Parshat Lech Lecha 5766
Imagine leaving on a journey to an unknown destination in response to an uncertain promise. Now imagine going on such a journey because God sent you. That, in a nut shell, is the story of our forefather, Abraham.
The powerful words with which our Torah portion begins this morning mark the birth of our faith and the origins of the Jewish people. With the words “Lech lecha mayartzekha, mimoladetekha, umibayt aveekha el haaretz asher ereka”, “Go forth from your native land and your father’s house to land that I will show you,” Abraham begins not only a journey to a distant land but a journey of faith and self discovery. The words Lech Lecha literally mean “go to your self.” Abraham sets out in search of self definition. He is no youngster when he answers this call. In fact he’s close to seventy five years old when he leaves home for the land of the Canaan.
But even if we do not understand the chronology of the Torah literally, we have to assume that Abraham, or Avram as he was called, was already a mature man when he left his father’s house for the land that God had promised him. So what made him leave on a journey at this point in his life? What convinced him that he had to undertake what must have been an arduous journey when he had every reason to believe that he could settle down and relax?
The sages speculated about the birth of Avram’s faith. Matt Rickman, our Bar Mitzvah, shared with us the best known legend about how our forefather came to believe in God. Many of us grew up hearing the story of how Avram destroyed the idols in his father’s shop. Rashi even makes mention of how Abraham became an iconoclast and was thrown into a fiery furnace by King Nimrod because of his radical ideas.
Of course people are upset to learn that this story does not appear in the Torah. Still, it creates an image of how we should see our forefather. Abraham is depicted as a revolutionary who breaks with his past just as he leaves his father’s home to create a new life for himself and his descendants.
I’d like to suggest a different scenario this morning, for Abraham’s journey, one that was suggested to me a year or two ago by one of our members, David Bach. Abraham’s story does not begin with Lech Lecha but earlier in the Torah. In fact if you look back at the end of last week’s Torah portion you’ll find the first mention of Abraham and his family in the Torah. This passage suggests a very different story of Abraham’s life. It would appear that Avram’s journey began long before he left the Haran for the land of Canaan. In fact it was not Avram, but Terah his father, who originally set out on this journey. Here are the words of the Torah:
“Terah took his son Avram, his grandson Lot, and his daughter-in-law Sarai, the wife of his son Avram and they set out together from Ur Kasdim for the land of Canaan. But when they came to Haran they settled down. The days of Terah were 205 years – Terah died in Haran.”
A different picture of Abraham emerges from this passage. For reasons unstated in the Torah, Terah set out on his own journey to the land of Canaan but never made it all the way to the Promised Land. We are left to wonder why Terah left Ur in the first place. Did God call Terah just as he would later commission Abraham? Did Terah set out for the Land of Canaan because he too believed that it was the Promised Land?
The Torah tells us that Terah died in Haran before it tells us that Abraham set out on his journey. In fact he lived there another sixty years after his son left home. A Midrash suggests that when the Torah tells us that Terah died it means that he his dreams and hopes in life died – he lost the initiative to pursue his dreams Terah began a journey but never completed it. Like so many of us, he settled for something less than he originally strived for. He, too, began his life with high ideals and grand promises but when he arrived in Haran he found he could be just as happy with a nice home in the suburbs and a successful business.
Lech Lecha, then, is really the story of an unfinished journey. Abraham wasn’t simply an iconoclast breaking with his past but a man who was deeply aware of his father’s lost dreams and hopes. He was a person who set out to complete the journey that his father began but never concluded. So maybe Terah wasn’t an idolater at all but simply an average man who settled for less in life than he set out to find for him self. When we look back at our lives it’s easy for us to identify with Terah. How many of us have compromised and failed to attain the things that we really aspire for in life? How many of us have disappointments about the way things turned out for us? How many of us have secretly or not so secretly hoped that our children would attain the dreams that we have not attained for ourselves?
The Bible is really a book about unfinished journeys. A large part of the Torah describes the forty year journey to the Promised Land which the children of Israel undertook after they left Egypt. And yet the Torah concludes on the shores of the Jordan River just before the people crossed over to the other side. Of course the Bible continues with the story of the conquest of the land of Canaan in the books of Joshua and Judges, but the main section of the Bible, the five books of Moses, which we read each year, ends before the people of Israel ever reach their final destination. Over and over again each year we make the journey through the wilderness and approach the Promised Land only to start all over again.
The life of Moses is also a story of an unfinished journey. Moshe Rabbaynu spent his entire life teaching and leading the Jewish people only to die on a mountain top looking at the land from a distance. Like so many of us, we never quite reach the goals and dreams we set for ourselves. And yet we help to plant the seeds and form the legacy that allows others to carry on where we left off.
So instead of depicting Terah as an unrepentant idolater against whom Abraham rebelled, I’d like to suggest that he too was our forefather. Without Terah, Abraham would never have made his journey to the Promised Land in the first place. Our forefather Abraham not only answered the call of God “to go forth;” he was also responding to the unfulfilled dreams of his father and those who came before him.
There’s nothing depressing about this. Life is filled with all types of unfinished journeys. Each of us undertakes a journey in life – chances are we will not attain everything we wish for ourselves and for others. Certainly if our dreams is big enough – and they should be big - we will not fulfill them. The Protestant theologian, Reinhold Neibuhr wrote, “Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in a lifetime; therefore we must be saved by hope.”
Real dreams, meaningful dreams and aspirations, cannot be fulfilled by one person alone. That is why we have families and we become members of communities. We can begin the journey but others must pick up where we leave off. Rabbi Tarfon, one of the sages quoted in Pirke Avot, the Ethics of the Fathers, put it this way: Lo alekha hamelacha ligmor v’lo atta ben horin libatel mimenah – “You are not obligated to finish the task but neither are you free to neglect it.”
So Terah began a journey and never completed it. And Abraham began also journey but he never completed it either. God promised him that his descends would be as many as the stars in the sky, but he died with only one son to carry on his promise. Yet Abraham was a man of faith who believed that his dream would live on into future generations. We are not so very different. We ought to dream big and work hard – but understand that if our dreams are worthy enough they will be carried on by those who follow us. If we are worthy and we have set an example for others, then others will continue our journey. They will pick up where we leave off.
President Jimmy Carter probably accomplished more after being a president than he did during his years as a president of our country. Most of all, however, he has set an example of striving for big dreams and working for the good of others even if we can’t accomplish them in our life time.
President Carter has written: “I have one life and one chance to make it count for something . . . I'm free to choose what that something is, and the something I've chosen is my faith. Now, my faith goes beyond theology and religion and requires considerable work and effort. My faith demands -- this is not optional -- my faith demands that I do whatever I can, wherever I am, whenever I can, for as long as I can with whatever I have to try to make a difference.”
I believe that President Carter’s faith is not so different from that of Abraham. It is an example from which we can all learn.
Shabbat Shalom
