BS”D
ICONOCLAST
INTRODUCTION: PARSHAT LECH LECHA
Shira Smiles shiur 2021/5782
Adapted by Channie Koplowitz Stein
Other
than the genealogical listing of Avraham as the son of Terach and his marriage
to Sarai, we hear nothing about the life of Avraham Avinu until he is seventy
five years old when Hashem commands him, “Lech lecha/Go for yourself
from your land, from your relatives, and from your father’s house to the land
that I will show you.” While the Medrash fills in some of the blanks that help
us see Avraham’s journey to monotheism and the lessons we may derive from these
stories, the Torah itself is silent. We are left to wonder why Hashem chose
Avraham and why this first command to Avraham and Avraham’s obedience to it was
so significant.
Ramban
offers a simple, practical response to our question. If the Torah were to
record Avraham’s journey, the Torah would need to record the views of the
idolaters along with Avraham’s wisdom. Hashem did not want to give the
idolaters’ views a platform.
The
Torah could still have said that Avraham was righteous, or that he found favor
in Hashem’s eyes, as the Torah says of Noach. According to the Maharal, Hashem
had “personal” reasons for choosing Avraham, reasons that had nothing to do
with Avraham himself. As Rabbi Mintsberg notes in Ben Melech, Noach was
saved as a reward for his past righteousness. In contrast, Avraham was chosen
for his future potential, for Hashem knows that Avraham “will command his
children after him to follow Hashem’s path and practice righteousness and
justice.”
The
reasons for Hashem’s choosing Avraham are beyond our understanding, writes
Rabbi Schlesinger, and the unconditional love between Hashem and Avraham’s
descendants, Bnei Yisroel, is equally unexplainable. It is a love that is
maintained even without being earned.
The
Ner Uziel extends this idea of unconditional love to the love Bnei
Yisroel have for Eretz Yisroel. While Yehoshuah and Kalev loved the land
unconditionally in spite of its seemingly insurmountable challenges, the other
ten spies were only willing to accept the gift of this land without the
challenges of a war against its giant inhabitants. The spies’ sin, and
subsequently that of the nation, was that love of the land was conditional,
depending on the circumstances, rather than unconditional, based on its being
Hashem’s loving gift to us. If love is to last, whether for another human being,
for a land, or for a people, it must be unconditional. Only then will the love
endure even in the knowledge that flaws exist, even when the object of the love
does not continue to meet expectations.
Extrapolating
from this train of thought, since Hashem’s love for Noach was contingent on his
righteousness, and Hashem entered into a covenant with Noach on this
basis, when Noach’s descendants, i.e. all mankind, were no longer
righteous, the covenant itself was no longer valid. In contrast, continues Rabbi
Milevsky, Hashem’s covenant with Avraham was unconditional, and His gift of the
Land to Bnei Yisroel must be viewed with the same eyes of unconditional love.
The first command to Avraham cements both relationships. Hashem will continue
to love us even when He is angry with us, even when we are unworthy. Hashem’s
love for Avraham and his descendants is eternal and unconditional. And our love
for Eretz Yisroel, for the land Hashem led Avraham to, must be equally
unconditional.
Each
of the first three portions of the Torah contains a story of creation. The
first, obviously, is the creation of the world. This is followed by the
creation of a new world after the flood. Finally, we read of the creation of
the Jewish world. The first Jew was then commanded to go to the first Land, the
center of the universe, explains Rabbi Wolfson.
That
connection between the descendants of Avraham and Eretz Yisroel has never been
severed. Just as we have yearned to return to the Land throughout the millennia
of our exile, so has the land yearned for the return of her people. We have
never stopped praying for our return to Zion and Jerusalem, and the land wore
only sackcloth and ashes, unwilling to produce colorful, lush vegetation until
her children finally returned. The two are inextricably intertwined, writes the
Nachalat Yosef. Our connection to Eretz Yisroel is different from the
connection of other peoples to their land. For us, the Land is not just a place
to live and call home, as it is for other nations. The Land is part of our very
essence, for it is the only place where our prophets could receive the word of
God, and it is the place from which the deepest secrets of Torah can be studied
and revealed, adds the Aderet Kohein.
Beit
Av brings us back to our original question, why does the Torah only begin
telling us about Avraham Avinu when he received the command “Go” from Hashem.
That is precisely the point notes Beit Av. The value of one’s actions
lies in following Hashem’s command even without understanding and reason rather
than doing what one perceives as good through personal deduction. This was the
first command Hashem gave, and Avraham Avinu followed it without question,
proving his worthiness of receiving Hashem’s blessing.
The
Lubavitcher Rebbe continues this thought. Our connection to Hakodosh Boruch Hu
was initiated by Hashem Himself, not by us, and it is through the mitzvoth,
through doing, that we cement and grow the relationship. Our mitzvah
observance, that which Hashem has already commanded, must stem from our desire
for the relationship. Mitzvah observance brings our bodies as well as our souls
into the relationship. Kiruv is most effective when one begins with
doing rather than with intellectual discussion and listening. Na’aseh/Do,
follow Hashem’s command on faith because it is His command, before nishma/hearing
the details or reasons. If we examine the full command to Avraham, suggests the
Lubavitcher Rebbe, we will understand that Hashem commands Avraham Avinu to
distance himself from the past in more than physical ways. “Go mei’artzecha/your
ratzon,” submit your will to His will, “Mimoladitcha/your
homeland,” your family, personality, and familiar habits, “Umibeit Avicha/your
father’s house,” from the seat of your identity, your brain and thought
processes. This is the paradigm for every Jew. Hashem has wired us to seek that
connection, and has given us the process through Torah and mitzvoth. When one
performs a mitzvah because he has been so commanded, one reaches a greater
connection than when one initiates the act.
“Lech
Lecha,” begin the journey and grow yourself, and through the process, “Arekah/I
will reveal to you your true essence, an essence rooted in Godliness.
The
Torah is not a novel or a history book. It begins with what is relevant to Bnei
Yisroel, not with what may be interesting but relatively irrelevant to the
descendants of our Patriarch Avraham, writes Rabbi Broide in Sam Derech.
What becomes paradigmatic is itself recorded in great detail. As Rabbi
Schlesinger notes, breaking idols, as the medrash tells of Avraham in Ur
Kasdim, is not generally appropriate behavior. The emphasis is on the positive,
on the souls Avraham and Sarah made in Charan. Great people, writes Rav
Schlesinger in Zos Hatorah, focus on the constructive, not on the
destructive. Focus on bringing more light, on strengthening the emunah/faith,
rather than on highlighting the darkness. With enough light, the darkness of
evil will disappear on its own. This is what we must focus on when interacting
with our children. We must focus on the beauty and light of Yiddishkeit, not on
the things we may not do. [Children don’t understand that restraint is a path
to growth, that cutting back the overgrowth of plants will reveal the beautiful
path through the garden. They just want to enjoy the pretty flowers they
immediately notice while missing the hidden beauty further in. CKS]
Rabbi
Reiss quotes the Sefat Emet, based on the Zohar Hakadosh, that brings a unique
perspective to our study. The Zohar suggests that the call of lech lecha,
go for yourself to the land that I will show you, was a universal call. Anyone
could have been chosen. Everyone heard, anyone could have listened, but only
Avraham answered the call. But that call was not a unique, one time call. Rav
Reiss reminds us that a heavenly voice calls out every day to be conscious of
the humiliation of Torah. Just as Avraham Avinu heard that call, so do our neshamot
hear that daily call. We need to be proper receivers of that call, just as our
forefather was. We too need to separate ourselves from our personal voices,
from our egos, so that we can hear the voice of Hashem calling to us. We cannot
hear both voices simultaneously.
Rav
Reiss presents a wonderful metaphor to explain this situation. Observe two
outwardly identical water pipes. Through one, the water flows freely and is
easily accessible from the spout. Through the other, however, the water merely
drips slowly and intermittently. What causes the difference between the two?
One pipe is fully open and clear, while the other pipe is full of clumps of
debris obstructing the flow. If we are to hear Hashem’s voice in messages He
sends us constantly, we must remove the blockages created by our egos, our
daily ruts and concerns. We must approach every day as a new opportunity to connect,
to daven with renewed awareness, to observe a mitzvah with renewed focus and
love. Sefat Emet notes that this is hinted in the words ‘lech lecha’,
which could mean, ‘go, from yourself’. When one is able to constrict the
ego, have the necessary humility, one can then hear the Voice of Above, and
heed the call.
If
we are to recreate ourselves into a new, elevated persona, we need to leave the
familiar habits and surroundings that may be holding us down. This is the basis
of Rabbi Dovid Hofstadter's explanation of Elisha’s request to say goodbye to
his parents. The Prophet Eliyahu threw his cloak over Elisha, indicating that
Elisha was to be his spiritual heir and prophet. Elisha understood that to
reach such an elevated spiritual position, he needed to leave the familiar and
comfortable parental environment and make a fresh start in a new life. Only if
he could feel as if his father and his mother had abandoned him, leaving him
with no one to rely upon, could he hope that Hashem would gather him in spiritually,
and he could make the connection with Hashem necessary to reach his spiritual
potential. This is the focus of the verse in Psalm 27 that we say every day
from Rosh Chosdesh Elul through Shemini Atzeret, the season when we ourselves
are on a heightened spiritual journey to connect with our Creator and the
Creator of all mankind and the world. We are asked to answer this call not only
during that season, but throughout our lives, to be ready to receive, and to
follow.