Avraham Avinu: Parashat Lech Lecha, Kol Shalom, 2025
- admin56512
- Nov 11
- 4 min read
Parashat Lech Lecha marks a turning point in both human and spiritual history.
This Parasha truly begins the story of the people of Israel, through one man: Avraham
Avinu, our patriarch Abraham.
Abraham was born in Ur Kasdim, a prosperous civilization dominated by idolatry.
According to the Midrash, his father Terach was an idol maker, and it was within his own
home that Abraham began his spiritual quest.
One day, when left alone in the shop, he smashed his father’s statues and left only one
standing, with a stick in its hand. When Terach asked what had happened, Abraham
replied, “The biggest idol broke the others.”
His father, furious, shouted, “That’s impossible — they have no life!”
And Abraham answered, “Then why do you worship them?”
That symbolic moment represents the birth of monotheistic consciousness — the
realization that behind the universe there is one creative and moral force.
For that reason, Abraham is called the first “Hebrew” – Ivri.
The term comes from ever, meaning “side” or “bank.”
Abraham is haivri, “the one who stands on the other side” — not only geographically,
but spiritually: the one who dares to think differently, to cross the boundary of
conventional thought.
While the entire world served many gods, Abraham had the courage to stand “on the
other side,” to discover unity behind diversity.
His faith was neither passive nor naïve; it was a faith of reason, courage, and action.
He was able to leave his land, his family, and his culture to follow an inner voice that
called to him:
“Lech lecha – Go forth from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father’s house,
to the land that I will show you” (Genesis 12:1).
Abraham is the spiritual pioneer who begins a journey into the unknown, not out of
ambition, but out of moral conviction and trust in God.
Unlike Noah, he does not simply accept or obey; he argues, questions, and negotiates.
He is a man who forges his own destiny.
At the same time, he is a man of compassion: he worries about the righteous of Sodom
and dares to argue with God on their behalf. His heroism is not just of the sword, but of
the soul — the courage to confront injustice even in heaven.
His morality did not end with his own family; and it extended beyond his people. In this
sense, Abraham was a warrior of justice.
Many commentators, among them the Sefat Emet, note that the Torah could have said
simply Lech — “Go.” But it says Lech lecha — literally, “Go to yourself.”
Abraham’s journey is not only geographical but it is psychological as well. Lech Lecha is a
call to every human being to step out of our habits, our inherited biases and clichés. It is a
call to leave what is familiar and comfortable, in order to discover our true self, our true
purpose, and our own inner voice.
Lech Lecha is the first spiritual calling in biblical history.
Each of us has our own Ur Kasdim — our zone of comfort or security.
God invites us to leave it, not to lose ourselves, but to find ourselves.
Abraham’s journey culminates in the promise of a land:
“To your descendants I will give this land,” says Genesis 12:7.
It is not merely a geographic promise, but an existential covenant. From that moment on,
the Land of Israel and the people of Abraham become spiritually intertwined.
Modern Zionism, in its deepest essence, was not only a political invention to seek refuge
from European antisemitism, but a contemporary fulfillment of the promise of Lech
Lecha — a return to the land that symbolizes beginnings, commitment, and responsibility.
Just as Abraham heard the voice that called him to walk toward an unknown land, the
Jewish people in exile heard that same inner voice urging them to return to their roots, to
rebuild their national home.
The return to Israel, after millennia, is — in my view — the modern echo of “Lech Lecha.”
In Lech Lecha a division and rivalry are also born — one that runs through history: the sons
of Abraham, Isaac and Ishmael. Both are blessed, yet their paths diverge.
God promises Abraham:
“As for the son of the maidservant, I will also make him into a great nation”
(Genesis 21:13).
The Midrash teaches that when Abraham dies, Isaac and Ishmael come together to bury
him (Genesis 25:9*). That small yet powerful gesture suggests that at a deep
level, reconciliation is possible.
When the descendants of Isaac and Ishmael remember that they are indeed the children
of the same spiritual father, this can guide them toward the peace that Abraham dreamed
of — a peace based not on fear or advantage, but on mutual dignity and the recognition
that they are brothers.
Lech Lecha reminds us that faith begins with a step, that Jewish identity is born from
the courage to be different, and that the journey toward God is also a journey toward
ourselves.
Like Abraham, every generation is called to cross its own river — that is what makes us
Hebrews: the willingness to leave behind what no longer gives meaning, and to move
forward, toward a place, where hope, justice, and the promise of peace, are possible.
