Unbroken wings: The Covenant Between the Parts
Parshat Lech Lecha is filled with Divine promises and covenants. Avraham is informed that a great nation will descend from him, and to his credit, he trusts Hashem wholeheartedly:
And he put his trust in Hashem, Who reckoned it to his merit (Bereishit 15:6).
Yet regarding the promise of the Land, Avraham asks for proof: “How will I know that I will possess it?” (15:8).
This question leads directly to the Brit Bein HaBetarim (Covenant Between the Parts). Avraham is instructed to take several animals, sever them in half, and place the pieces opposite one another. Additionally, he takes a turtledove and a young bird but leaves them intact. Why were the birds kept whole rather than split like the other animals?
We naturally begin with the foundational insight of Rashi. The nations of the world are compared to large beasts, whereas Israel is compared to a delicate dove. The split animals symbolize that powerful empires will eventually crumble, divide, and perish. The dove, though small and vulnerable in stature, remains intact — symbolizing that Israel will endure forever, never to be destroyed.
Chazal teach that during this covenant Avraham was shown the laws of sacrifices (Korbanot) that his descendants would one day offer in the Beit HaMikdash. Bereishit Rabbah (44:14) notes that Avraham learned the contrasting laws of bird offerings: when brought as an Olah (burnt offering), the bird’s head is completely severed (havdalah), whereas in a Chatat (sin offering), its head remains attached.
Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch explains that bird sacrifices symbolize human suffering (yissurim). The core spiritual work (Avodah) in these offerings is “to keep oneself up on a high spiritual and moral level in spite of all the suffering.” A bird, with its innate ability to soar, represents man’s capacity to rise above affliction and return to spiritual heights.
R
av Shimon Schwab builds on this, noting that suffering serves one of two purposes. The first type of suffering purifies a person of sin through sheer endurance — symbolized by the Olah bird, where the head is severed from the body. This indicates that purifying suffering functions independently of human intellect (einam teluyim b’da’at adam).
The second type of suffering is meant to awaken a person to achieve atonement through teshuvah (repentance), symbolized by the Chatat bird sacrifice. For this suffering to achieve its purpose, a person must remain intellectually cognizant, recognizing that troubles serve as a wake-up call. Therefore, in the Chatat sacrifice, the head must remain connected to the body. One must keep their “head in the game” to connect life’s trials to meaningful personal growth.
The Talmud (Berachot 53b) shares a famous story reinforcing the comparison between Israel and a dove. Rabbah bar bar Hana was traveling with a caravan, ate a meal, and forgot to recite Birkat Hamazon. Having traveled a distance, he wanted to return to the original spot to recite it. Knowing the caravan would not wait for a religious obligation, he told them he needed to retrieve a lost golden dove. He returned, recited Birkat Hamazon, and miraculously found a real golden dove on the spot!
Why did Rabbah bar bar Hana specifically invent the story of a dove? The Gemara answers: Just as a dove is saved from its pursuers only by its wings, so too, Israel is saved only by the merit of its mitzvot.
The Maharsha adds that a dove is uniquely faithful, mating only with its partner; similarly, Knesset Yisrael remains fiercely loyal, pairing itself exclusively with Hashem (“k’neged k’nesset Yisrael she’einan mizdavegin ella l’avihem she’bashamayim”).
This explains why the birds were kept whole in Avraham’s vision. Our bond with Hashem must remain unbroken and indivisible. As the famous aphorism often attributed to the Zohar states: “Kudsha Brich Hu, v’Oraita, v’Yisrael — chad hu” (G-d, the Torah, and Israel are One).
The Radak on our verse explicitly links the intact birds to Israel’s supernatural survival through centuries of dispersion:
G-d hinted to Avram, by means of these carcasses being cut in half, that all the nations exiling the Jewish people would suffer a fate as that suffered by these sacrificial animals... G-d told Avram not to cut the bird in half, seeing that it represented the nation that would emerge with Avram as their founding father. Therefore, the Torah reported that Avram did not cut the bird in half.
The word “hatzippur” includes both the pigeon and the turtledove, seeing that the Jewish people are scattered to the four corners of the globe and yet remain a single people, clinging to their Torah and their faith in spite of being scattered all over the world. The people of Israel did not trade their religion for another in spite of the heavy burden involved in enduring exile.
T
he Covenant Between the Parts was not solely a promise of glory; it was a prophetic blueprint outlining the long and painful exiles Avraham’s children would endure. While Avraham accepted the promise of progeny without hesitation, his request for proof regarding the Land triggered the Decree of Egypt (Nedarim 32a).
The graphic image of severed animals depicted the bondage and alien oppression his descendants would suffer.
Yet, as Rav Hirsch reminds us: “Just the power to soar upwards remaining unbroken was what was necessary for the hoped-for reunion of these broken parts.”
Like a dove soaring above traps, and like a flock returning home after a long winter, Am Yisrael possesses the resilience to weather every storm. We carry the eternal promise made to our founding father: no matter how far we are scattered, we will return home — whole, complete and unbroken!
Rabbi Dr. David Wiseman has been leading a weekly Torah class at the Young Israel of Hewlett for over 20 years.
