When I was a little boy, I counted the days each winter leading up to our family ski trip to Colorado. Even the 12-hour drive from Omaha was fun. I got to sit in the “way back” of our station wagon, reading comic books while snuggled up in a sleeping bag that was draped over our luggage, ski boots, and other equipment.

My dad would pick me up from ski school at the end of the day. I remember begging him to take me out for one last run, even after the lifts had already closed. We would put on our skis and he would side-step up the slope, dragging me up the mountain as I clutched tightly to his ski pole.

Usually we cooked dinner in the condominium that my parents had rented for the week, but one night we’d go out as a family. I would fall asleep with my head on the table halfway through the meal. My dad would bundle me up and carry me to the car.

I think about my father dragging me up the hill and carrying me in his arms as I reflect on this week’s Torah portion, Parashat D’varim, which begins the Book of Deuteronomy. In it, Moses addresses the children of those who had left Egypt, the ones who would soon go into the Promised Land without him, and without their parents. In the opening chapter, he explains why their parents could not cross over with them: Even though they had witnessed the miracles in Egypt— seen the waters part with their own eyes—and even though God had carried them as a “parent does a child,” for all that, they still had “no faith (אֵינְכֶם מַאֲמִינִם) in the ETERNAL …” (Deut. 1:32)

The metaphor of God physically carrying us helps me to understand the meaning of faith—emunah. Faith is the belief that because someone has come through for you in the past, they will come through for you in the future as well. We have faith in dear friends or family because they have been there for us before and we trust they will do so again. We have faith in institutions because of longstanding relationships we’ve had with them, coupled with a belief that their leadership will steward the organization in a way that will not disappoint us going forward.

And faith in God? For me, it is born out of the gratitude I feel for the very existence of the universe. This world—all of it, not just planet Earth—is the ultimate gift. Its existence fills me with wonder and a sense that, no matter what might happen in the fullness of time, there is meaning, truth, and beauty woven into the very fabric of creation. I trust in the deepest possible way that in the grandest of schemes, everything has always been and will forever be—on a cosmic level at least—all right.

When I was a child, my father and my mother (of blessed memory) carried me in so many ways. Mom has been gone for 23 years. I pray that my father knows health and well-being for many, many years to come. But long after he is gone, long after I am gone, I have faith that the universe will continue to carry all that is, all that ever was, and all that will ever be, on and on and on.

Shabbat Shalom,

—Rabbi Yoshi