In Vayera, we witness a remarkable moment when Abraham stands before God, questioning and pleading on behalf of the people of Sodom. “Will You sweep away the righteous with the wicked?” he asks, his voice a mixture of courage and vulnerability. Abraham is driven not only by love for humanity but by an unshakable belief in God’s mercy. His faith is so profound that he can argue with God, demand compassion, and seek peace for the Sodomites, even when judgment seems imminent. It’s a faith that empowers him to look beyond despair and to seek a spark of goodness, believing that God’s mercy must endure.
This story of Abraham’s courage and resilience has been a guiding light in my own life, especially during times of struggle. As you all know I’ve had my share of challenges and struggles over the last several years. I will mention a few: the way I became a father, how I obtained my Rabbinical career, cutting and pasting my life from Israel to the US, and even learning how to walk with these boots in order to be an authentic Texan Rabbi @ShaarHashalom. Each transition came with its share of fear, self-doubt, and, yes, moments of frustration with God. But, like Abraham, I chose to persist, believing that God’s kindness and support could be found even in these hardships. That faith allowed me to keep moving forward—climbing from one peak to another.
Yet, there are deeper, more collective challenges we face today. The rise of antisemitism, the ongoing war in Israel, the incomprehensible plight of the hostages held for over 400 days, and the extreme elements within the governing structures of Israel now threaten the stability and the very future of the country. It’s natural, perhaps, to feel angry, to question God’s silence in the face of such profound pain and anxiety. We ask, as Abraham did, “Where is Your compassion, Lord? Where is Your peace?”
And yet, I find myself, despite it all, believing. Believing that, even in times of overwhelming darkness, the goodness of God is present. Believing that, even amidst hatred, we have the power to bring compassion and mercy. Like Abraham, we, the believers, have the prerogative to confront God, to demand peace, to insist on an end to suffering. And like Abraham, to make Him show his compassionate side.
Abraham’s story reminds us that faith is not passive acceptance. It is an active, sometimes defiant insistence on goodness, on mercy, on peace. As Jews, and as people of faith, we follow the footsteps of Abraham- our forefather, continuing his legacy. We question, we struggle, we raise our voice in demand. But above all, we believe—in God, in goodness, and in a world that, despite everything, is capable of kindness and compassion. And so, may we find the strength to persist, to hope, and to believe that peace and mercy are always within our reach, even when they seem furthest away.
