Sixth Reading: The Claims of Impurity Against Holiness
“Avimelech said, ‘I do not know who did this thing, nor did you tell me, nor did I hear about it until today.’”
Avimelech stole the wells that Abraham had dug. A well’s gushing water symbolizes the ability to express and vocalize one’s inner vitality and convictions in a way that can provide spiritual sustenance for many other people. Yet Abraham confronted Avimelech about his actions. He argued that it is from his commitment to God that the words that need to gush forth to rectify the world must come. How dare Avimelech ignore this truth and deny it by assuming the role that should obviously be held by Abraham, God’s prophet.
In response, Avimelech counters with three arguments:
- “I did not know who did this thing.” Implying (based on his other words) that he did not even know about the theft of Abraham’s well, and his point is: You, Abraham, also did not make a big fuss over the matter, and you permitted the situation to remain as it is.
- “You too did not tell me about it.” This is a new argument and it implies that even if I should have known without you telling me, for some reason I was not informed, and it was your duty to let me know yourself.
- “And I have not heard until today.” It implies that not only I did not know, but there was also no murmuring about the situation that reached me.
These arguments are archetypes. They represent the types of arguments that the husks of impurity in the world, those forces that oppose holiness, make. They present us with the explanation of why and how impurity leeches off holiness. Let’s look at them one by one.
“I Did Not Know”
To analyze Avimelech’s arguments, we must see him as the representative of all that is unruly, lawless, wrongful, and destructive and Abraham as the representative of God.
The first argument makes the claim that I did know because you do not know, i.e., God Himself does not really care about the difference between good and evil, between order and chaos, and therefore, the impure forces have a right to live lawlessly, to live as they see fit. They too can ignore all that does not lie in their own interest. To know implies an interest in what and who is outside of oneself. And if he who claims to represent the superior morality (Abraham) is not willing to take responsibility and care for those who are locked into their husk and are unwilling to see what lies beyond them, then that seclusion grants the forces of impurity the right to continue with their own seclusion and self-involvement.
The impurity in the world expects holiness that even while it nurtures and preserves its own uniqueness, it should still engage with those outside its circle. There needs to be an awareness that the “other” is also “me,” so even when I turn inward, I cannot ignore the “other.” When I ignore the “other,” I refute the claim that the “other” is eventually meant to find themselves and their rectification within me and my way. Still, though while we cannot necessarily deal with the “other” at the present moment—whether because we are preoccupied with ourselves, or perhaps even because it is the “other” that prevents us from having the luxury of doing so—holiness and morality might still have the duty of at least inwardly thinking of what the “other’s” true role might be in completing holiness.
So much for the first argument.
Holiness Should Take the Initiative
Avimelech's second argument was that Abraham should have informed him of the theft of the wells—meaning Abraham should have taken the initiative to engage Avimelech.
What this boils down to is that holiness should not always need to be completely self-contained, even in situations where the outside reality is opposed to it. There are instances when holiness can engage with the outside world, especially when there is a genuine issue. In such cases, engaging with the outside can eventually lead to objective realizations that allow for a more complete understanding and even translation of my interest in the “other” into the language the “other” can understand and relate to.
The stress in the second argument is not so much on one’s psychological leaning (to stay isolated), but rather on one’s ability to explain one’s conceptual scheme to others. The act of explanation requires a meeting to take place, for there is no essential difference between the translation into the other’s language and reality and the other himself. Whether explaining something to oneself or to others, it requires a certain level of objectivity, as if stepping outside of oneself to provide a more universal perspective.
Avimelech is demanding a thorough and articulate explanation from Abraham about his own perspective. You Abraham, he claims, should have engaged me in a deeper dialogue. You possess valuable insights that could have enriched me and drawn me towards you. Your hesitation to speak up, claims Avimelech, might have stemmed from the fear of revealing too much, a fear that the gap between the worldviews of holiness and its opposite are too vast to bridge, and that there might be no common language or understanding possible; but those fears were unfounded.
The Higher Self
Avimelech's third argument, “And I too did not hear,” uses the exalted word for “I” (אנכי), which signifies a profound sense of selfhood, or as one might say, “the higher self.” Avimelech’s claim is that Abraham’s higher self was not heard, and consequently, Avimelech’s higher self was not heard either. This is not about spoken words, which were the topic of the previous claim; this claim is about the melody of one’s words. Says Avimelech, “I did not hear your melody, your refined explanations and proclivities.” Although you spoke, it was not your deep and resonating truth. Perhaps you did not speak at all because an individual who derives pleasure from his higher self is compelled to share that pleasure with others and feels confident in overcoming obstacles. However, you seemed afraid to give of yourself.
To recap, the husks of impurity make the following claims and arguments:
- Despite being focused on yourself, you should have taken an interest in me, acknowledging me as part of yourself.
- Your engagement should have eventually led to willingness and the ability to extend yourself beyond your limited self, to communicate with me and explain to me.
- There's still something lacking at your core. Your melody is off key and your connection to that which is wondrous and lies beyond this world has yet to be fully integrated into your being.
(Rucho Shel Mashiach, pp. 130-139)
