Lech Lecha A Legacy of Faith, Trials, and Triumph (2024)

Good morning, dear friends,

This week’s Parshah is Lech Lecha. I'm sharing this message in the merit of my dear husband, Rav Shlomo ben Harav Yitzchak, may his neshamah (soul) have an aliyah (elevation). Today also marks his Yahrzeit (anniversary of passing).

Coincidentally—or perhaps not—this week also commemorates the Yahrzeit of Rav Meir Shapira zt”l, Rosh Yeshiva of the legendary Yeshivat Chachmei Lublin in Poland. I believe it's close to his 90th Yahrzeit. At the time, this Yeshiva was renowned as the most beautiful Torah institution built outside of Eretz Yisrael. After the war, the Ponevezher Rav famously vowed to rebuild something even more magnificent in Eretz Yisrael, to replace what was lost.

The Enduring Brilliance of Daf Yomi

Rav Meir Shapira was more than a Rosh Yeshiva. He was a visionary leader who skillfully interacted with Polish government officials, and the revolutionary mind behind Daf Yomi—the daily study of one page of Gemara by Jews worldwide.

At the time, many rabbanim (rabbis) opposed the idea. They questioned the value of learning just one daf (page) a day, noting that some learned more slowly and in-depth. Others wondered if a single page could truly make a meaningful difference.

But Rav Meir Shapira had a grander vision: unity. He yearned for every Jew, no matter their location, to connect with another through a shared page of Gemara. He famously launched the idea before Rosh Hashanah, announcing that everyone would begin together with Masechet Berachot, Daf 2a. Though skeptics existed, history proved his wisdom.

When the initiative launched, the Gerer Rebbe himself opened a Gemara that evening to begin learning. The movement grew, and today, Siyum HaShas (celebrations marking the completion of the entire Talmud) events are attended by tens of thousands worldwide. Though Rav Meir Shapira passed away at just 42 and left no biological children, millions learn Torah every day in his merit, a testament to his profound legacy.

Rachel Imeinu: A Legacy of Empathy

This coming week, on Yud Aleph Cheshvan, we also commemorate the Yahrzeit of Rachel Imeinu (Matriarch Rachel). Rachel embodies the power of empathy and self-sacrifice. As Hashem tells her:

"Because you gave up your own honor for your sister’s dignity, your children will be returned from exile."

This remains our fervent prayer today—may all captives and displaced souls return home safely.

Lech Lecha: The Genesis of a Nation

The monumental journey of Avraham Avinu truly begins in this Parshah. While we hear of his earlier trials in Parashat Noach, such as being cast into the fiery furnace by Nimrod, the Torah does not explicitly detail them here. The Ramban explains this: Avraham chose those trials voluntarily. However, in Lech Lecha, Hashem commands him:

"Lech Lecha — Go forth from your land, your birthplace, your father's house…"

At 75, Avraham was settled and influencing others in Charan. Yet, he asked no questions—no "Why me?" no "Where am I going?"—just complete trust in Hashem.

The Midrash notes that the phrase "Lech Lecha" appears twice in the Torah: here, and again at the Akeidat Yitzchak (binding of Isaac). It then raises the question: Which was the harder test? Leaving everything behind, or sacrificing his beloved son?

The answer: We must not underestimate the difficulty of that first test. Leaving your past, your family, and your identity behind demands tremendous inner strength. And it was this foundational trial that built the inner resilience needed to withstand the later, even greater challenges.

"Lech Lecha": Discovering Your True Self

Rav Hirsch beautifully explains that "Lech Lecha" means "go toward yourself." It's not merely a physical destination, but a journey of self-discovery. Hashem tells Avraham:

"El ha'aretz asher areka" — "to the land I will show you."

The grammar here is unusual. It doesn't say "arei lecha" (I will show to you), but "areka" (I will show yourself). Through these trials, Avraham would uncover the depths of his own potential. And through his journey, so too do we discover our true selves.

He became known as Avraham HaIvri—"the one who stood on the other side." When the entire world embraced idolatry, he stood for truth.

Gratitude in Mitzrayim and Beyond

Later in the Parshah, Avraham descends to Egypt. Upon his return, he meticulously retraces his steps, staying in the same inns as before. Why? Chazal say this demonstrates Hakarat Hatov—profound gratitude, even to an innkeeper, even to a place.

When he first journeyed, people mocked him: "You're poor, childless—why should we believe in your God?" But upon his return from Egypt with great wealth, people saw his words validated.

Still, life remained full of questions. Why was Sarah taken by Pharaoh? We don't always understand the reasons behind every challenge. But like Avraham, we press forward with emunah (faith).

Maaseh Avot Siman L’Banim: The Past Shapes the Future

My husband often taught that the events in our forefathers’ lives serve as profound lessons for us. When Avraham fought against the four kings who represented future exiles—Babylon, Persia, Greece, and Edom—he stood alone, yet prevailed. Why? Because he believed: Hashem is with me.

The war wasn't merely military; it was ideological. These kings, led by Nimrod (Amrafel), symbolized opposition to all spiritual values. Yet Avraham overcame them, laying the foundation of strength for Am Yisrael (the Jewish people) in every generation.

The Covenant: Brit Bein HaBetarim & Brit Milah

Finally, the Parshah ends with the Brit Bein HaBetarim (Covenant of the Pieces) between Hashem and Avraham. It’s a promise of eternal connection. Even when exiles come, even when hardships abound, our bond with Hashem remains unbreakable.

The Torah then describes Brit Milah (covenant of circumcision). This act, where a skin is removed to uncover a part of man's body that signifies his strength, teaches us a profound lesson. Why didn't Hashem create man perfect? Why did He want Avraham Avinu to perform this act, and to make Priya (folding back the skin), which is essential to the Brit? As we heard, when Hashem speaks of cleansing our hearts, He says, "U'maltem et Orlat Levavchem" (You shall circumcise the foreskin of your heart), like removing the skin during the Brit.

Brit Milah teaches us that we must go through trials to uncover and discover our hidden strengths. Avraham Avinu didn't know he could wage battles, confront enemies, or emerge from Egypt wealthy through his faith. He first had to face trials, realizing then that he could move forward and fulfill Hashem's expectations. Similarly, Hashem tells us that in life, many things will be unclear. But we must remove what blocks our connection to Him and uncover the inner strengths within us. If we trust Hashem, even without all the answers, we can move forward like Avraham Avinu did—"Lech Lecha"—just go on. Don't dwell on the past; move forward. Build your future with strength, faith, and trust. This is the Brit—the connection, the covenant—that Hakadosh Baruch Hu has established with each one of us.

A Story of Chesed and Kiddush Hashem

I'd like to end with a beautiful true story I heard this week, which happened a year or two ago.

A middle-aged man with severe lung disease was very sick in the hospital, confined to his bed and attached to a machine. One night, he called the nurses, insisting on sitting in a chair, despite the extreme pain and difficulty breathing. The nurse said he wasn't allowed to, but he pleaded, "Just five minutes. Put me in the armchair for five minutes, and I'll go back to my bed." The nurse inadvertently forgot about him, and he remained in the chair all night. At six in the morning, the morning shift staff were shocked. "What are you doing here? You know you're not allowed! You must be in tremendous pain!" He calmly replied, "I forgot to call. I was sitting here. It's fine." They gently helped him back into bed.

Later that morning, his son or brother-in-law came in and was shocked. "What happened? What you did was very dangerous!" The man explained, "Yesterday, they brought in an elderly man, a Rosh Yeshiva. He had to sleep, and I cough incessantly when I lie down. I was afraid I wouldn't let him sleep, so I asked to be sat in the chair, even though it was painful. I didn't sleep, but at least he did." The next morning, the Rosh Yeshiva left the room.

A few days later, the man passed away. One of the nurses, deeply impressed by him, visited the family at home. She said, "He was a great Tzadik. We couldn't get over how caring he was for others, despite his suffering." She continued, "You should know, there was a Russian nurse working our shift. When he heard about this, he had been planning to marry a non-Jewish girl. He called her up, told his colleagues, and broke off their engagement. He said, 'How could I possibly marry a girl and not have Jewish children when I see the greatness of the Jewish nation, their care for others, their empathy?' He decided he would only marry a Jewish girl."

This is what we call Kiddush Hashem. This was the greatness of Avraham Avinu, and this is the power he instilled in each one of us—the ability to make a Kiddush Hashem.

Have a wonderful Shabbos, and all my love from New York.