Setting: Genesis 12:1-5
Extra-Biblical Sources:
Bereishit Rabbah 39:1
Commentary from Vilna edition of Midrash Rabbah
Bereishit Rabbah 39:2
One evening Abram and I were walking along the Julab in the evening. We spoke of life in Ur and life in Haran; of friends and acquaintances. As the sun touched the horizon and began to set below it, we climbed up onto a large rock and sat in silence. I could see that Abram's gaze was fixated upon the sunset, glowing red at the close of day. I judged it best to remain quiet in the peacefulness of the moment. Abram looked at me and I saw that tears were forming in his eyes. He looked back to the setting sun and said aloud “El, your birah is still burning. Will men not say that you have abandoned us?” He rose, and looking back at me he said “Go home my princess, there is a friend I must meet,” and he walked off into the desert as darkness fell across the land. I sat there on the rock for a while longer, until the gods began to appear one by one in the sky, and then I walked home. Abram later told me that on that night Adonai, who is El Elyon, came to him with the command to leave the house of Terah and the land between the rivers, and continue journeying west, to a place that Adonai would show him. Who could dream of leaving the great household of Terah, much less when the old man was still living? And who would honestly choose to sojourn in the desert when well established in a successful town? Abram. He is a man of higher ideals than anyone I know, and these ideals lead him to do what no one else would do. Not many days later we set out; a company of nearly one hundred persons, mostly slaves, cheif among them being the families of Eliezer and Urhammu, to whom Kalumtum was married. Lot was with us also, and he walked at Abram’s side. Of course, childless as we are, our house will pass on to Lot when Abram dies. What for Abram is an act of great faith, to leave his father’s house and sojourn in the wilderness, requires of Lot an act of desperation, to follow his inheritance into that desert if he ever hopes to receive it. There was laughing and there was crying as we departed from Haran. And while it was clear that Terah and Amathlai would live and die in the service of Nanna, it was also clear that they essentially approved of Abram’s journey to the land of El Elyon. Amathlai stood at Terah’s side and declared a blessing on her son: “Abram. To what shall I compare you? To a flask of balsam-tree juice, closed with a tight lid, placed in a corner so that its fragrance is not emitted. But when it is moved, its fragrance is emitted. My son, move yourself from place to place and your name will become great in the world.” At times it seems there is no more effective way to broaden the mind of a parent than for their child to stubbornly persist in what they once considered heretical. It is hard to accept change, but I imagine it is often even harder to condemn one’s child. We set out at a leisurely pace, for Abram was mindful of the littlest and the eldest among us. At Charchemish, where the hills begin to rise above the flatlands, we gathered supplies and conversed with the locals. We even dined with king Aplahanda, who had heard convoluted stories of Abram’s skirmish with Nimrod, and was pleased to meet the living legend who had defied Nusku’s fire. Aplahanda was particularly devoted to Marduk. Abram suggested frankly that Marduk was the son of Enki, and that a son is not greater than his father, whereas in truth El is antecedent to both. At this Aplahanda was all too ready to send us on our way south along the trade routes to Damascus and beyond. Next we came to Halba, with its temple to the storm god Hadad. The inhabitants were mostly Amorites, and were peaceable to us. Not far outside of Halba lie Ebla, which we found to be a hectic city of various temples and palaces, dedicated mostly to semitic gods, though some to Mesopotamian gods as well. The city was so academic and so conversational in nature that in our short time there Abram was interviewed by a number of leading scribes, who documented his news from the East on clay tablets for their archives. I am not sure if even in Mari they have such a carefully composed library. From there we continued south to Hamath. We would have avoided the city altogether, but the Hittite scouts of that region intercepted us on the road and insisted that we turn aside for questioning. They iterrogated us roughly about our business, but when they were convinced that our reasons for travel were religious, they seemed to lose interest and allowed us to pass on, on the condition that by all means we avoid settling on land claimed by the Hittites. Abram had told me from the start of our journey that Adonai would be the one to direct our steps. I asked Abram more than once as the days passed whether there had been a new word from Adonai about where we were to settle. Abram told me that we must go to the land of Canaan, and beyond that he knew nothing. After leaving Hamath we spent several days crossing the desert until finally we came to Damascus. I had never seen Eliezer dance with joy as he danced when we saw the Canaanite city. I confess, I danced with Kalumtum also, clasping her hands in mine, for we were finally coming home, to the land to which El had called us.