I try to focus these weekly columns upon individuals who are barely mentioned in the weekly Torah portion. They often have an important, but insufficiently appreciated, role to play.

Thus, for example, last week I chose Nimrod as my person in the parsha. He was a “strong” man in many ways, knowing the Almighty while defying Him. He was autocratic, violent, arrogant, perhaps the first true demagogue on record.

But that was last week’s parsha, Noach. His name no longer appears in the Chumash. While he is certainly absent in this week’s parsha, Lech Lecha, I will attempt to demonstrate how he still plays a role in this week’s Torah episode.

I will also attempt to demonstrate that Avram, later renamed Avraham, albeit surely the dominant figure in this week’s parsha, is to some extent “missing” therein.

We already know quite a bit about Avram having read last week’s Parshat Noach. There we “met” his father Terach, his brothers Nachor and Haran, and his nephew—Haran’s son—Lot. We also learn of Haran’s premature demise, although we remain curiously ignorant of the circumstances of his death. We are told about the family’s origins in a place called Ur Kasdim, the “fiery furnace of the Chaldeans.” We are introduced to Avram’s wife, Sarei, and are alerted to her infertility issues.

We then are informed of the plan, seemingly instigated by Terach, to embark upon a fateful journey, leaving Ur Kasdim to reach Canaan, but settling instead in a place called Charan. There, Terach, at age two hundred and fifty, dies.

It is then, in the opening words of this week’s Torah portion, that the Lord Himself enters center stage and commands Avram to leave all the above behind except for his wife Sarei and nephew Lot and head for “the land which I will show you,” which we soon learn is Canaan. Avram is then a seventy-five-year-old!

What is “missing?” It is my graduate school education in the field of developmental psychology that prompts me to ask this question. Missing are the many intervening years between the young Avram, subordinate to his father’s travel plans and struggling sympathetically with his young wife’s infertility, and his first direct encounter, nay conversation, with the Master of the Universe.

Missing are the reasons for his family’s flight from Ur Kasdim, the circumstances of Haran’s death, the significance of Terach’s intention to move the family to Canaan, but especially the role of Avram in all this drama.

Most glaringly, what is missing is even the slightest account of Avram’s religious development. There is no mention of any relationship whatsoever with the One Above until the Lord’s command that he leave behind his land, his birthplace, and his father’s domicile.

A critically important segment of Avram’s youth, formative years, and maturation is missing. This gap is troublesome, and it is left to our Sages to fill in the “missing link,” to tell us the “rest of the story.”

And in the process, to expound upon the nature of the conflict between good and evil, in our case between Avram and, yes, Nimrod!

Here, in my free translation from the Aramaic, is the gist of the passage in Bereshit Rabbah 38:19 which addresses some of these questions:

Rabbi Chiya, the son of Rabbi Ada of Jaffa related: Terach was an idolater and dealt in the sale of idols. One day, he left the store in charge of his son Avram in his stead.

Along came a customer eager to purchase an idol. Avram asked him, “How old are you?” To which the customer responded, “Almost sixty!” Avram retorted, “A man almost sixty wishes to worship a day-old idol?!” The customer was ashamed and quickly departed.

Along came another customer, a woman this time. She brought with her a tray filled to the brim with fine flour. She asked Avram to distribute the flour as an offering to one of the idols on her behalf. She departed.

Avram then grasped a sledgehammer and smashed all the idols except for the largest one to smithereens. He then placed the hammer in the hands of the intact largest idol.

Father Terach then returned and exclaimed to Avram, “What is all this wreckage?” To which Avram responded, “You see, dear father, this woman came into the shop with a flour offering for the idols. Immediately each idol protested and demanded the entire offering for itself. So, the largest idol grasped the hammer it is now holding and smashed all the others to bits.”

Terach was incredulous. “Stop mocking me, Avram,” he retorted. “You darn well know that these idols are dumb, deaf, and powerless!” To which Avram retorted, “May your ears take note of what your mouth just admitted!”

Terach then surrendered Avram to … NIMROD!

The Midrash continues to report upon the great theological debate between Nimrod and Avram, during which the former tries to convince the latter to accept his idol, namely a fiery furnace. Avram naturally refuses and is thrown into the furnace. His brother Haran, standing by, is conflicted and hedges his bets. He says to himself, “If Avram is consumed by the flames, I’ll side with Nimrod. If Avram emerges unscathed by the flames, I’ll side with Avram.”

Avram emerges unharmed by the fire. Nimrod then orders Haran to worship the furnace or be tossed into it. Haran, siding now with Avram, refuses and is immediately cast into the furnace but is denied the divine miracle that saved Avram and dies in the fire.

That is the gist of the Midrashic passage, a story which many of us, including myself, first heard from our kindergarten teachers. It took me until the fourth grade, as I recall, before it occurred to me to ask my teacher why such an important narrative, which explains so much about Avram’s personal growth, faith, and courage, is omitted from the biblical text—a question for which I’ve yet to find a satisfactory answer, and challenge you, dear reader, to ask yourselves.

We do take away from this Midrash a number of important conclusions about the development of religious belief and about good versus evil.

We learn that Avram came to the idea of monotheism on his own, in part through careful observation of the folly of idolatry. It is because of his self-initiated search for truth that he drew close enough to the Almighty to gain access to His favor and direction.

We learn again about the extremes of which tyrants are capable, which include the annihilation of those of their constituents who do not comply with their idolatrous demands.

We learn of the futility, exemplified by Haran, of an ambivalent wishy-washy faith commitment, of betting on the “winner” in the contest between belief systems.

As always, we have only just begun our search for the full story of the Nimrods of the world and of our forefather’s “missing years” and ultimate transition from Avram to Avraham, the “father of many nations.”

Stay tuned, and with the Lord’s help we will encounter a fully grown Avraham and a different kind of enemy, in next week’s torah portion, Vayera.