^{7 Cheshvan 5775 | October 31, 2014}

Parshat Lech Lecha

Rabba Sara Hurwitz

President and Co-Founder

In the strange narrative of the brit bayn ha’betarim, the Covenant of the Pieces, God tells Avraham: “Know with certainty that your offspring will be strangers (geirut) in a land, and they will serve others (avdut), and they will be oppressed (inui) (Genesis 15:13).” Geirut, avdut and inui—strangers, servitude and suffering will mark the future of the Jewish people. Suffering and discord are fundamental aspects of becoming covenantal—being full participants of the brit.

My natural inclination is to ask: why? Why must we suffer? There is never a good answer to this question, and yet, suffering is an inevitable part of the human experience. Perhaps, the more relevant question then, is to ask what, if anything, can come from suffering.

Rav Joseph Soloveitchik, in his book Abraham’s Journey: Reflections of the Life of the Founding Patriarch argues that one cannot appreciate the world lest one suffers and makes personal sacrifices. In a play of words, he suggests that the korbanot (sacrifices) that Avraham brought-- the three classes of animals—cow, goat and sheep represent the gamut of animal sacrifices one may bring, which in turn each symbolize the gamut of sacrifices that one may have to make in life.

This same idea is implied in the word yerusha (inheritance). Part of the brit is God’s promise that Avraham and his descendants will “inherit the land” (Genesis 15:7). Previously, God had promised to give as a matana, a gift-- the land of Israel. But now, the land must be inherited. Unlike a gift, yersusha implies that the land must be conquered; it will not be offered on a silver platter. But, once the land has been conquered, it becomes yours to love and hold. The difficulties and loss that comes with conquering the land, will ultimately bring with it tremendous love and care for Eretz Yisrael.

The second message of the Covenant of the Pieces is that in most instances of suffering, there is a glimmer of hope and redemption.

God tells Avraham to cut and divide each of the animals, but the birds being offered must remain unscathed, uncut. Birds have the ability to fly, to ride above the tragedy. If the cut animals represent the inevitable tragedy and suffering, the birds are a symbol of the undefeated Jewish spirit that continues to soar. When immersed in tragedy, it may seem impossible to see the silver lining. Yet, in the midst of describing the future suffering of the Jewish people, God implores Avraham to remember that God took him out of Ur Kasdim. And eventually, God will take the Jewish people out of Egypt. Eventually, God’s hester panim—God’s hiddenness will be revealed.

A life of ease, void of despair and suffering is just not our reality. But the brit bein habetarim urges us to look through suffering to a glimmer of light and hope.

After God states that there will be inui—suffering in this world, God promises that eventually we will leave with great wealth—rekush gadol. “Rekush gadol,” explains the Rav does not mean actual silver and gold “but a spiritual treasure…that suffering will bring with it resistance, tenacity, and heroic strength.” (An Eternal Covenant, Abraham’s Journey, p.157) This is symbolized in having the three animals cut up in the center—that there will be complete enslavement, oppression, and martyrdom—but the birds will still always be soaring high.

In the course of our lives, suffering is inevitable; I can only hope that we are able to encounter inui, suffering, with the spirit of birds. And, with God's help, and our own fortitude we will emerge stronger, and seek to fly even higher.