Lech Lecha
This Shabbat we study the Parsha “Lech Lecha,” meaning “Go Forth” which is found in Genesis 12:1. G-d speaks to Abram, commanding him, “Go from your land”, from your birthplace and from your father’s house, to the land which I will show you.” There, Gd says, he will be made into a great nation. Abram and his wife, Sarai, accompanied by his nephew Lot, journey to the land of Canaan, where Abram builds an altar and continues to spread the message of a one G-d. The Parsha also tells of a famine where beautiful Sarai is taken to Pharoah’s palace and Abram escapes death…the separation of Lot from Abram, with Lot settling into the evil city of Sodom….Abram’s marriage to Hagar at Sarai’s insistence….the changing of Abram’s and Sarai’s names to the more familiar Abraham and Sarah and G-d’s promise that Sarah will bear a child, whom they should call Isaac (“will laugh”).
From Chabad.org
Give Me The Soul!
Twenty-five years ago, I heard a powerful and passionate call by my saintly mentor, the Rebbe of blessed memory. It was Simchat Torah, the yom tov (festival) when we celebrate the gift of Torah in a spirit of boundless joy. He had appealed for charity to be given in the same heightened spirit, i.e., beyond normal limitations or the usual budgetary considerations. Later, he explained his call to have been one of ten li hanefesh, which, literally, means “give me the soul.” It was a special moment, and what he was demanding of his followers was a genuine outpouring of soul, a sincere act of pure faith, beyond reason or issues of affordability. The Rebbe had called for a total, unconditional commitment.
The call, “Give me the soul,” still reverberates. And it applies to everything we do. We are all composites of body and soul. But more often than not, our physical selves get all the attention while our spiritual side is neglected. How many times do we hear Jews, especially young Jews, complaining that Judaism lacks spirituality; that their synagogues and temples are devoid of any real feeling or atmosphere of sanctity?
And Gd calls out, Give me the soul! Give me back what is mine. Put some spirit back into Judaism. When our faith is superficial, we look as foolish as the pathetic thief described in the Talmud. “The thief, at the mouth of the tunnel, calls out to G-d.” Here is a goniff, a lowly criminal, about to enter the tunnel he has dug to rob a bank, but before he goes in, he prays to Gd for success. What a chutzpah! He is about to violate Gd’s express command not to steal, and has the audacity to still ask Gd to help him do the job? But such is the effect of superficiality. He has faith, our Talmudic thief. It just hasn’t penetrated. He is blissfully unaware of the hypocrisy of his actions.
The truth is that we all believe, even the thieves among us. The challenge is for the penny to drop; for that faith to reach into our core, to touch our souls. Let us heed the call, Ten li hanefesh—“Give me the soul.” Let us move beyond superficial Judaism to something deeper, profound and real, which will touch our own souls and inspire our children.
From an article by Rabbi Yossy Goldman
What Can I Do To Help Right Now?
How do you stay upbeat in the face of tragedy—brutal crimes so horrific the mind can’t begin to digest how human beings are capable of committing such atrocities? Simple. You don’t think about them. Which includes, quite obviously, that you avoid whenever possible looking at any image, as well as reading or listening to any account of them. How do you stay calm in the face of the extreme danger that Israel—and indeed the entire Jewish people wherever they may be—currently face? Simple again. You keep that in the back of your mind, but in the forefront, you focus on our strength, our unity, our resilience through every catastrophe of the past. And you hold onto only one question, “What can I do to help right now?” This is how we have survived. This is how Jews have illuminated the world over many millennia. With simchah (joy), with utter confidence in Gd, and a solid belief in our amazing people.
From an article by Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
Trust in the Redemption!
Of the Messianic redemption it is written: “As in the days of your going out from the land of Egypt, I will show them wondrous things” (Michah 7:25). This means that it will be analogous to the redemption from Egypt: just as Israel was redeemed from Egypt as a reward for their faith, so too by virtue of our faith Moshiach will redeem us. Indeed, the Midrash (Shocher Tov, ch.40) states that Israel is worthy of redemption as a reward for the kivuy (hoping for, and awaiting, the redemption). By virtue of Israel’s firm trust that “My salvation is near to come” (Isaiah 56:1), we shall merit that Gd shall redeem us with the complete and ultimate redemption, speedily, in our very own days.
From an article by Rabbi J. Immanuel Schochet
The True You
Countless hours and dollars are spent in therapy by people seeking themselves. I know someone who is a parent of three, a devoted husband, successful doctor, captain of his football team, coach of his son’s little league team, friend to his social circle, and, if that is not enough, he is also a perpetual child in the eyes of his parents. His response to any given situation largely depends on its social context. The aggressive captain responds differently from the loving husband. His response as a parent is different from his response as a friend. The professional doctor is different from the perpetual child. He is often plagued by the question, who am I? What is my internal response to any given situation? We should all ask that question. Somewhere beneath the vestments I wear and the roles I play lurks the real me, what does he look like? Who is he?
This is precisely what Gd told Abraham. “Go to yourself, from your country, your birthplace and your father’s home, to the land that I will show you.” First Abraham was instructed to leave his country. Our characters are shaped by the climate and atmosphere of the country we live in. Then he was told to leave his birthplace. Our characters are further conditioned by the habits, ideas and culture of our neighborhoods. Finally he was told to leave his parents’ home. The third and most critical mold of our character is the values and ethics of our parents’ home. The experiences of our youth and the principles on which we were raised are deeply imprinted in our psyche. They are the powerful forces that shape the person we are destined to become. Yet, G-d told Abraham, “Go to yourself,” leave those influences behind and find yourself. Leave your country, leave your birthplace, leave your parents’ home and find out who you are.
We are not going to find ourselves by shedding the influences of our youth or the roles we play as adults. The real you is not divorced from the roles that you play. The trick is to hold on to who we are even as we play our role so that our roles will reflect our personality, rather than define it.
Total abandon of our past is unrealistic. We cannot erase the experiences of our youth; they are the cast in which our characters are molded. We can no more run away from them than we can run from ourselves. We cannot change our past; we can either become prisoner to it or we can put it to use in the service of our true selves. For example, in our youth we may have been taught to be neat and clean up after ourselves, but an overzealous parent may have imparted this value a little too strongly and inadvertently created a compulsive neat freak. Such people, frustrated at their inhibiting compulsion and convinced that their desire for neatness is not reflective of who they are, but of whom their parents wanted them to be, often work to uproot the inclination, but this strategy is neither successful nor wise. We cannot uproot a long-ingrained inclination without uprooting a part of ourselves. A better strategy is to embrace the inclination toward being neat while working our way out of its inhibiting vise. This way we draft our past into the service of our true nature without become imprisoned by it.
This is the meaning of the words “Go to yourself from your country, birthplace and parent’s home” Don’t throw away everything you learned in your parent’s home and everything you picked up in your birthplace and country. On the contrary draft them into the service of helping you find your true voice. Salvage all the positive elements of your past even as you discard the negative ones.
In seeking our true selves we must always remember that Gd’s purpose in creating us was so that we could serve Him. Thus, anything related to the service of Gd is reflective of our truest and deepest selves. This is why Gd told Abraham to “[Go] to the land that I will show you.”
The Holy Land is conducive to a holy lifestyle; to the study of Gd’s Torah and the observance of His commandments. Adam was created in Israel because the essence of humanity is our ability to serve Gd. When we connect with Gd through His Torah and learn to serve Him through His commandments then we have found our true voice and give expression to our truest selves. “The land that I will show you,” can be treated as, the land where I will show . . . you—I will show you who you really are. The part of our lives that is connected with Gd is who we really are; it is our point of origin and true self. Everything else flows from this seminal point.
From an article by Rabbi Lazer Gurkow