Parashat Lech Lecha: Learning from Avraham to Handle Disputes - How Can a Necessary Separation Help Preserve Our Relationships?

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Parashat Lech Lecha: Learning from Avraham to Handle Disputes 
How Can a Necessary Separation Help Preserve Our Relationships?

What Helps Us Learn to Accept Painful Separations?

I have experienced several necessary separations from loved ones, some more painful than others. The hardest was stepping back from a close family member with whom I had shared a beautiful relationship for decades. Over time, that person grew distant and began making unintentionally hurtful remarks about me, each one deepening my wound. Aware of my vulnerability, I realized that although temporarily ending contact would be painful, remaining in a distant and unfulfilling relationship with someone I had once been so close to was even more painful. So, we took a break. I have now worked for years toward reconciliation, and our relationship is gradually improving. I learned to release expectations that close relationships will always remain unchanged. As people move through different stages of life, their needs – and the relationships they seek – also change. I have come to accept that someone I once helped may no longer need my support or friendship in the same way.

The same applies to students: even some of our most enthusiastic students who grew so much in our program under my leadership and through my guidance may at a certain point have received what they need from the midrasha at this stage of their learning. Sometimes they recognize this themselves and decide to move on; at other times, we gently help them recognize that their next step may lie elsewhere. Both situations can be painful, but nevertheless necessary, for the benefit of all involved.   

For decades, a core of beloved staff members brought stability to Midreshet B’erot Bat Ayin. Yet, for some reason, since Corona, staff have come and gone, and I have found myself constantly burdened by the task of training new staff. Yet I do not regret having hired them. I know that Hashem guided me to each staff member, and even if the working relationship didn’t last long, I learned valuable lessons from each of them. I trust that there is a deeper reason why, after having trained a member of my team to finally work totally independently, she would leave for reasons that had nothing to do with the midrasha. If nothing else, at least I have become much more adept at staff training and, perhaps even more important, I have learned patience and gentleness. Who knows, this could be a rectification needed for my prior soul incarnations.  

 

Why Do People Who Love Each Other Sometimes Struggle to Live Together?

Some of our most painful relationship struggles arise with people we have loved and supported for years. We remember our shared journey and wonder what went wrong and how we grew apart. Avraham and his nephew Lot had traveled together from Charan to the Land of Israel, descended to Egypt, and returned. Yet, after their return, the Torah tells us twice in one verse that they could no longer dwell together:

ספר בראשית פרק יג פסוק ו וְלֹא נָשָׂא אֹתָם הָאָרֶץ לָשֶׁבֶת יַחְדָּו כִּי הָיָה רְכוּשָׁם רָב וְלֹא יָכְלוּ לָשֶׁבֶת יַחְדָּו:

“The land could not support them dwelling together, for their possessions were great, and they could not dwell together” (Bereishit 13:6).

 

Why does the verse repeat their inability to live together? The Netziv explains that the difficulty went beyond insufficient pasture. Their natures had grown apart. Lot could maintain a relationship with Avraham from a distance, but their constant proximity had become burdensome. Their extensive possessions brought their households into repeated contact, exposing the differences between them (Ha’amek Davar, Bereishit 13:6). Sometimes we cling to a particular arrangement because we believe that changing it would mean failing the relationship. Yet sharing a home, workplace, or daily routine may place more strain on a relationship than it can bear. Avraham’s experience invites us to consider whether a change in how we relate could help protect the love that remains.

We can glean another layer within their separation from the inner dimension of Torah. Rabbi Yekutiel Zalman Ze’ev Fish reveals in the name of the Arizal that holy souls were concealed within Lot, including Ruth and Na’amah the Ammonite, from whom King David and the continuation of his royal line would emerge. David descended from Ruth; Na’amah became an ancestress of the continuing Davidic dynasty through her marriage to King Solomon.

These souls contained within them further generations of souls and sparks, extending far into the future. Avraham and Lot had begun a process of extracting these sparks during their descent to Egypt. Their subsequent separation formed part of the continuing clarification: Lot’s journey toward Sodom would become the setting from which the souls of David and Mashiach would eventually emerge (Sha’ar HaPesukim, Parashat Lech Lecha, cited and elaborated upon in Sod HaChashmal, Part I, Parashat Miketz, Meraglim Atem – Birur HaNitzotzot B’Mitzrayim).

This hidden process does not make Lot’s choices righteous, but neither did Lot’s spiritual failings erase the holiness concealed within him. Hashem’s purpose can continue unfolding even through human failure and painful separation. Avraham could no longer share his daily life with Lot, yet the latent holiness within his nephew still had a future.

Perhaps this can help us approach our own difficult relationships with greater humility. We may recognize that we cannot continue living or working closely with someone, while acknowledging that we do not see the full purpose of their journey. Creating distance need not mean dismissing the good within them. Sometimes we must release the form a relationship once took and leave room for Hashem to bring forth blessings we cannot yet imagine.

 

How Can We Keep a Disagreement from Becoming a Family Rift?

The dispute began between Avraham’s shepherds and Lot’s shepherds, who allowed their animals to graze in other people’s fields. When Avram’s shepherds rebuked them for this act of robbery, they replied, “The land has been given to Avram, and since he has no son as heir, Lot will be his heir; consequently, this is not robbery.” Scripture, however, states: “The Canaanite and the Perizzite abode then in the land,” so that Avram was not yet entitled to possession (Rashi, Bereishit 13:7).  

Avraham could not preserve harmony by accepting such behavior. Still, he addressed Lot with gentleness:

ספר בראשית פרק יג פסוק ח

וַיֹּאמֶר אַבְרָם אֶל לוֹט אַל נָא תְהִי מְרִיבָה בֵּינִי וּבֵינֶךָ וּבֵין רֹעַי וּבֵין רֹעֶיךָ כִּי אֲנָשִׁים אַחִים אֲנָחְנוּ:

“Please let there be no strife between me and you, or between my shepherds and your shepherds, for we are brothers” (Bereishit 13:8).

Although it was only their shepherds who were quarreling, Avraham foresaw how their dispute could eventually spread to the two of them (Ohr HaChayim, Bereishit 13:8). “The beginning of strife is like letting out water” (Mishlei 17:14). Once water breaks through a barrier, the opening can widen as more water rushes through. Likewise, an unchecked quarrel can grow beyond its original cause and draw others into the conflict (Ha’amek Davar, Bereishit 13:8).

Rabbi Moshe Alshich discerns this danger of escalation in the Torah’s shift fromרִיב/riv – quarrel – to מְרִיבָה/merivah – strife. He interprets the feminine form, merivah, as a quarrel that “gives birth” to further quarrels. What began between a few shepherds could spread throughout both households and eventually divide Avraham and Lot themselves. Avraham therefore pleaded that the existing riv should not become a merivah, multiplying beyond its original bounds (Torat Moshe, Bereishit 13:7–8). His words teach us to address discord while it is still small, before one hurt gives birth to many more. Quarreling is like a poisonous growth: Nip it in the bud!

Rav Tzvi Elimelech of Dinov uncovers a deeper meaning within the word מְרִיבָה/merivah – “strife.” The names לוֹט/Lot and אָדָם/Adam both have the numerical value of 45. The name אָדָם/Adam also forms an acronym for אָדָם/Adam, וִדדָּ/David, and שִׁיחַמָ/Mashiach. Concealed within Lot was the spark of Mashiach ben David, still awaiting its emergence from spiritual concealment.

The word מְרִיבָה contains the letters רִיב/riv – quarrel – within the letters מ and ה, which together also equal 45. Avraham’s plea thus carries a hidden prayer: do not allow the quarrel to enter the inner holiness represented by Adam, the potential for David and Mashiach concealed within Lot (Agra D’Kala, p. 92b).

Avraham recognized the holy potential within Lot even amid their conflict. As he addressed the wrongdoing, he sought to protect that hidden holiness within his nephew. This offers us a deeper reason to keep disagreements from consuming our relationships. When hurt takes over, we may begin to see another person entirely through the conflict, forgetting the good we once recognized in them. We can address what is wrong while guarding our awareness of their deeper worth. Avraham acted while they could still speak to each other as brothers. We, too, can strive to resolve a disagreement before it obscures everything else we know about one another.

 

Can We Create Distance Without Giving Up on a Brother or Sister?

Avraham’s request to separate follows immediately after his affirmation of brotherhood. He wanted to prevent further conflict while preserving his care for Lot:

ספר בראשית פרק יג פסוק ט הֲלֹא כָל הָאָרֶץ לְפָנֶיךָ הִפָּרֶד נָא מֵעָלָי אִם הַשְּׂמֹאל וְאֵימִנָה וְאִם הַיָּמִין וְאַשְׂמְאִילָה:

“Is not the whole land before you? Please separate from me. If you go left, I will go right; if you go right, I will go left” (Bereishit 13:9).

The Netziv notices the kindness within this offer. Avraham did not place the entire burden of moving on Lot. He not only offered to share the inconvenience but also allowed Lot to choose first (Ha’amek Davar, Bereishit 13:9). Rashi reveals a further reassurance within his words: wherever Lot settled, Avraham would remain by his side, ready to protect and help him (Rashi, Bereishit 13:9). Even in separation, Avraham took care to preserve Lot’s dignity and reassure him of his continued support.

Distance was nevertheless necessary for Avraham’s spiritual life. After Lot’s departure, Hashem spoke to him, inviting him to lift his eyes and see the Land, since Lot’s presence had prevented this Divine communication (Rashi, Bereishit 13:14). Avraham needed the freedom to fulfill his calling, yet when Lot was taken captive, he made great efforts to rescue him.  Although Lot had withdrawn from their brotherhood, Avraham still treated him as a brother when he needed saving (Be’er Mayim Chayim, Bereishit 13:10–13).

Even after Lot chose the company of the wicked, Avraham risked his life to save him. Such love can awaken goodness in another person. Later, in Sodom, Lot risked his own safety to welcome and protect his guests. Avraham’s willingness to come to his aid inspired Lot to also extend himself for others. This teaches us never to give up on our brother or sister (Reb Shlomo Carlebach, teaching on Avraham and Lot).

We cannot force someone to remain close to us or choose the path we hope they will follow. We can, however, strive to preserve our faith in the holiness within them. Sometimes we need distance to serve Hashem with clarity, while leaving our hearts open to whatever kindness we can offer.

Avraham’s example gives us hope that love expressed at the right moment can inspire goodness where years of guidance could not. Despite the separation – and perhaps even because of it – we may find ourselves no less connected in spirit, able to help our brother or sister in ways that were not possible when we were closer. We may never see how far that kindness travels, but it can awaken another act of kindness, allowing the goodness we shared to continue growing beyond our time together.