִׁפְחָתִי בְּחֵיקֶךָ, וַתֵּרֶא כִּי הָרָתָה וָאֵקַל בְּעֵינֶיהָ; יִשְׁפֹּט יְהוָה, בֵּינִי וּבֵינֶיךָ.
And Sarai said unto Abram: ‘the wrong done me is your fault! I myself put my maid in your bosom; now that she sees that she is pregnant, I am lowered in her esteem. The Lord decide between you and me! (Genesis16:5)
The Tosefta (a compilation of the Rabbinic law from the late 2nd century) expands on this dialogue between Sarah and Abraham. It imagines Sarah saying to Abraham. “I see Ishmael building an altar, capturing grasshoppers, and sacrificing them to idols. If he teaches this idolatry to my son Isaac, the name of heaven will be desecrated.” Abraham replies: “After I gave Hagar such advantages, how can I demote her? Now that we have made her a mistress of our house, how can we send her away? What will the other people say about us?”
While Abraham remains primarily concerned about about consecrating God amongst all of humanity, Sarah seems to be saying that charity begins at home, first and foremost! That before we can go out and engage with the rest of the world, before we can share the message of HaShem, Ethical monotheism, we must first secure our own home, our own children’s identity, our own people’s unique sense of purpose. What the famous Scottish philosopher Alasdair Macintyre famously wrote, “I can only answer the question, ‘What am I to do?’ if I can answer the prior question, ‘Of what story or stories do I find myself a part?’”
So, back to the beginning. To my original question. Which is it? Are we to take the particular path of Sarah or the universal path of Abraham? The Torah seems to be telling us, that we are to live in this friction. This paradox. That one informs the other. Brandeis professor Jon Levinson, sums it up beautifully: “Our ethical lives, our decisions about who and how to be in the world, are products of the narrative that we tell about ourselves, which are inevitably bound up in larger narratives that give structure and meaning to our individual stories.”
