The heart grieves over what is left behind, and the unknown that lies ahead teems with monsters. I will never be able to imagine my parents' state of mind as they left, for I live in a world where exile is a commonplace and the Holocaust has imbued every Jew with a measure of existential angst. What I do recall is the emotional intensity of the day in 1946 when my parents finally became U.S. citizens, a ceremony they took me out of school to witness. For me the Torah is an epic about exile, the quintessential fate of Jew and non-Jew alike in the twentieth century. The motif is struck at the outset by the expulsion of Adam and Eve from their Edenic domicile.
Instability is a mark of the human condition.
At the age of 75, he is impelled to leave his land and birthplace and father's dwelling to relocate in unfamiliar and hostile surroundings. Many a Holocaust survivor is afflicted with lifelong feelings of guilt over deeds done to escape extermination. Exile is a harsh test of virtue and character, and we who have been spared should not indulge in self-righteousness. The persistence of the theme of exile is not to be denied. When Abraham, at the pinnacle of his power, is about to settle down and take possession of his new land, God informs him of an unsettling scenario.