Rabbi's Sermons

I am still researching and lecturing in Australia this week but wanted to check in and provide a short insight into this week’s parasha of Lech Lecha (“Go for yourself”). As someone who has devoted my academic career to studying social capital—those networks of relationships, shared norms, and bonds of trust that enable communities to function effectively—I find myself returning each year to the opening verse of Lech Lecha with fresh insight. When G-d commands Avram to embark on his transformative journey, the divine instruction presents what I've come to see as a profound understanding of how social capital operates:

לֶךְ־לְךָ מֵאַרְצְךָ וּמִמּוֹלַדְתְּךָ וּמִבֵּית אָבִיךָ אֶל־הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אַרְאֶךָּ (בראשית יב:א)

"Go forth from your land, and from your birthplace, and from your father's house, to the land that I will show you." (Genesis 12:1)

The reversed order here—listing the locations Avram will depart in the opposite sequence of his actual leaving—has always struck me as intentional. Through my research, I've come to understand this not as a geographical itinerary but as a map of social disconnection, one that reveals the Torah's deep understanding of how social capital functions in human life.

In my work, I often speak about different types of social capital: bridging capital (connections across diverse groups), bonding capital (connections within tight-knit communities), and linking capital (connections across power hierarchies). The Torah's sequence maps perfectly onto these categories, but in reverse order of their intensity and difficulty to replace.

מֵאַרְצְךָ (from your land) represents what we social scientists call "weak ties"—the broader networks that provide access to resources, information, and opportunities. These are valuable but relatively replaceable. In my research, I've found that people can rebuild these professional and civic networks in new locations within a few years.

מִמּוֹלַדְתְּךָ (from your birthplace) cuts deeper into what we term "thick trust"—the relationships built over time through repeated interactions and shared experiences. My studies have shown that these hometown networks, formed through years of reciprocity, provide not just practical support but crucial psychological anchoring. They're much harder to replicate.

מִבֵּית אָבִיךָ (from your father's house) represents the ultimate form of bonding social capital. In my research on crises and disasters, I've documented how these relationships provide irreplaceable resources: unconditional support, identity formation, and what we call "given" rather than "earned" trust. The economic and psychological cost of severing these ties is profound.

By presenting these in reverse order, the Torah demonstrates an understanding that would make any social scientist nod in recognition: Avram's true test isn't the physical journey but the progressive dismantling of his social safety net. Each step requires him to abandon a more essential form of social capital, with family bonds being the most difficult and costly to leave behind.

Yet the promise to Avram—וְאֶעֶשְׂךָ לְגוֹי גָּדוֹל  "and I will make you into a great nation"—offers hope that resonates with my research. Studies show that those who successfully navigate such transitions often become "bridge-builders," creating new forms of social capital that connect previously unconnected communities. Avram's willingness to progressively abandon each layer of his existing social capital enabled him to become the ultimate connector, linking peoples across time and space.

As we read this parasha, may we appreciate both the cost and the potential of journeys that require us to leave behind our networks of support. And may we, like Avram, find the courage to build new forms of connection that bless not only ourselves but the wider communities we're called to serve.