Lech Lecha: R' Tannenbaum

Rav Ephraim Tannenbaum, shlit"a, is the newest Rosh Yeshiva at Beis Medrash L'Talmud. Rav Tannenbaum learned for fifteen years at Yeshiva Sha'ar HaTorah, where he learned under the guidance of Rav Kalman Epstein shlit"a. Rav Tannenbaum also spent time in Eretz Yisroel, where he had the privilege to learn by Rav Shmuel Aurbach shlit"a. During the last five years, Rav Tannenbaum served as a popular maggid shiur at Yeshiva Madreigas Ha'adam. He currently lives in Kew Gardens, and regularly spends shabbosos in the yeshiva.

I came across a mysterious comment in the writings of the Sfas Emes on this week's parsha. The "Lech Lecha" command, writes the Sfas Emes, is a command that goes out to every person, every day. Avraham's greatness was that he heard it. Really now. I, too, must leave my land, my birthplace, and my father's house. Are we obligated to do that? And every day, too? Is he joking?

No. He's challenging us to think abstractly. 'Your land, your birthplace, your father's house" - this describes your comfort zone. It's where you're at... where you've always been... the way people are accustomed to viewing you... the way you're accustomed to viewing yourself. Lech Lecha. Step out of that zone. Test the unknown. Make yourself vulnerable. Yes, every person, every day. It's the only way to achieve anything.

Imagine you have a job at an entry level position. You flip burgers. Then one day, you're called into the office and asked to become the manager. While flipping burgers, you knew exactly what was expected of you and you knew that you excelled. You knew how to flip, you knew how - and when - to talk, and you knew how to dress. You know how you were thought of by your boss, your colleagues, and the customers. As manager, you'll have none of that security. You don't know how good you'll be at handling the responsibilities. You don't know how the other employees will respond to your leadership, and you certainly don't know how anyone will find your taste in ties. As manager, you'll become vulnerable. Accepting the position means lech lecha mei'artzecha, u'mi'moladet'echa, u'mi'beis avicha. Accepting the position, and not knowing where you'll wind up is el ha'aretz asher arekah.

The same is true in our avodah ruchanis. I have a self-identity. I may not be the world's biggest tzaddik, but I'm not particularly bad, either. I may not love being me, but I'm comfortable. I know who I am, I know what's excepted of me, and I know I am good at it. I can meet those expectations. I could keep this me and get nowhere; but I have a picture of a better me... a me that often davens with kavana... a me whose learning seder is productive and consistent... a me whom my children admire for patience and calmness and my wife appreciates for my kindness and my thoughtfulness... and I fantasize from time to time about actualizing that picture.

Just one thing stops me. Saying even even one bracha with more kavana than is appropriate for my identity, requires that I leave my comfort zone. I don't know how it will feel. I don't know how people will react, and I don't know whether I'll succeed or fail. Ditto for the first time I surprise my friends and put my learning seder over a ballgame. Or the first time I tell my kids, "No, I'm not angry, all kids make mistakes sometimes." Or the first time I say into the phone, "Really, I don't want anything, I'm just calling to see how your day is going." I don't know how the words will sound coming out. I don't know how they'll be received. I'll be going out on a limb... vulnerable... into unfamiliar territory... out of my land, my birthplace, my father's house. But it's the only way up.

The Lech Lecha command goes out to every person, every day. May we all be like Avraham Avinu, and have the courage to hear it, and to take the leap.

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Tannenbaum