Tatte Avraham

There is a Chassidic aphorism which says that Parashas Bereishis contains the sin of Adam and Chava and the murder of Hevel. As joyous an occasion as the creation of the world ought to be, that joy was marred by those tragedies. Parashas Noach contains the flood and the rebellion of the generation of the dispersion, so notwithstanding Noach’s righteousness, it too isn’t an entirely joyous parashah.

Parashas Lech Lecha, however, is a joyous week. It begins with Avraham and ends with Avraham and is filled with untainted joy.

There is an unfortunate reality known as parental alienation. It is an issue prevalent in society at large and, sadly, within the Jewish community as well. This article isn’t about parental alienation in its conventional sense, but rather a different manifestation of it: an attempt to alienate the Jewish people from their undeniable connection to their father, Avraham Avinu.

Twice in the last year, to my knowledge, Tucker Carlson has advanced the narrative that the Jewish people today are not the biblical Jews descended from Avraham. He raised this issue in conversations with Ted Cruz and later with Mike Huckabee.

There is a well-known saying, often attributed to Nazi propagandist Joseph Goebbels, that a lie repeated often enough eventually becomes accepted as truth. Regardless of the precise attribution, the phenomenon is real. When such narratives are repeatedly broadcast from platforms with enormous audiences, they inevitably find their way into the consciousness of people who are all too eager to believe them.

The brothers Bentzi and Shmuly Marcus of the band 8th Day, in their hit song “Avraham,” sing: “Avraham, yes, we’re the children that you dreamed of. We’re that shining star you saw at night. We know it’s true, we still call you Avinu. Our father, our pride, we got your soul inside. Take us home.”

There is something especially moving about those words in the current climate. We still call you Avinu. Regardless of what anyone says, Avraham remains our father, our pride, and the source of the spiritual identity that has accompanied us throughout history.

But are we supposed to be bothered by the fact that there are antisemites who promote these ridiculous narratives? Perhaps we should simply ignore them rather than lend credibility or attention to those who spew such vitriolic hatred.

The Torah, however, is replete with instances in which Hashem is seemingly concerned with what the nations of the world will say.

Following the sin of the spies, when Hashem threatens to destroy the Jewish people, Moshe Rabbeinu invokes the perception of the nations in his plea for mercy.

“V’shamu Mitzrayim ki he’elisa v’chochacha es ha’am hazeh mikirbo.”

“And Egypt will hear that You brought this people out from its midst with Your power.”

Moshe continues that the nations will conclude that Hashem was unable to bring the Jewish people into the land He had promised them.

In other words, the perception of the nations matters. Not because their opinions determine the truth, but because the recognition of Hashem in the world is itself part of the Divine purpose of creation.

We cannot simply turn the other way or drown out the noise coming from the other side.

Furthermore, regardless of the fact that these allegations are lies, which they are, the fact that they are being circulated and, in many cases, ingrained in segments of society ought to prompt us to examine whether we have sufficiently fulfilled our responsibility toward the rest of humanity.

Avraham Avinu was not merely the father of the Jewish people. Hashem changed his name from Avram to Avraham, declaring: “Ki av hamon goyim nesaticha.”

“For I have made you the father of a multitude of nations.”

From the moment Avraham smashed the idols of his father and was cast into Nimrod’s furnace, he did not turn his gaze away from the nations of the world. He practiced his avodah proudly before their eyes and sought every opportunity to educate them about the existence of Hashem.

The Torah describes Avraham and Sarah’s activities in Charan with the words: “V’es hanefesh asher asu b’Charan.”

“And the souls that they made in Charan.”

Rashi explains that Avraham brought the men under the wings of the Shechinah and Sarah did the same for the women. The Torah considers their efforts as though they had actually created those souls.

Avraham wasn’t content with discovering Hashem himself. His mission was to introduce the entire world to the Creator.

And perhaps this is where we need to reconsider our response to those who question our relationship with Him.

If we want the nations to recognize that we are Avraham’s children, perhaps the most effective response is to behave like Avraham’s children.

Not merely by defending our ancestry, but by perpetuating his mission.

I strongly contend that the rise in antisemitism throughout the world is not due solely to a degradation in society. It should also compel us to consider whether we have neglected an essential dimension of our own mission: our responsibility to bring an awareness of Hashem to the nations of the world.

This is not to suggest, chas v’shalom, that the Jewish people are responsible for the hatred directed against them. Those who propagate antisemitism bear full responsibility for their actions. But the existence of such hostility does not absolve us of our obligation to illuminate the world around us.

The Rambam writes in Hilchos Melachim that Moshe Rabbeinu was commanded by Hashem to encourage all the inhabitants of the world to accept the commandments given to the descendants of Noach.

The Seven Noahide Laws are not merely a framework for maintaining a civilized society. They represent the recognition that the world has a Creator and that humanity is accountable to Him.

The prophets describe a future in which the knowledge of Hashem will permeate the entire world.

“Ki malah ha’aretz de’ah es Hashem kamayim layam mechasim.”

“For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of Hashem as the waters cover the sea.”

Yirmiyahu describes a time when people will no longer need to teach one another to know Hashem, because all will know Him, from the smallest to the greatest.

The Rambam concludes Hilchos Melachim by describing the Messianic era as a time when the entire world’s occupation will be solely to know Hashem.

This universal awareness of Hashem is not an incidental benefit of the geulah. It is one of its defining purposes.

The nations of the world are not spectators in the Divine drama of creation. They are participants in it.

In the language of Chassidus, the Jewish people represent the soul, while the nations of the world represent the body. And the body must be whole for the soul to fully express itself.

The Maggid of Mezritch taught that a small imperfection in the body can reflect a large imperfection in the soul.

We cannot expect the soul to achieve its ultimate purpose while remaining indifferent to the condition of the body.

The Lubavitcher Rebbe was unique among Jewish leaders of recent generations in the scope and intensity of his campaign to disseminate the Seven Noahide Laws throughout the world.

The Rebbe understood that preparing the world for Moshiach was not exclusively an internal Jewish endeavor. It required bringing the knowledge of Hashem and the moral responsibilities that flow from that knowledge to every corner of the globe.

The unprecedented connectivity of our age makes the execution of this initiative more achievable today than ever before.

A message that once required Avraham Avinu to travel from place to place, opening his tent to wayfarers and teaching them about Hashem, can now reach millions of people instantaneously.

And yet, despite these extraordinary opportunities, how much attention do we devote to this aspect of our mission?

We have seen enormous sums of money spent on Super Bowl advertisements denouncing antisemitism. While the intentions behind these campaigns are certainly commendable, perhaps it is time to reconsider our approach.

Instead of spending millions of dollars telling the world not to hate Jews, perhaps it is time to raise those same millions to tell the world about Hashem.

Imagine a Super Bowl commercial introducing millions of viewers to the Seven Noahide Laws, to the existence of one Creator, and to the universal moral responsibilities that accompany that recognition.

We have spent far too much time on the defensive, responding to hatred, refuting allegations, and pleading with the world to recognize our legitimacy. Perhaps it is time to assume an offensive posture, not against anyone, but on behalf of the truth that Avraham Avinu devoted his life to spreading.

After all, Avraham didn’t spend his life defending himself against the idolaters of his generation. He challenged their worldview by introducing them to something infinitely greater.

The ultimate response to a world that questions our connection to Avraham is not another advertisement insisting that we are his children. It is a worldwide campaign demonstrating that we are continuing his work.

We invest tremendous resources in strengthening Jewish identity, Jewish education, and Jewish continuity, as we certainly should. But how often do we consider our responsibility to educate the rest of humanity about its relationship with Hashem?

If the world is contesting our relationship with our forefather Avraham, perhaps the response demanded of us is to intensify our commitment to the very mission that defined his life.

There is a beautiful irony in the fact that the man whose relationship to the Jewish people is being challenged was designated by Hashem as the father of a multitude of nations.

Avraham’s greatness was not limited to the family he fathered. It extended to the world he sought to transform.

And perhaps that is why Parashas Lech Lecha is described as a parashah of untainted joy.

Bereishis introduces a world created by Hashem, but almost immediately we encounter humanity’s failure to recognize and fulfill its purpose. Noach introduces a world that must be destroyed and rebuilt, only to encounter another rebellion against its Creator.

And then comes Lech Lecha.

Avraham enters the picture, and for the first time, someone takes personal responsibility for bringing the entire world back to Hashem.

The joy of Lech Lecha is not merely the emergence of the father of the Jewish people. It is the beginning of humanity’s journey toward universal recognition of its Creator.

The greatest vindication of our relationship with Avraham Avinu is not merely that we descend from him, but that his mission continues to live through us.

They can question our ancestry, but they cannot erase our responsibility.

And perhaps the most meaningful way of declaring that Avraham is still our father is to ensure that the world he dreamed of finally becomes a reality. 

Yochanan Gordon can be reached at [email protected]. Read more of Yochanan’s articles at 5TJT.com.