Not a tourist or a refugee: Lech Lecha 5785

We are fortunate to have not one but two divrei Torah from Rabbi Wein for this week. This devar Torah was circulated with the Hanassi Highlights, but the one below ("From the Universal to the Special") is the devar Torah that was originally prepared. Please enjoy them both!

The first two words of the second verse of this week’s Torah reading have received much attention and a great deal of comment. This is because the second of those two words—lecha (“for you”)—appears to be redundant. Rashi therefore interprets it as meaning “for your benefit and for your own good.” On the basis of this interpretation the Lord instructs Abraham to leave his homeland and family in Mesopotamia in order to achieve the greatness that is inherent within him, as the forebear of nations and the founder of the Jewish people.

An alternative interpretation of lecha has always fascinated me. Travel can be an enjoyable experience that also broadens the mind. A worldwide travel industry continues to burgeon as people increasingly crave visits to unseen shores and exotic locations. If travel is such a pleasant pastime, why should we consider Abraham and Sarah’s journey from Mesopotamia to Canaan as a challenge and a test of Abraham’s faith in the Almighty? The answer lies in the fact that lecha implies permanence. Reading between the lines, the message to Abraham is this: “Never again will you return home to Mesopotamia. You are not a visitor, a tourist or a traveler. When you depart you will do so as a stateless refugee and an alien”. Unlike Rashi’s interpretation of lecha, this second explanation has an ominous ring to it. Abraham and Sarah were about to face a truly challenging journey. They were not going on vacation.

Abraham’s descendants, the Jewish people, have shared this test and faced the same challenge throughout our long history. We have experienced insecurity and impermanence during the long night of our exile and dispersal. Even countries where Jews resided for centuries, such as Spain, Germany and Poland, eventually ceased to accommodate our presence. Even when we played a positive part in the culture of the nations that hosted us, we were “in” but remained the odd men out. How did we survive these enormous trials? Because we always believed and knew that eventually we would be going home. We prayed for it to happen and we struggled against all odds and enemies to make it happen. And, in our time, it did.

This belief in our return to Zion and Jerusalem sustained us in our darkest hours. It transferred us in our own minds—though not in the minds of others— from the status of tolerated but unwanted aliens into visitors and sojourners who actually have a legitimate and permanent home elsewhere. This is the feeling I have every time I travel abroad and present my Israeli passport for inspection. I am no longer a pariah or a refugee but a visitor, a tourist, perhaps even an honored guest. The children of Abraham have returned home.

Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

From the universal to the special: Lech Lecha 5785

In this parsha the Torah’s narrative now proceeds from the general, universal story of humanity to concentrate on the specific narrative of the founding of the Jewish people. From this and next week’s parshiyot we learn of Avraham and Sarah, their difficulties and challenges, their loneliness and their spiritual quest. Their biographies show how they create the prototype for all later Jewish and familial society.

The Torah, unlike many contemporary hagiographies, avoids painting a blissful picture of righteous people who are forever blessed with serenity, immaculate character and perfect behavior. Rather, it shows us the ever-present challenges to faith in the Almighty: the difficulties of maintaining domestic harmony and of creating a positive worldview while surrounded by enemies, jealousy and an immoral public culture.

Tradition and the Mishna crown Avraham with the laurel of having withstood and overcome ten major challenges in his lifetime. Remarkably, the great Jewish commentators to the Torah differ as to which ten challenges the Mishna is referring to. Indeed, if we combine all of their opinions, there are a significantly greater number of challenges in the life of Avraham than just ten. The Torah’s portrayal of these events – the wandering and rootlessness of coming to the promised land of Israel, the disloyalty of Lot, domestic difficulties with Sarah and Hagar, the behavior of Pharaoh and his courtiers, to mention only a few – reveals a life of struggle, of pain, of striving and of hurdles still to overcome. 

In spite of all the very troubling details and incidents that the parsha records, there is a tone of optimism and fulfilled purpose that permeates the entire parsha.  Even the cursory reader senses that Avraham and Sarah are up to something great and that this is no ordinary tale of pioneering and struggle. There are Godly covenants and blessings, commitments made that surely will be met. We also learn of visions of a great and influential people, and of a holy land.

God’s relationship with humankind generally will be centered in His relationship with the family of Avraham, Sarah and their progeny. Nations and beliefs will vie for the honor of being the descendants and followers of Avraham. Millions will adopt his name and follow his monotheistic creed. He and Sarah will be some of the most influential personages in world history. They will not avoid trouble and travail in their personal and family lives; great will be their reward in spiritual and historical achievement. As such, they truly are the forerunners of the story of the Jewish people – a small and lonely people, wanderers and beset by inner disloyalty and external persecution while remaining optimistic and vastly influential in a manner that belies its physical numbers and temporal power.

So Avraham is the father of many nations and of all monotheistic believers. But he is special to us because he is the founder and father of the Jewish people whose march through human history parallels his own. The Godly covenant and blessings will assuredly be fulfilled through the accomplishments of the Jewish people, its nationhood and land.

Shabat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein

Lech lecha: Are we listening?

Here's another thought-provoking piece by our member Rabbi Paul Bloom, on why this parasha is such a powerful call to make aliyah.

The central theme of this week’s Torah portion, Lech Lecha, is the command for Avraham to leave his homeland and journey to Eretz Yisrael, the land that Hashem promised to show him. The words "לךְ־לְךָ מֵאַרְצְךָ וּמִמּוֹלַדְתְּךָ וּמִבֵּית אָבִיךָ אֶל הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אַרְאֶךָ" (Go forth from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father’s house, to the land that I will show you) are the very first mitzvah ever given to a Jew. Rav Meir Yechiel of Ostrovtza points out that Hashem could have begun Judaism with any number of commands. Yet the first message to Avraham, the first Jew, was to leave his familiar surroundings and settle in the special land that Hashem chose.

Why did Hashem choose this as the foundational mitzvah? R. Yehudah HaLevi, in Sefer HaKuzari, explains that Avraham, already the most righteous person of his generation, had reached a spiritual level where he was ready to connect with the Divine in an even deeper way. Eretz Yisrael, the land uniquely suited for spiritual perfection, was the only place where Avraham could reach his full potential. Even though Avraham had already attained a high level of closeness to God outside of Eretz Yisrael, Hashem knew that only in the Land could he fully realize his destiny.

Avraham’s life in Chutz La’Aretz was not lacking in purpose. He was discovering Hashem, fighting against idolatry, teaching monotheism, and performing acts of kindness—just as many Jews in the diaspora today raise families, run businesses, study Torah, and lead communities. However, Hashem told Avraham, “All this is good, but you are doing it in the wrong place. In My special land, you will achieve so much more.” The message of Lech Lecha is that Hashem’s call to live in Eretz Yisrael is timeless.

For years, people delayed making aliyah due to material concerns. Today, with a comfortable life possible in Israel, the real barrier is often spiritual complacency. Many feel they have everything they need in Chutz La’Aretz: thriving communities, Torah learning, chesed organizations, kosher restaurants, and yeshivas. But Lech Lecha teaches us that while it’s possible to reach spiritual heights in Chutz La’Aretz, even greater achievements await in Hashem’s chosen land.

October 7th served as a wake-up call, prompting many Jews to consider aliyah more seriously than ever. It’s not an easy decision. Uprooting from the familiar, selling a home, leaving family and friends, and adjusting to a new life can be daunting. Yet the blessings Hashem promises to those who move to Eretz Yisrael, as outlined in this parsha, speak to our time as well: “I will make you into a great nation, I will bless you, I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing.”

Rabbi Zalman Sorotzkin comments in Oznayim LaTorah that this promise applies to Avraham’s descendants as well. Am Yisrael can only reach its true greatness—militarily, economically, and spiritually—when we are in our Land. The Shechinah (Divine Presence) does not dwell in the diaspora; we need to open our eyes to the miracles Hashem performs in Israel daily.

The Netziv adds that Avraham's example of acting immediately upon Hashem’s command to leave teaches us how to approach the mitzvah of aliyah. He didn’t wait for everything to be perfect; he set out immediately, leaving others to handle his affairs. For us, this can mean making small concrete steps: talking about aliyah, choosing careers suited for Israel, renting instead of buying in Chutz La’Aretz, or investing in property in Israel. Such steps lock us into the journey toward aliyah, making it easier to follow through when the time is right.

Even with all the challenges, R. Chayim of Volozhin teaches that the trials Avraham endured were meant to strengthen his descendants. His steadfast commitment to aliyah instilled within each Jew the ability to heed Hashem’s call to move to Eretz Yisrael. The recent events have sparked a renewed desire for aliyah, reminding us that every Jew possesses the inner strength and spiritual "DNA" to make this journey.

In these times, it is imperative for Jewish leaders—rabbis, teachers, and mentors in diaspora schools and shuls—to emphasize the centrality of Israel in Jewish life. As role models, they have a responsibility to inspire their communities to recognize that the future of Am Yisrael lies in Eretz Yisrael. This message needs to permeate our educational systems and our daily conversations, instilling within each of us the drive to fulfill Hashem’s timeless command: Lech Lecha!—go to the land He has shown us. I know  for a fact this  constant  message  works. In my shul, in Highland Park, Congregation Ohav Emeth, the Rabbi constantly talked  about the importance of  Eretz Yisrael and  Aliya. Over the years , this  shul  had  by far the highest percent of  Aliya from any shul in the community 

Let me end with a beautiful thought from the Sefas Emes, who raises a question about the closing words of the first blessing in our Shmoneh Esrei, "Magen Avraham" — "the Shield of Abraham." Why do we ask Hashem to protect Avraham? Avraham Avinu has been gone for thousands of years; why would he need protection? The Sefas Emes, in a classic insight of his Hasidus, explains that we are not asking Hashem to shield Avraham himself. Rather, we are asking Him to preserve within us that spark of Avraham Avinu — the essence that drove him to leave his homeland, come to Eretz Yisrael, and settle and conquer the Land of Israel.

We seek to retain the strength Avraham embodied, the unwavering commitment to avodas Hashem (serving God), enabling him to pass all his tests, from bris mila (circumcision) to the battles he entered , enduring hardship with an indestructible faith. Avraham’s life was built entirely on the will of Hashem, unshaken by the surrounding cultures and norms. This enduring spark, this legacy of resilience and faith, is the true blessing we ask for.

Ultimately, the question we must ask ourselves is: Are we listening to Hashem’s call?