This Shabbat, we read one of the most foundational and moving Torah portions—Parashat Lech Lecha. God addresses Abram with a sharp, demanding, and stirring command:
“Go forth from your land, your birthplace, and your father’s house to the land that I will show you”
When reflecting on this command, it is worth pausing to grasp the profound significance of the event: think of the supreme and incomprehensible courage required of a young man in ancient times. He was asked to leave his tribal security, his protective family environment, and everything familiar and known, and to step out alone into the unknown.
In those days, leaving quite literally meant burning all bridges to the past. There were no telephones, no emails, and no social media. It meant knowing that there would likely be no future way to communicate with his family. Out of a burning faith and rare bravery, Abraham our Father chose to build an entirely new future—a future of spirit, mission, and identity for himself and his family.
This journey of Abraham our Father is not just an ancient historical tale; it is the genetic code of the Jewish people. This week, I experienced this firsthand in the most moving way. I had the privilege of officiating and taking part in the Bar Mitzvah celebration of the grandson of my dear, good friend, Abraham Levy Z”L. As I reflected on the story of Abraham’s life, I couldn’t help but see before my eyes that very same journey into the unknown taken by Abraham our Father.
Abraham Levy emigrated from distant Syria to Colombia. In Colombia, he married Alicia, the daughter of Holocaust survivors from Germany. Two worlds, two historical fractures—that met and established a warm Jewish home. The couple set up their home in the city of Pereira—a vibrant city of about one million residents, but without a single synagogue.
Imagine a Jewish boy, third generation, growing up as almost the only Jewish child in a massive city, without a supportive surrounding network, without friends at synagogue on Shabbat, and without daily community support. The center of the family’s Jewish life was in the city of Cali—a four-hour drive in each direction! Despite the physical distance and the unimaginable challenge, they never gave up. They traveled time and again to keep the spark alive, celebrate holidays, and maintain their connection to the community.
During the Bar Mitzvah celebration, a very special atmosphere filled the hall—an atmosphere of the Sephardic Temple. Great excitement swept through the guests when they discovered that the Bar Mitzvah boy learned his prayers and reading from the recordings of our beloved Cantor, Haim Mizrahi.
The voices and melodies that traveled from the Cantor recordings to the ears of a young boy raised in Pereira, proved once again: the Jewish spirit knows no geographical boundaries.
From East and West, from Abraham our Father to Abraham Levy, the Jew wanders between countries, cities, and cultures. Yet regardless of his numbers or his environmental isolation, he does everything in his power to grant vibrant Jewish life to the next generation and to ensure the eternity of our people.
The story of the Levy family should awaken deep reflection within each and every one of us.
Quite often, when community institutions, synagogues, schools, and classes are available right around the corner, we tend to take them for granted. The story of Pereira reminds us just how grateful we ought to be for the community structures in our midst!
Community is not merely a place to pray; it is the insurance policy for our children’s Jewish identity. It is both our duty and privilege to support these frameworks, take an active part in them, and nurture their existence for the long term—for the sake of future generations.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Refael Cohen