Inspired by Parshas Lech Lecha, this powerful reflection reminds us that every Jewish life—like every star in heaven—shines uniquely and is worth saving.
In these testing months for our people, we’ve once again witnessed the deepest truth of Am Yisrael: every Jewish soul is priceless. From IDF soldiers risking their lives to rescue hostages, to families davening through tears, to Jews worldwide standing united in prayer and action—our nation has proven that every neshamah is a universe.
In the Torah’s language, we don’t count Jews as numbers. We count them as worlds of light.
This eternal truth echoes in this week’s Parsha, Lech Lecha. Hashem tells Avraham Avinu that his descendants will be countless—using two striking metaphors:
“Like the dust of the earth” – וְשַׂמְתִּי אֶת־זַרְעֲךָ כַּעֲפַר הָאָרֶץ (Bereishis 13:16),
and later, “Like the stars of the heavens” – הַבֶּט־נָא הַשָּׁמַיְמָה וּסְפֹר הַכּוֹכָבִים כֹּה יִהְיֶה זַרְעֶךָ (15:5).
Why both?
The Midrash (Torah Sheleima, Bereishis 15:55) teaches that when Am Yisrael lives according to Hashem’s will, we rise above the world—radiant like the stars. But when we lose our way, we are trampled like dust.
Yet, there’s another, more personal layer: the journey of Avraham himself.
When Lot, his nephew, chose to part ways—drawn by the luxury of Sedom’s fertile plains—Avraham could have said, “He made his choice.” But when Lot was captured, Avraham didn’t hesitate. He mobilized his men, crossed battle lines, and risked his life to save him.
And at that very moment, the Torah changes its language. Lot is no longer “the son of Avram’s brother” — בֶּן־אֲחִי אַבְרָם — he becomes אָחִיו, “his brother” (Bereishis 14:14).
As the Abarbanel beautifully explains, when Avraham chose compassion over indifference, family over distance, Hashem elevated him—and all of us—forever.
That’s when Hashem promised him children “like the stars of the heavens.”
Dust is numerous but indistinguishable. Stars too are countless—but each shines with its own divine spark.
Hashem’s message to Avraham was timeless:
“Because you valued a single life, your children will shine like the stars—each unique, eternal, and beloved.”
And so it is with us. When an Israeli soldier risks everything to save one hostage… when Jews around the world pray for those they’ve never met… when we refuse to abandon even a single soul—we walk in Avraham’s footsteps.
There’s a parable told of a man walking along a beach after a storm, tossing stranded starfish back into the ocean. “There are thousands,” someone scoffs. “You can’t save them all.” The man lifts another starfish, throws it back, and replies, “I made a difference to that one.”
That’s what it means to be the children of Avraham. We don’t give up. We don’t forget. We save one more soul, we light one more star.
Every act of Ahavas Yisrael—every prayer, every mitzvah, every rescue—rekindles the divine spark in our people.
Because in the heavens, no star is forgotten. And on earth, no Jew is ever alone.
