Shalom everyone! This week's parsha is parshas Lech Lecha a.k.a. my bar mitzvah parsha! That's right, nine years ago this this coming Saturday, Yours Truly became a Jewish man! There's a ton of great memories that I have of that day: reading the musaf and haftarah, getting soft candies thrown at me by about fifty people, partying it up like a fool, and counting all of my presents! There is, however, one thing that I wish I had done a little better and that is my dvar Torah. I guess you could say that this week's Torah blog is my second chance, so put yourself back in time nine years at Temple Sinai and let's go!
Have you ever known something to be so true or have seen the truth while others around you were oblivious? Was this truth so antithetical to those in the society around you that the weight of it seemed almost too much to bare? Was one of the responsibilties of this truth the nearly impossible task of showing and teaching those around you of the universality of it's philosophy? This was the challenge of Abram (his name was later changed to 'Abraham' by Hashem). Abram lived in a time when idolatrous practices were the norm, when the concept of a One G-d was absurd, and even more absurd was the fact that this G-d had no shape or form. Many righteous people before Abram's time had known about this G-d, yet none of them had the courage or creativity necessary to resist and oppose the corruption of the surrounding culture, the heal to rift that had formed between Heaven and Earth. What set Abram apart from all of them and what eventually merited him to be known as the patriarch of Judaism was the fact that he was not fazed by society's depravity; in fact, he was inspired by it. He became an activist for G-d, going from place to place, pointing out the illogical views of idolators and teaching them about the universal message that G-d had to offer them. There was only one flaw in Abram's approach: it was still based on his own personal convictions and reasonings as opposed to Divine ones. In order for Abram to merit such an approach, he would have to embark on a journey, one filled with hardship, struggles, failures, and tests that would push him beyond all psychological and spiritual boundaries. It is in this parsha that we see the beginning of this journey with the first verse: "Hashem said to Abram, 'Go for yourself from your land, from your birthplace and from your father's house to the land that I will show you.'" (Ber. 12:1)
Now, there seems to be a contradiction in this story: In last week's parsha, we read that Terach (Abram's father) had already began the journey with his family, so why does the Torah need to repeat this to Abram? If one looks a little closer at the verse from last week's parsha where this is mentioned, they will notice a slight difference in the wording: "Terach took his son Abram,...and they departed with them from Ur-kasdim to go to the land of Cana'an; they arrived at Charan and they settled there." (Ber. 11:31) Notice that the central character is Terach and not Abram. This implies that the journey from Ur-kasdim to Cana'an was begun by Abram's father, Terach, and in this week's verse, Abram is the central character, implying an entirely seperate journey from Terach's. What could this mean? Perhaps what we're witnessing in the text is a "passing of the mantle", that the Terach had done all he could have done as Abram's father and now it was time for Abram to become to father of the future Jewish people. Indeed, we see in the last verse of last week's parsha that Terach dies in Charan, leaving Abram alone to decide where to go; this is when Hashem came into the picture as the new father figure and guiding force in Abram's life.
What exactly was Hashem asking Abram to do by going on this journey? He was, in a sense, asking him to leave everything. The Ramban (Rabbi Moses ben Nachman, 12th-13th century rabbi, philosopher, physicist, Kabbalist, and Biblical commentator) gives a great expounding on this verse: "...it is difficult for a man to leave his land, in which he dwells, where his loved ones and friends are. All the more so when it is the land of his birthplace, where he was born. And (even) all the more so when his father's entire household is there. Therefore, it was necessary to tell him that he should leave everything for the love of the Holy One, Blessed is He." (Art Scroll Ramban Ber. pg. 289) What we learn here is really quite remarkable; this journey that Abram was making was not only a physical journey, but a spiritual one as well. In order for Abram to become the "vessel" for monotheism, he had to leave his entire life behind him; the corruptive culture which he had grown up in, a trend of idolatry that he knew all too well since we learn from a Midrash that Abram's father, Terach, was an idol maker. Abram had to become a blank slate with which he could rewrite a new story.
To elaborate on the spiritual aspect of this journey, there is a remarkable chasidic interpretation taken from the Lubavitcher Rebbe (Likutei Sichot, vol. 2, pg. 659). In hebrew, the first words "lech lecha" are commonly translated as "go for you". However, the "l" in "lecha" can mean either "for" or "to". If we switch out the "for", then it would be translated as "go to you." This implies a sense of looking inward, discovering yourself, returning to your inner core. The Rebbe goes on to further explain that "from your land" means to transcend your earthly desires, desires such as materialism, vanity, hedonism, etc. "from your birthplace" means that one can accomplish this by overcoming their natural habits and inclinations i.e. questioning one's motivation for indulging in physical pleasures, for self-centeredness, anger, and jealousy. "from your father's house" means that one can accomplish this by transcending their intellectual limitations i.e. recognizing that we are limited, finite beings and that there is something much greater than us (G-d). Once we've recognized the fleetingness and flaws of our intellect, then we can attach ourselves to the greater intellect of Hashem, His Torah, in which he placed His perfect will and universal message for the World.
There is one final issue to address in the verse and that is the ending "to the land that I will show you." Abram not only had to physically and spiritually leave everything that he once knew behind, but he also had to do it with a perfect and simple faith that Hashem would show him the way. Abram's simple and unquestioning faith in Hashem is brought out in qualitatively and quantitatively greater amounts with each test Hashem gives him; it is one of the main weapons of defense against failure in his mission and journey. So to wrap up this week's blog, what can we learn from the plight of Abram and from this verse specifically? Change is never easy; we often get caught up in our "surroundings", where we've come from in life, where we are at in our journey. If one doesn't realize that they have legs as opposed to roots holding them down to the land, then they will never grow and move onto the life that they are meant to live. Petty problems such as anxiety, worries, and fears carried over from the past and into the future are like the different layers in the verse: not only was it Abram's land, but his birthplace, and also his father's house. All it took was for Hashem to tell Abram to take that first step and Abram embarked on the most important journey in the history of the world. Same thing is true with us; if we follow our calling and "go into ourselves", look deep within to the core of our essence, we can draw out the strength needed to break through our artifical boundaried, to take that first step from point A to point B. At point A, we can never imagine leaving, yet once we've reached point B, we can look back and laugh at all of the worries that we ourselves set up! Not only that, when you turn around from looking back at point A and look forward to where point C is, then you will know that you can continue on in your journey since you've already broken through the boundary of the first step. I wish you all an inspiring Shabbos and a fantastic journey.
With all my love,
Zach
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