Our ancestors dealt with that too, as we see in the story of Abraham and his nephew Lot.
The book of Genesis (12:4) tells us, "Abram went, as the Lord had spoken to him, and Lot went with him." But the ancient rabbis weren't content with just a simple reading. They saw layers of meaning, hints of deeper truths. Bereshit Rabbah, a classic collection of rabbinic interpretations of Genesis, pauses on this verse. It points out the seemingly redundant phrase, "[and Lot went with him]." What's the big deal?
The rabbis suggest this wording tells us that Lot was subordinate to Abraham. He wasn't an equal partner, but rather someone following Abraham’s lead, dependent on his journey. He was along for the ride, so to speak.
And then the verse continues, "Abram was seventy-five years old." Why is Abraham’s age mentioned right here? It seems like a simple detail, but nothing in Torah is ever just a detail.
This leads the rabbis to a fascinating detour, connecting Abraham’s age to none other than Esther, the heroine of the Purim story! The verse in Esther (2:7) states, "He was rearing Hadasa, she was Esther." Hadasa was Esther’s Hebrew name, a name that hints at hidden depths.
But what’s the connection to Abraham? Well, the rabbis launch into a discussion about Esther’s age. Rav says she was forty. Shmuel says eighty. But then, the rabbis chime in with their own opinion: seventy-five years old!
Wait a minute… seventy-five? Just like Abraham!
As the rabbis from Babylon explain, God essentially said to Abraham: "You left your father's house at seventy-five. By your life, the redeemer I will establish from your descendants will also be seventy-five." This corresponds to the numerical value of Hadasa. Now, the numerical value, or gematria, of Hadasa is actually 74, but it was common to add one when making such calculations. (Hebrew letters have numerical values, allowing for hidden connections between words and ideas).
So, what’s the takeaway here?
The rabbis are weaving together seemingly disparate threads: Abraham’s initial journey, Lot’s dependence, Esther’s hidden name, and the numerical value of that name. They’re suggesting a profound connection between beginnings and endings, between leaving the old and embracing the new. Abraham’s departure at seventy-five foreshadows Esther’s eventual role as a redeemer, also linked to that significant number.
It's a reminder that even seemingly small details, like someone's age, can hold profound significance. And that the echoes of the past can resonate in the future in ways we might never expect. Are we open to seeing those connections in our own lives?