The passage opens with Avimelekh and Pikhol approaching Abraham. Now, who exactly was Pikhol? Rabbi Yehuda says Pikhol was his actual name. But Rabbi Nehemya offers a fascinating alternative: he suggests it's an acronym! Peh shekol – "the mouth [peh] of him whom all [shekol] his armies kiss on his mouth." In other words, Pikhol was so beloved by his troops that they showered him with affection. Imagine the loyalty!
But it's what Avimelekh and Pikhol say to Abraham that's truly telling: "God is with you." Why did they say this? Bereshit Rabbah reveals a lot of behind-the-scenes chatter. Apparently, the nations around them had been whispering, "If he were righteous, wouldn't he have begotten a child?" Ouch. It was a constant question mark hanging over Abraham. But once Isaac was born, the tune changed: "God is with you."
And it didn't stop there. They also questioned his righteousness because he listened to his wife, Sarah, especially when she wanted Ishmael banished. As we find in Genesis 21:12, God Himself told Abraham, "Everything that Sarah says to you, heed her voice." Once he did that, the neighbors chimed in again: "God is with you."
Then there was the matter of Ishmael himself. People grumbled, "If he were righteous, would he have spurned his firstborn son?" But once they saw Ishmael’s behavior – whatever that may have been; the text doesn’t elaborate – they finally conceded: "God is with you in everything that you do." Talk about a complete turnaround!
There's another interpretation offered. The text tells us that the sites of Sodom were destroyed, and travelers stopped using the road. Yet, Avimelekh’s food storehouse was still full. Even without passing caravans, he had plenty. That’s why, it was said, "God is with you in everything that you do."
Because God is with you, Avimelekh says, "now take an oath to me here, by God, that you will not deceive me, or my son, or my son’s son." The text then makes an interesting point about familial loyalty: It is until this point, the text says, that the compassion of a father extends to his descendants. Rabbi Abba adds that it's also until this point that brothers remain partners in their inherited property. Think about that for a moment – how far does that sense of obligation and unity extend?
Rabbi Yosei bar Ḥanina brings in a fascinating parallel from Psalms 38:20: "My enemies are mighty with life." He suggests that what was granted to Abraham after seven generations (specifically, allowing his descendants to conquer certain lands) was granted to Avimelekh after only three. Why the difference? "God did not guide them via the land of the Philistines" (Exodus 13:17), because Avimelekh’s grandson was still alive. The text highlights the extraordinary longevity of Avimelekh's line.
Finally, Avimelekh asks Abraham to show him the same kindness he had shown Abraham, referring to when he said, "Behold, my land is before you, [dwell wherever is good in your eyes]" (Genesis 20:15). Interestingly, Abraham didn't take him up on the offer.
So, what can we take away from this glimpse into Bereshit Rabbah? It's a reminder that even our heroes are subject to scrutiny and judgment. It also shows us how perceptions can shift, sometimes dramatically, based on events and circumstances. And perhaps most importantly, it highlights the enduring power of kindness, loyalty, and the long reach of familial bonds. It makes you wonder, doesn't it, what people are saying about us behind our backs? And what will they say after they see what we do next?