Philo, the great Jewish philosopher of Alexandria, grappled with this very question. And his answer, preserved in "The Midrash of Philo," is surprisingly insightful. He suggests that the phrase "I will greatly increase thee" is especially fitting for a wise person. Why? Because, according to Philo, wickedness doesn't actually lead to increase; it leads to deficiency, like flowers withering on the vine. But a life extended in wisdom? That's like a river, constantly flowing, growing wider, and nourishing everything it touches.
Think about that for a moment. It's not just about living longer, but about how we live.
Then there's the promise, "I will set thee among the nations." This, Philo argues, is about Abraham becoming a foundation for all people, not just his own. He's meant to be a beacon of wisdom, offering guidance to those "in want in respect of their minds." In essence, Abraham, in Philo's view, becomes something of a universal redeemer, an intercessor, pleading for forgiveness on behalf of all humankind. Powerful stuff, right? It speaks to the responsibility that comes with wisdom, the obligation to share it and use it for good.
And finally, the promise, "Kings shall come forth from thee." This isn't just about literal kings, Philo contends. Instead, it's about the royal seed of wisdom itself. Wisdom, he says, is the offspring of the "chief and master according to nature," meaning God. Interestingly, Philo adds that the wise man himself doesn't own this seed. He's not its source. Rather, he's fertile ground, allowing the seed of divine wisdom to take root and flourish. He is the vessel, if you will.
So, what does this all mean for us? It suggests that true increase isn't just about material wealth or power. It's about cultivating wisdom, becoming a source of support for others, and allowing the divine spark within us to shine. It's about recognizing that we are all, in a way, vessels for something greater than ourselves. Are we ready to embrace that role?