can you be curious about the mystery?

It has been nearly nine and a half years since we moved to Philly (incredible!). I began my tenure at Kol Tzedek one week later. 

I still remember the feeling of arriving in the heat of summer, sitting on the couch in our yet unpacked, un-airconditioned living room and thinking, “Take me back to Boston, we have made a grave mistake!” That feeling has nothing to do with Philly. And everything to do with my relationship to change, and moving is among the biggest of changes. I was a ball of resistance.

Only now, in a life overflowing with blessings, this community tops among them, can I revisit the courage it took to move our family from Boston to Philadelphia (a relatively small move in the grand scheme of the world). 

I can hardly imagine the courage of our ancestor Abraham, told explicitly to leave his land, the place he was born, his home, and to go in search of himself.  

What makes such a journey worthwhile? What makes it possible? 

Lech Lecha - literally, go towards yourself - are the potent opening words and namesake of this week’s Torah portion. Honestly, accepting the position at Kol Tzedek was a pivotal Lech Lecha moment in my life. 

I have actually been studying this parsha for weeks in preparation for a class that I am teaching with Dr. Elsie Stern on Theologies of Exile. Elsie has helped me see that Torah is full of stories of migration. Adam and Eve leave the garden. Abraham leaves everything he knows. Joseph and eventually his brother journey to Egypt. The Israelites and the Exodus story. Nevermind 40 years in the wilderness. 

I have come to appreciate Lech lecha as a core migration story. But the rabbis insist it is also a mystical and inner journey. The alliterative doubling presents a grammatical mystery, one that points to more than physical movement. As if to say, Abraham - Go, Lech! Lecha! - Go, journey inside yourself, become aware of yourself. And in my experience, the inner journey is necessary to make the move possible. Each year Lech Lecha is an invitation to honor the places we have been and left behind, and also a summons to appreciate the journey inward. 

In my own experience the journey inward can actually be harder to begin. It is one of the reasons we created our new prayerbook, to serve as a starting point for the journey inward. I have sat with so many Kol Tzedek members who bravely confess they don’t know how to pray. Which is so relatable. Prayer is by nature intangible and internal. Especially when the Source of our prayers is ineffable, invisible, infinite. And particularly for our postmodern brains, prone to rationality. 

Given the depths of chaos and uncertainty in our world, I don’t think we can afford to silence the call of Lech Lecha this week – not as the call to flee, but as an invitation to be more present. 

I invite you to find a moment to close your eyes, to leave behind your to-do list, your computer, your cell phone, and to journey inward. To let your mind settle and wander and fill with wonder about everything that is unknown. Prayer as a practice begins with curiosity. 

This Shabbat Lech Lecha, can you find a moment to be curious about the mystery?

In the words of Lucille Clifton in her poem “the story thus far”,

so they went out
clay and morning star
following the bright back
of the woman

as she walked past
the cherubim
turning their fiery swords
past the winged gate

into the unborn world
chaos fell away
before her like a cloud
and everywhere seemed light

seemed glorious
seemed very eden

Lech Lecha – Leap, let go, go into the unborn world, encounter the mystery. 
May it be glorious!