Two Questions—Many Answers: Making Strangers Neighbors

Abstract

Two Questions—Many Answers: Making Strangers Neighbors David Kader “Where are you?” “Where is your brother?” These two questions posed by God in the first book of the Hebrew Bible, first to Adam (Gen. 3:9) and then to Cain (Gen. 4:9), are the beginning and the end of the moral conundrums faced by humanity from the beginning of time. They ask about each individual's relationship with the Ineffable and with other humans—and by extension with all creation. Each person authors the story of their lives by the behavioral response given, knowing or unknowing, to precisely these two questions. These questions reveal the fundamental truth of human existence: a reality of moral freedom, of choice. Where is one in relation to the Creator? Where is one in relation to Creation? Adam responded by saying: “I heard the sound of You in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked, and so I hid” (Gen. 3:10). Adam's nakedness is understood in Jewish commentary on this text as “religious” nakedness and so hid in his shame—of standing exposed before the Creator of life and death. Adam had eaten from the Tree of Knowledge and so chose to choose. Cain responded by saying: “I do not know. Am I my brother's keeper?” (Gen. 4:9). In so doing, Cain rejected human responsibility and hid from the burden of moral freedom. In the Garden, the question/answer was life and death, and likewise, post‐Eden, the question/answer was life and death. Hiding was the response of both Adam and Cain. As Adam's choice sets the remaining biblical narrative of free will, likewise Cain's underscores consequences far beyond his murder of his brother Abel. “Your brother's blood cries out to Me from the ground” (Gen. 4:10). Jewish commentary underscores that the word “blood” is in the plural in the Hebrew, to mean the death of Abel also “kills” the possibility of all potential descendants of Abel. From this understanding comes the Talmudic teaching: “Whoever destroys a single life, it is considered as if he destroyed an entire world. And whoever saves a life, it is as if he saved an entire world” (Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 37a). These two questions in the beginning of Torah echo throughout the Hebrew Bible. Two primary examples can suffice here: of the first Hebrew and the first Israelite. The first response of acknowledgment, of not hiding, is by Abraham, the first Hebrew. In the Akedah, the binding of Isaac, as Abraham is about to sacrifice his bound son, the text reads: “And the angel of the Lord called out to him, saying: ‘Abraham! Abraham!’ And he said: ‘Here I am’” (Gen. 22:11); in turn, Isaac's life is spared. Being in relation, being not in hiding, spared life. The second example is the episode of Jacob becoming Israel. In anticipation of a meeting with his estranged twin brother Esau who is coming to the meeting with a mighty force of four hundred (Gen. 32:7), Jacob has a fitful night's sleep until the breaking of the day. The narrative tells of a night in which Jacob “wrestled with a man” (his conscience, for having “stolen” Esau's birthright?) without resolution (Gen. 32:25). The impasse is resolved by Jacob asking to be released and was in turn asked: “What is your name?” To which he said: “Jacob.” In turn, Jacob was told: “Your name shall no more be called Jacob, but Israel, for though has wrestled with God and with men, and hast prevailed” (Gen. 32:27‐29). In this singular episode, Jacob responded to both questions by engaging both God and man. The result was more than an eternal name change for all his descendants: When encountering his brother, Esau, peace came between them, not war. The text reads: “[Jacob] came near to his brother. And Esau ran to meet him, and embraced him, and fell on his neck, and kissed him, and they wept” (Gen. 33:3‐4). Esau saw Jacob was a changed person, was now Israel; and Jacob “saw [Esau's] face as one sees the face of God” (Gen...