. תָּנוּ רַבָּנַן: סוּכָּה גְּזוּלָה, וְהַמְסַכֵּךְ בִּרְשׁוּת הָרַבִּים — רַבִּי אֱלִיעֶזֶר פּוֹסֵל, וַחֲכָמִים מַכְשִׁירִין.....
הָהִיא סָבְתָּא דַּאֲתַאי לְקַמֵּיהּ דְּרַב נַחְמָן, אֲמַרָה לֵיהּ: רֵישׁ גָּלוּתָא וְכוּלְּהוּ רַבָּנַן דְּבֵי רֵישׁ גָּלוּתָא בְּסוּכָּה גְּזוּלָה הֲווֹ יָתְבִי. צָוְוחָה וְלָא אַשְׁגַּח בָּהּ רַב נַחְמָן. אֲמַרָה לֵיהּ: אִיתְּתָא דַּהֲוָה לֵיהּ לַאֲבוּהָא תְּלָת מְאָה וְתַמְנֵי סְרֵי עַבְדֵי צָוְוחָא קַמַּיְיכוּ וְלָא אַשְׁגְּחִיתוּ בַּהּ?! אֲמַר לְהוּ רַב נַחְמָן: פָּעִיתָא הִיא דָּא, וְאֵין לָהּ אֶלָּא דְּמֵי עֵצִים בִּלְבַד.
The Sages taught: With regard to a stolen sukka and with regard to one who roofs a sukka in the public domain, which is tantamount to robbing land from the public, Rabbi Eliezer deems these sukkot unfit for use in fulfillment of the mitzva, and the Rabbis deem them fit. ....
The Gemara relates: There was a certain old woman who came before Rav Naḥman. She said to him: The Exilarch and all the Sages in his house have been sitting in a stolen sukka. She claimed that the Exilarch’s servants stole her wood and used it to build the sukka. She screamed, but Rav Naḥman did not pay attention to her. She said to him: A woman whose father, Abraham, our forefather, had three hundred and eighteen slaves screams before you, and you do not pay attention to her? She claimed that she should be treated with deference due to her lineage as a Jew. Rav Naḥman said to the Sages: This woman is a screamer, and she has rights only to the monetary value of the wood. However, the sukka itself was already acquired by the Exilarch.
Lekh Lekha; A Palace in Flames - I Believe; A Weekly Reading of the Jewish Bible, by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks
Why Abraham? That is the question that haunts us when we read the opening of this parasha. Here is the key figure in the story of our faith, the father of our nation, the hero of monotheism, held holy not only by Jews but by Christians and Muslims also. Yet there seems to be nothing in the Torah’s description of his early life to give us a hint as to why he was singled out to be the person to whom God said, “I will make you into a great nation…and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you.”
“The Lord said to Abram: Leave your land, your birthplace, and your father’s house…” To what may this be compared? To a man who was travelling from place to place when he saw a palace in flames. He wondered, “Is it possible that the palace lacks an owner?” The owner of the palace looked out and said, “I am the owner of the palace.” So Abraham our father said, “Is it possible that the world lacks a ruler?” The Holy One, blessed be He, looked out and said to him, “I am the ruler, the Sovereign of the universe.”
This is an enigmatic midrash. It is far from obvious what it means. In my book A Letter in the Scroll (published in Britain as Radical Then, Radical Now) I argued that Abraham was struck by the contradiction between the order of the universe – the palace – and the disorder of humanity – the flames. How, in a world created by a good God, could there be so much evil? If someone takes the trouble to build a palace, do they leave it to the flames? If someone takes the trouble to create a universe, does He leave it to be disfigured by His own creations? On this reading, what moved Abraham was not philosophical harmony but moral discord. For Abraham, faith began in cognitive dissonance. There is only one way of resolving this dissonance: by protesting evil and fighting it.
"Narrating the Law" by Barry Wimpfheimer, pg. 2
