Why was Abraham the First Jew?

Written by Rabbi Elliott Karstadt — 1 November 2025

I mentioned Joseph’s love of asking questions – and I am delighted to say that one of the questions Joseph asked a few weeks ago as we were discussing his portion prompted me to go away and do a great deal of thinking and some reading. The question Joseph asked was: Why do we say that Abraham was the first Jew, and not Noah?

What is the difference between these two hugely important figures in our tradition? They both encounter the same God; they both offer sacrifices to the same God in the same place. Both make covenants with God – and yet the covenant with Noah is explicitly understood now to refer to all humanity, whereas Abraham’s covenant is only with the Jewish people.

What is it that distinguishes them? Why does Noah somehow fade into the background as a forebear shrouded in mystery, whereas Abraham is part the historical story of the development of Judaism and the Jewish people?

Noah, we are told, ‘walked with God’. In the first verse of the story of Noah we read:

אֶת־הָֽאֱלֹהִ֖ים הִֽתְהַלֶּךְ־נֹֽחַ

Noah walked with God (Gen. 6:9) – and when we studied this text last week, one of our members, Rolfe, pointed out that the verbal construction here is quite unusual.

The dictionary suggests ‘to traverse’ ‘to move to and fro’ ‘to walk about’. The hitpalel is the reflexive case. There is not necessarily any sense of direction or intention.

This form of the verb is used also in the book of Samuel to describe David and his men before David becomes king – and the translation in our JPS translation is that they are ‘roaming around’ – we get the sense of moving around, not necessarily with a clear direction.

So, Noah walks with God, but he’s never quite sure where he is going. We are told that Noah’s ark comes eventually to rest on the mountains of Ararat.

Ararat is a mountain range between Turkey and Armenia, and supposedly those who believe in the historical reality of the flood narrative claim to have found remnants of the ark in that area.

But the Torah tells us that the ark simply came to rest on Mount Ararat – never that Noah was told specifically to look out for this mountain range or to head for it. Maybe God had a plan for the ark – but as far as its occupants were concerned, it floated aimlessly until it simply hit the highest ground there was as the flood waters were receding.

By contrast, Abraham at this beginning of this week’s parashah is told by God: lech l’cha. Often we focus on the end of this phrase, and there is huge amounts of discussion to be had on what is meant by l’cha – doe it mean ‘to yourself’ ‘towards yourself’ or ‘for yourself’? But today I’m interested in the first word: lech. Which means ‘go’ or ‘walk’ – from the same root as Noah’s walking or going. But now we have the verb ‘to go’ or ‘to walk’ in its simplest form and in the imperative form. Abraham does not simply walk back and forth without purpose. He is commanded to go from his birthplace, to a land that God will show him.

We might discern here a change of parenting style on God’s part. God begins by walking with human beings and expecting them to know what to do – and when they spectacularly fail, God’s reaction is to destroy them. In saying to Abraham: lech, God is recognising the need to be more directive with humanity – not simply to wait for human beings to do the right thing, but to start to teach us about it.

It doesn’t say that Abraham walked with God – it says that he walked at God’s direction.

Is that what it means to be Jewish, then – to be open to the moral call as Abraham is? To be willing to listen – to read creation in search of God’s voice telling us what it is right to do?

Noah is described blameless and righteous – but only by comparison with others who shared the earth with him at the time. He was not particularly good, just good enough not to be exterminated with everyone else.

After the flood, Noah sits and drinks alone, with not even his wife and sons to keep him company. Abraham is famed for his hospitality, inviting in guests to break bread with him.

Noah is told to build an ark that will protect him and his family.

Abraham is also responsible for bringing the light to others.

The Babylonian Talmud quotes a verse from next week’s parashah in which Abraham calls out in the name of God. The great Sage of the third century CE Reish Lakish tells us: Do not read Vayikra (and he called out) but rather vayakri (and he caused to call out) This teaches, says Reish Lakish, that Abraham caused the name of God to be called out by others.

How so?

After they ate and drank, Abraham’s guests would rise to thank him. He would say to them: But did you eat what was mine? No, you ate from the food of the God of the world. You should thank and praise the One who spoke and the world was.

Abraham does not consider the food to be his – he attributes the food to God and instructs his guests to thank God for the gifts that he has given. So, Abraham does not simply himself recognise God, but he seeks to tell others about the religious truths he has learned.

Finally, the difference between Noah and Abraham is pronounced in how they respond to the suffering (or the potential suffering of others). When God tells Noah what will happen to the rest of humanity – that they are going to be drowned in the flood, he doesn’t respond with protest. The Torah simply tells us:

וַיַּ֖עַשׂ נֹ֑חַ כְּכֹ֥ל אֲשֶׁר־צִוָּ֖הוּ יְהֹוָֽה׃

And Noah did everything the Eternal had commanded him. (Gen. 7:5)

Noah does not seem to stop to consider whether this is right. He and his family are going to be ok – maybe this is enough.

By contrast, when God tells Abraham of the plan to completely destroy the two cities of Sodom and Gemorra, Abraham responds:

הֲשֹׁפֵט֙ כׇּל־הָאָ֔רֶץ לֹ֥א יַעֲשֶׂ֖ה מִשְׁפָּֽט

Should not the Judge of the earth deal justly? (Gen. 18:25)

Rather than simply getting on with what he is told, Abraham objects, voicing the protest that many of us as readers may well be thinking: surely it is not right to kill a whole city because of what some of its inhabitants have done?

We could also say that Abraham does not do too well in this respect when God commands him to kill his own son. But we are talking about how Abraham is Jewish – not that he is perfect. And this is an important point – it can be easy and comforting to us to think that because something is Jewish it is in some way better or closer to perfection.

It is not about being perfect but about knowing that things could be better. And again we come back to the questions of: are we open to receive that moral calling?

Do we pull up the ladder and say the only thing that is important is that our family – our community – is served. Or do we stand at the crossroads and bring our light to the world?

When matters of justice and injustice arise, do we stand up for the rights and interests of others in society? Or do we simply ask the question is it good for the Jews?

The orthodox Rabbi and teacher, Y. Y. Jacobsen, relates this teaching to the festival that falls next in our Jewish calendar: Channukah. He takes this idea that Abraham not only called out in the name of God, but caused others to call out in the name of God, and relates it to the commandment that we not only light our Chanukah lamps, but that we place them outside our houses – or at least at the windows of our houses – so that their light illuminates the lives of others as well as our own. So that we do not save our light only for ourselves and those of our household.

Now, I suspect that what is meant by sharing our light with others may mean one thing to Rabbi Jacobsen, and something different to me. But the point is that Judaism demands of us that we at least think about what this imperative means.

So, let us contemplate what is means to be Jewish. Not just the privileges it gives us, but what it demands that we give to the world. Let us think about what it means to be Abraham, what it means to share our light with others, what it means to listen out for the moral call, and try to understand what God wants of us. For some of us it might already be clear – for others of us, it might take a whole lifetime to work out.