Our Parshah opens with one of the most well known passages in the Torah, that of Jacob’s ladder. Fleeing from his brother to his uncle’s place in Haran, Jacob sleeps and has a dream or vision. He sees a ladder reaching to heaven with angels going up and down. G-d stands above promising him that he will look after him and bring him back safely.

The commentators have given various interpretations to this strange vision of an angelic ladder. One of the most common, brought by Rashi, is that this was a changing of the angelic guard. The angels of the Land of Israel were departing and the angels of outside Israel were coming to escort him. This interpretation is given more credence by the fact that at the end of the Parshah he is also greeted by angels, interpreted as the changing of the guard in the opposite direction. This thus creates an angelic symmetry to the Parshah. Other than a slight geographical problem, Bet El is not on the border, this interpretation also throws up an interesting question. What does it mean to have angels of Israel and angels of the Diaspora? In what way is the spirituality of the Exile different from that of the Land of Israel.

There can be many answers to this question from the prosaic to the mystical, but the simplest explanation is one of responsibility. Jews outside Israel are, no matter how well integrated, living in someone else’s land. They are not, ultimately, responsible for the destiny of that country. They do not bear responsibility for its conduct or direction. Jews in Israel, however, have responsibility for the state, its destiny and conduct.

This difference has a profound effect on the application and even philosophy of Judaism. In the Diaspora, while Jews may have an influence on the conduct of the state, it is as individual citizens, not as Jews. In Israel the conduct of the state, especially in confronting the moral dilemmas raised by conflict and the use of force are the sole responsibility of Jews and Judaism. For many Diaspora Jews this is an uncomfortable experience. It is far easier to be a powerless victim or a guest in someone else’s society without such moral dilemmas. But that is a cop out. Facing the moral issues of running a state and employing an army are precisely what the Torah mandates for and expects of Jews and Judaism and we should not shy away from living up to that challenge with all its moral anguish and painful dilemmas.

The first verses of our Parshah deal with the death of Sarah and Abraham’s reaction to it. However, they present a bit of a conundrum. Sarah dies in Hebron and Abraham is presented as ‘coming’ to eulogise and weep for her. The verb seems to imply that he came from somewhere else and indeed, at the end of last week’s Parshah, we find Abraham in Beersheba. This raises the question of why Sarah died in Hebron and where was Abraham at the time and why?

Various answers are given from the prosaic to the profound. It is even, with modern sensibilities, possible to speculate that Abraham and Sarah were not living together at the time. Had they become estranged by the near sacrifice of Isaac by his father? Another reading of the verse suggests that Abraham was not away anywhere but that the verb ’to come’ is simply the expression used when going to eulogise someone.

A combination of both these answers may emerge if we contemplate another question. Why did Abraham eulogise Sarah before arranging the funeral? To weep immediately we understand but to give a eulogy when you haven’t yet arranged the burial seems rather strange. I would suggest that the answer lies precisely in the puzzling use of the verb ‘to come’. One ‘comes’ to eulogise because one arrives from your previous perception of the deceased to a new understanding of their worth. One sees the dead person in a new light, understanding all they meant to you, which you may not have  fully appreciated before.

Abraham may indeed have been in Hebron with Sarah when she died. But as he contemplates her death he comes to the full realisation of what she meant to him. Abraham and Sarah had many disagreements and some fault him for not always taking her interests into account. Thus when she dies, Abraham not only weeps over her but ‘eulogises’ her; re-evaluates their relationship and realises how she generally got things right, even when he thought otherwise. Thus he only now comes to fully appreciate her importance. This section teaches us an important lesson. We shouldn’t wait till someone dies to understand their importance and contribution. Rather let us appreciate them while they are with us, before it is too late. While it is important to memorialise the dead it is even more important to appreciate the living.

One of the stories about Abraham and Sarah concerns their stay with the Philistines. Abraham, as he did earlier in Egypt, says that Sarah is his sister. Avimelech, the king, takes Sarah into his harem. He then receives a divine vision warning him of Sarah’s true identity and commanding him to return her or else…

An interesting feature of this vision is the interaction between G-d and Avimelech in which Avimelech protests his innocence and G-d only partially agrees. After explaining that Abraham had said that Sarah was his sister he states that he acted with a pure heart and clean hands in the matter. G-d answers that He knows that he acted with a pure heart, yet he does not mention the clean hands. The commentators point out that while he was ignorant of Sarah’s true identity he still wished to be with her and only G-d prevented this desire from being consummated. Thus there was really no blameless action here.

These two ideas, intention and action and the interplay between them, are thus highlighted in this interaction. One can be completely innocent in both one’s intentions and actions or completely guilty in both. One can also, however, have pure intentions but act in a way that is not consistent with them. One can also do the ‘right thing’ or refrain from a wrong action while really seeking to do evil. The first two cases are easy to define and identify, the last two scenarios are more complex and difficult to judge.

This is especially true if we are evaluating the actions of politicians or other leaders. Here we can see both sides of this equation come into play. Politicians will often state their pure intentions but act in ways that are at variance with what they say. They will claim to not be doing something or not intending a certain outcome, when it is obvious that their actions will lead to just such a result. On the other hand they can seemingly act in the correct manner while creating serious suspicion as to their real intentions.

We have unfortunately seen a lot of both over the last few years. There are those that claim to care about us while taking actions that show the precise opposite, while there are others who act in a positive manner but frame their actions in a way that leads to a well based suspicion of their real intentions. Often both are done by the very same people. What G-d achieves in His subtle omission of ‘clean hands’ in his reply to Avimelech is to call out this double dealing for what it is. He thus teaches us to do the same to the unscrupulous politicians of our own time.

There is a well known divergence between the commentators on how they view the Patriarchal stories and especially how the interpret the rabbinic dictum that ‘the actions of the fathers are a sign to the children’. Rashi sees the Patriarchs as examples to be followed and thus rarely criticises their actions. Ramban, on the other hand, sees them as genetic progenitors of the Jewish people and thus highlights where their conduct was deficient and the consequences for later Jewish history.

 If we look at the three cases in the Parshah where he applies this method we can learn lessons for our own individual and national behaviour. The first case where he levels such criticism concerns Abraham’s conduct when faced with a famine in Canaan. He finds fault with him in that he descended to Egypt rather than trusting in G-d’s promise of the Land. Because of this his children would be enslaved in Egypt. He also severely criticises him for passing off Sarah as his sister and thus endangering her. Finally, he chastises Abraham and Sarah for their treatment of Hagar. Because of this treatment his descendants were fated to have a difficult relationship with the descendants of Hagar and Ishmael.

If we examine these three cases we can discern three flaws in Abraham’s character that he passed down to us: a loss of vision, relying on questionable methods in place of trusting G-d, and seeking peace at a problematic cost. While the famine is seen as one of the ten trials that Abraham successfully endured, in that he only temporarily abandoned the Land, it showed a lack of vision. While the present situation was difficult, G-d had promised him the Land and he should have tried to remain. This same flaw caused Jacob to be seduced into Egypt and led to the bondage which followed. Sometimes one has to have a long term vision despite a difficult present and in this Abraham and his descendants sometimes fail. We also fail in relying on dubious means rather than trusting in G-d. The prophets are constantly criticising Israel for relying on Egypt or Assyria/  Babylon rather than G-d. Abraham was also mistaken in allowing Sarah to mistreat Hagar in order to preserve peace in his household, rather than confronting a clear misuse of power. This in the end only stored up problems for the future. Jews also have this habit of sometimes preferring peace at any cost when all we get is a dubious temporary truce.

Thus by following the Ramban’s analysis of Abraham’s actions we can learn the genetic flaws in the Jewish character that we, as he descendants, need to be aware of and correct.

The beginning of the story of the Flood describes Noah as a righteous man perfect or whole in his generation. The modifier at the end of this description has given rise to various interpretations. Some interpreted it favourably, stating that if Noah was righteous in the evil and doomed generation of the flood then how much more would he have achieved had he lived during a more wholesome period. Others interpreted this phrase in a less favourable light. In contrast to his surroundings Noah was deemed as righteous but if he had lived in the generation of Abraham, for example, he would not have been considered anything special.

If we delve deeper into these two possibilities we can learn something about the relationship of a person to their environment and the effect they can have upon it. It is possible to understand the favourable view of Noah as explaining why Noah wasn’t an Abraham. Living in the degenerate environment that surrounded him he had to expend all his energy simply in order to avoid being dragged down by his toxic surroundings. In a less problematic situation he would have been able to shine and be an Abraham. The opposite view sees Noah as a fundamentally weak character whose character deficiencies were hidden by the darkness of his surroundings which allowed him to seem to shine but in the presence of a true star like Abraham, no one would have noticed him.

The real crux of the debate hinges on the respective character of their specific generations. If the generation of the Flood was particularly evil then Noah can be forgiven for not having the influence of Abraham. However if Abraham’s generation was just as problematic (Sodom and Gomorrah come to mind), then Noah has less excuse.

Whatever side you choose in this debate it is clear that the Rabbis have in their discussion on this verse raised fundamental questions concerning how we are affected by the society in which we live and to what extent we can affect it. Is our ability to live in a moral manner circumscribed by our environment or is our moral probity a personal choice irrespective of the nature of our surroundings? Is our ability to influence our surroundings increased or decreased by us holding contrary views to others? Finally, can we blame our failures or lack of accomplishments on the environment that surrounds us or is it all down to our own character deficiencies. The very fact that the commentators disagreed on how to interpret this initial description of Noah tells us that there are no simple answers to these questions and indeed each case may be unique. But the enigma they raise is both important and worth contemplating nonetheless.

The first verses of the Torah and the rabbinic midrashim on them provide an introduction for some of the themes that will feature throughout the Torah. The Torah begins with the world in chaos. The first thing that is created is light and the distinction between light and darkness. Only afterwards is the water separated from the sky and the land from the water. The light and darkness discussed in the first verses is not the physical light which emanates from the sun and moon, which were only created on the fourth day. Rather they are a form of spiritual light that according to the midrash was hidden and will return to shine on the righteous in the future world. What our Sages are telling us is that the first act of creation is the moral distinction between light and darkness, good and evil. Preceding the physical foundations of the universe are its moral foundations.

Two other midrashim that Rashi brings at the very beginning of his commentary on the Torah emphasises the importance of the Jewish role in this moral foundation. The world was created for the sake of Israel, who are called reishit or ‘beginning’. Also, the Torah begins with the account of creation in order to emphasise the Jewish right to the Land of Israel, which was given by G-d, who created the world and thus owns it, to the people of Israel. The centrality of the people of Israel and the Land of Israel are two other basic themes that permeate the whole of the Torah.

These three ideas are of course connected. The Jewish people, through both their lifestyle and history,  are the ultimate exemplars of the idea that the universe has a moral basis and that the fate of individuals and nations is not dependent only on material circumstances but on their moral probity and ethical behaviour. The same is true of the Land of Israel. It is in this land, in its environment and history, that the moral governance of the world can be most clearly discerned. Through the history of People of Israel in the Land of Israel, both their triumphs and tragedies, we can perceive the workings of the principle of moral accountability and the distinction between light and darkness set out at the beginning of the Torah.

 It is for this reason that those that want to deny and distort this principle firstly attack the Jews and especially the Jews in their land. It is, however, also for this reason that in the end they will fail and good will prevail as the light drives out the darkness.