We get glimpses, fragments really, in the Torah, but the Rabbis, through their interpretations, give us access to a deeper understanding of his actions. Take, for example, the verse in Genesis 12:8: "He built an altar to the Lord there." Simple enough, right? But Rabbi Elazar, in Bereshit Rabbah 39, sees more than meets the eye. He suggests that Abraham didn't just build one altar, but three.
Why three? Well, each altar served a specific purpose, a distinct expression of gratitude and foresight. The first, Rabbi Elazar explains, was for the good tidings – the promise of the Land of Israel itself. (Genesis 12:7). Imagine the weight of that promise! An entire land, destined for his descendants. Wouldn't you build an altar to mark such a momentous occasion?
The second altar, according to Rabbi Elazar, was built to celebrate the acquisition of that land, a tangible step towards fulfilling God’s promise. (Genesis 13:18). It's one thing to be promised something; it's another to actually hold a piece of it in your hands. This altar was a celebration of that burgeoning reality.
But the third altar... this is where it gets really interesting. Rabbi Elazar suggests it was built so that Abraham’s descendants would not fall in battle (Genesis 12:8). A preemptive strike, in a way, against future suffering. You see, the Rabbis believed that Abraham, in his righteousness, could influence the destiny of his offspring.
This idea is further explored with the story of the battle of Ai. Remember when Joshua and the elders of Israel, devastated by defeat, "rent their garments, fell on their face to the ground before the Ark of the Lord until the evening, he and the elders of Israel, and they put dust on their heads" (Joshua 7:6)? Rabbi Elazar ben Shamua suggests that they were actually evoking the merit of Abraham, crying out, in essence, "We are but dust and ashes!" (Genesis 18:27). The implication? Abraham had built an altar in Ai specifically to protect his descendants from falling there! The Rabbis are suggesting that Abraham's actions had long-lasting consequences, influencing events centuries later.
The verse continues, "And proclaimed [vayikra] the name of the Lord." Vayikra, literally, "he called." But what did he call? Here, the Rabbis see Abraham as a missionary, actively converting people and bringing them "under the wings of the Divine Presence." He wasn't just building altars; he was building a community, a following, a future.
And finally, "Abram journeyed, steadily journeying to the Negev" (Genesis 12:9). The text repeats: "Abram journeyed, steadily journeying to the Negev." Why the repetition? Bereshit Rabbah interprets this as Abraham deliberately setting his sights and charting his course towards the site of the future Temple in Jerusalem. Even in his travels, Abraham was laying the groundwork for the holiest site in Judaism.
So, what does all this tell us? It reveals a Abraham who wasn't just a passive recipient of divine promises, but an active participant in shaping the destiny of his people. He was a builder – of altars, of communities, and of a legacy that continues to resonate with us today. His actions, as interpreted by the Rabbis, were deliberate, far-sighted, and deeply rooted in a desire to connect with God and protect his descendants. It makes you wonder, doesn't it, what kind of legacy we're building with our own actions, big and small?