The Maqam of Lekh Lekha: A Lesson of Resilience

A few days ago, while studying the Sedra (Torah portion) Lekh Lekha with my rabbi, HaRav Yitzchok Isaac Moshe Yagod*, he pointed out that the divine call to Abraham encompasses not only the promise of a new beginning, but also the hardships and uncertainties that accompany it. According to my Rabbi’s explanation, Avram’s test was, in part, whether he could embrace this journey without knowing where it would lead, trusting that something meaningful could emerge from the process. Known in Jewish tradition as ish chessed (a man of loving-kindness), the patriarch received these divine tests with grace, always seeking the positive outcome in every situation.

This insight made me reflect on the liturgical traditions of the Sephardi Yerushalmi and Aram Ṣoba (Aleppan) communities. These traditions utilize a system of melodic motifs called maqamat (plural of maqam) that vary from Shabbat to Shabbat. Each maqam sets a specific mood for the prayer environment, subtly echoing the central theme of the weekly Torah portion.

On Shabbat Lekh Lekha, the maqam chosen for the prayers is Maqam Ṣaba. In broader Middle Eastern musical culture, Maqam Ṣaba evokes grief, deep longing, and vulnerability. However, within the Yerushalmi** and Aram Ṣoba traditions, it carries a richer, multifaceted meaning. It is associated with the birth of a baby for Ṣaba sharing its initial letters with Ṣabi, which means “baby” in Arabic; as well as the covenant, which is why it is used during berit milah ceremonies. Furthermore, it conveys strength and power, echoing the Hebrew word for an army, Ṣabá.

Because of these dual traits, Maqam Ṣaba perfectly captures the emotional weight of God’s call in Lekh Lekha: leaving behind one’s birthplace, culture, familiar surroundings, social standing, friends, and family. Embarking on a new journey often begins with loss, with the painful realization that moving forward requires leaving something precious behind. In the case of Avram, it was the loss of his culture, his social standing, his social circle, and his family. In the words of Professor Rabbi Jonathan Grossman***, God’s call gradually escalates in its demands, ultimately requiring a total disengagement from the life Avram had known until then. This profound tension is reflected in the apparent melancholy of Maqam Ṣaba.

Yet, Ṣaba and our sedra share another dimension. The very same musical mode that expresses vulnerability and pain also accompanies the celebration of a covenant between the individual and God. The discomfort of the moment and the joy of belonging are not mutually exclusive; they are deeply intertwined. As Rabbi Grossman notes , the journey commanded in Lekh Lekha is a preparatory step toward building an entirely new life. God commanded a departure from Avram’s past, but that command was coupled with the divine promise of a new land and posterity.

My Rabbi, R. Yagod, pointed out that the word lekha can be understood as “for your own benefit.” This implies that heeding God’s call was ultimately in Avram’s own best interest. The patriarch understood that behind the apparent hardship of the call lay a greater reward. As R. Yagod taught me, this attitude was the fruit of Avram’s chesed. This reminded me of the words of Rabbi Ezra Bick in his book on the Thirteen Attributes of Mercy , where he states that true strength does not come through violence or power, but through loving-kindness and mercy. This quality was the very source of power that fortified Abraham to overcome and be elevated by his trials.

Perhaps this is the deeper lesson of Ṣaba in Sedra Lekh Lekha. The journey of our forefather reminds us that a divine calling does not necessarily spare us from grief, uncertainty, or sacrifice; rather, it invites us to find meaning within them. Such as Avram became Abraham, the Torah is inviting us to become who we are supposed to be and to reach our fully potential in our self-making to the image of the Divine, with God’s help. What initially feels like a painful departure can become the beginning of a deeper commitment, a new identity, and a relationship with God that we could not have discovered otherwise.

Ṣaba teaches us that the pain of a journey and the blessings it ultimately brings belong to the very same story. The covenant gives meaning to the hardship. And perhaps that is the essence of Lekh Lekha: having the courage to leave the familiar, to walk into the unknown, and to trust that even through vulnerability and loss, we may find our way toward something sacred.

*R. Yitzchok I. Moshe Yagod is the main Rabbi and President of Congregation Beth Avraham in Easton, PA. He obtained his rabbinic semicha from Mir Yeshiva in Israel. Back in the Americas, he studied under R. Pinchas Hirschprung and R. Notta Greenblat until their passing.

**In several respects, the Yerushalmi liturgical tradition may be understood as an offshoot of the Aram Ṣoba tradition, owing in part to the influence of the Ades Synagogue in Jerusalem. The historical development of these two liturgical traditions, however, lies beyond the scope of this essay.

***Grossman, J. 2023. Abraham, The Story of a Journey. Maggid Books. 485 p.