Our ancestors Avram and Sarai were on a journey. Hearing the call of Lech Lecha, they ventured out, promised that they would make it to the land that was their destiny. They arrive in the land, but it’s clear from the very beginning that it is not the glorious land immediately fulfilling its promise. First, there is a famine. They are not satiated and the land, from the get-go, cannot provide what they need. Next, despite their recent arrival, they leave for Egypt, in search of food. And when they are there, the connection between Avram and Sarai breaks down. Not wanting to risk being killed by the Egyptian Pharaoh, Avram lies and says that Sarai is his sister. Indeed, Pharaoh has his way with Sarai and Avram is spared, at her expense. None of it seems like an ideal way for our ancestors to begin their journey as the beginning of our nation.
They get food, end up back in Canaan, and there are wars. Despite God maintaining a belief in the promise, we know that it is far from smooth sailing. We know about the troubles between Sarah and Hagar, between Yitzchak and Yishmael. None of it is peachy. I think you’ve gotten the sense by now that the journey to a Promised Land is not an easy one. It’s not a promise fulfilled simply because someone wants it, or even because someone works for it. The road is long and hard, with ups and downs, with glimpses of fulfillment alongside moments of despair.
In our own story of America’s journey, the story of finding our way, the story of our Promised Land, this is not the first moment of feeling like fulfillment is far off, and it won’t be the last. And we are far off not because one candidate was elected president, but because the entire process has been reflective of how divided we are, how at odds we are, how so many people have such opposing visions about what that Promised Land looks like.
The past week and the results of the election have brought up complicated feelings ranging from total elation to complete dread. Some feel despair or numbness, some feel validation and excitement. This, in and of itself, is so telling of how much work we have to do, as a collective, to find our way. We, as a people, are still on the journey of figuring out what we want our country to be. I don’t know how we can build a country together if we don’t all dedicate ourselves to that project. We must hear the call of Lech Lecha together, of journeying together. It’s the only way.
Though Avram and Sarai had many troubles, God has promised them that they are going to get to that land, with everything that it can offer. And in God telling them Lech Lecha, they know they are on a journey. Being on the journey requires a sense of hope and belief in possibility when the promises don’t seem to be fulfilled, and it requires a sense of humility and gratitude when it does. Even when there are setbacks, even when we may feel more divided than united, we must realize that we must be in the project together. And it will require resilience and dedication for all of us, along that journey, to work together to create a shared vision. A shared Promised Land. May we dedicate ourselves to that work. May we build that land together.
