ויבא הפליט — Then there came a refugee, ויגד — and told, אברהם העברי — Avram, the Ivri, the news of his nephew Lot being taken captive. Avram immediately sets out to save Lot and miraculously succeeds in defeating the alliance of Four Kings, restoring all the captured souls and possessions to their rightful rulers. (בראשית יד יג)

The Ramban reveals that embedded within this conflict is an allusion to the four exiles we will endure in the course of history, with an assurance that just as Avram overcame these enemies, so too will we be released from our exile to be returned to our rightful heritage in the Land of Israel.

The reference to Avram as 'The Ivri' is the one and only time it appears in context to Avram. Evidently this title must be relevant to this episode exclusively.

This title HaIvri, the Midrash explains has multiple intimations. It refers to the descendants of עבר — Ever, a prophet, who established a center of study and devotion to G-d, who dwelled in a region מעבר הנהר — on the 'far side' of the [Euphrates] river, which was headed by their illustrious ancestor Shem — Ever's great grandfather. (שם י כג ע"ש ברש"י וברמב"ן)

The notion of their dwelling 'on the far side of the river' also seems to allude to the inherited trait attributed to Avraham who defiantly stood מעבר אחד — 'on one side against the nations of the world who stood on the other side'.

We as a people are proudly called עברים — Ivrim, or its anglicized version 'Hebrews', due to this quality to stand up against the world in upholding our heritage.

The war 'refugee' who escaped and informed Avram was none other than עוג — Og the giant. (Rashi)

His being classified as הפליט — the refugee, also only appears this once and nowhere else.

He is not referred to as Og, the Midrash informs, because it was at this juncture that Avram first conferred this name of 'Og' upon him.

The Midrash records how Og arrived on the eve of Pesach as Avram was preparing to bake the עוגות מצות — 'round cakes' of Matzah. Some suggest Og was invited by Avram to partake in the cakes in Avram's his quest to draw others to G-d. He was thus forever called עוג alluding to his encounter with these special round cakes. (תפארת ציון)

It seems strange that due to his having eaten matzah on the eve of Pesach he would forever be branded by that association.

Og became the king of Bashan, a mighty opponent who we had to conquer — together with his giant brother Sichon, the king of Cheshbon — as a prerequisite to entering the Holy Land.

Clearly, the Torah is portraying for us a contrast between Avraham, the 'Ivri', and Og, the 'refugee', who in later history became an arch enemy of our nation who attempted to destroy us by threatening to toss a mountain upon the entire encampment, only to be defeated by Moshe.

Within this divide lies the essence of our ultimate survival against a world that seeks our eradication by following the attribute of Ivri and discarding the negative trait of הפליט — the refugee.

Why is the eternal symbol of freedom, Matzah, regarded here and elsewhere asעוגות מצות — round cakes of matzah?

In a famous episode recorded in the Talmud, חוני המעגל — Choni the Circle-Maker, was asked during a drought to pray for rain. His initial attempt to pray fell empty. He then implemented a mode of prayer utilized by the prophet Chabakuk, to עג עוגה — draw a circle in the dust around him, standing inside of it, stood inside it, and saying to G‑d: “Master of the Universe! Your children turned to me because I am like a member of Your household. I swear by Your great name that I’m not budging from here until You have compassion on Your children!” and vowed not to leave until rain fell. It began to pour, prompting requests for him to pray for the rain's cessation.

The great 16th century rabbinic figure, Rav Moshe of Trani, who served as Chief Rabbi in Tzefas for fifty-five years, popularly known as the Mabit explains this unusual method of prayer: “There is a very deep message hidden within the circle of Choni HaMe’ageil. The sages taught that the world is round. For this reason, a circle alludes to the natural world or the natural order of things. Choni made a circle around himself to show that if Hashem would not help His children by sending rain, this would imply that we are subject to the natural order of things, to the cycle of nature. This is a tremendous desecration of Hashem’s Name, because we are His chosen people who have been uplifted to higher things. This is why Choni said that he would only leave the circle when the rain came. It was his way of showing that we are actually above the circular cycle of nature when there are tzaddikim among us. When such lofty people are in our midst, all natural cosmological and astronomical influences are suspended for the Jewish people. This is the meaning of Hashem taking Avraham Avinu out of the stratosphere of the world to gaze at the stars. This was meant to show him that Hashem had raised him far above the influence of the stars and the order of nature. And it was this that would allow him to have children, because by nature, Avraham was physically unable to bear children. The Mabit concluded: “The verse says that Hashem took Avram outside, above the natural order of things, and said, ‘That is how your descendants will be.’ (Bereshis 15:5) When will your descendants merit to transcend the circular cycle of natural influence? When they are truly ‘your descendants’— when they are righteous like you!”

The Midrash tells us that Og survived the deluge by hanging onto the Ark of Noach. Rav Chaim Vital, the prized disciple of the Arizal states that what merited his 'escape' from the flood was the fact that in contrast to the rest of the world who descended into debauched immorality, Og had drawn a circle in the sand, declaring he would not 'waste seed' — a metaphor for preserving his morality, unlike his errant compatriots.

In his desire to display his conviction not to be vulnerable to the instincts we share with the natural world of beasts he defied these forces of nature in declaring or perhaps praying he would not succumb, until he achieved his objective.

Og, a mighty giant of a man who possessed unusual physical strength and dimensions clearly struggled mightily with those innate forces of nature.

Ultimately, he failed.

When escaping to inform Avram of his nephew's being taken captive we are taught he had an ulterior motive. He sought to lure the valiant Avram into the battle to save his kin, hoping Avram might die and in turn he would take his widowed beautiful wife Sarai.

Although upon entering the sanctuary of Avram he 'escaped' from his inner beast, experiencing a moment of inspiration permitting himself to be uplifted spiritually by the delicious 'round cakes' of freedom, he remained forever a פליט — a refugee. He could have fleeted clarity but could not unshackle himself from his negative behaviors and desires.

Avram is a true Ivri, always standing on the 'far side of the river', with the river a metaphor for the powerful forces of nature that seek to drown us in its distractions and temptation.

There are those of us that live within that circle of nature occasionally seeking refuge in a world of spirituality. But we choose to remain refugees, unwilling to become full citizens of the Torah and its world of exhilarating opportunity.

We must be like Choni who can stand amidst that circle and exclaim in defiance we will never succumb. Even as we stand in that circle, we retain our total consciousness that we are on the 'far side of the river'!

Take a side. Where do you stand?

We can no longer escape the question. Only if we shout out with every fiber of our body and existence: עברי אנכי! — "I am from the far side of the river!", will we be immune to its force, conquering this last galus, the barrier to our freedom, and return to our holy land, once and for all.

באהבה,

צבי יהודה טייכמאן