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The Israel Koschitzky
Virtual Beit Midrash
Surf A Little Torah PARASHAT VAYERA By Rav David Silverberg
In one of our editions of S.A.L.T. last year (www.vbm-torah.org/archive/salt-bereishit/04-9vayera.htm),
we addressed a comment in the Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 51:6) concerning
the angels' rescue of
Several writers addressed the issue of why the Midrash did not point to
another merit of
I have since discovered that the source of Rav Kotler's comments is the
writings of the Saba of Kelm, who indeed addresses this issue at length in this
context. He cites a number of
sources in Chazal that clearly recognize value – and even immense value –
to mitzvot performed with ulterior motives. For example, if money falls from a
person's pocket and a poor man finds it and uses it to sustain himself, the
money's original owner is credited with the mitzva of
tzedaka. Even more
revealingly, perhaps, Rashi, in his commentary to Parashat Chukat (Bamidbar
21:34), writes (based on the Gemara in Masekhet Nidda 61a) that Moshe was
frightened by the attack of Og because Og might have deserved victory in merit
of an act of kindness performed many years earlier. According to a Midrashic tradition, Og
was the "palit" (refugee) who fled from the onslaught of the four eastern
kingdoms against Sedom to inform Avraham of his nephew's capture. Now the Midrash, cited in Rashi's
commentary to Parashat Lekh-Lekha (Bereishit 14:13), writes that Og brought this
news to Avraham in the hope that Avraham would attempt to rescue Lot and fall in
battle, rendering Sara available for marriage. Despite Og's ulterior motives, his role
in the rescue of
Nevertheless, the
Incidentally, the Saba of Kelm also explained how this assessment of
****** Parashat Vayera tells of Sara's abduction by the Philistine king Avimelekh, and the punishments God visited upon the king and his palace as a result. God struck everyone in Avimelekh's palace with infertility until Avimelekh beseeched Avraham to pray on his behalf (end of chapter 20). Immediately thereafter, the Torah tells of the long-awaited birth of a son to Sara (21:1). The Gemara in Masekhet Bava Kama (92a) famously concludes on the basis of this sequence of events that "whoever requests compassion for his fellow and he has that same need is answered first." As Rashi explains, chapter 21 begins, "V'Hashem pakad et Sara" – "God had been mindful of Sara." Rather than writing, "Va-yifkod Hashem et Sara" – "God was mindful of Sara" – the Torah chose a form that suggests that Sara had conceived prior to the immediately preceding event recorded, namely, the cure of Avimelekh and his household's infertility. This thus shows that if one who prays on his fellow's behalf is in need of that same salvation, such as Avraham, who, like Avimelekh, could not have children (at least not with Sara), his personal need is provided first. Rashi cites this remark in his Torah commentary, however, as Rav Eliyahu Mizrachi notes, he employs a very different formulation. Commenting on the verse "V'Hashem pakad et Sara," Rashi writes, "It [the Torah] juxtaposed this section with this one [the story of Avimelekh] to teach you that whoever requests compassion for his fellow…" It appears from Rashi that this section, which tells of the birth of Yitzchak, appears out of chronological sequence, and does not belong at this point in the narrative. The Torah arranged this section here, immediately following the Avimelekh narrative, in order to teach this lesson regarding one who prays for his fellow and has the same need. Of course, the Gemara's point is precisely that the two events occurred in immediate succession – Avraham prayed for Avimelekh, and Sara immediately conceived. Why, then, does Rashi speak of the Torah specifically juxtaposing these sections, suggesting that this arrangement does not reflect the true chronological sequence? Rav Eliyahu Mizrachi then raises an additional question, one which Tosefot already addressed in Masekhet Bava Kama. Namely, Avraham and Sara had already been informed of Sara's imminent conception earlier in the parasha, when the three mysterious men visited their tent. The Gemara in Bava Kama appears to indicate that Sara conceived in the merit of Avraham's prayer on behalf of Avimelekh, and that otherwise it may not have happened. How is that possible, if they had already been told that Sara would deliver a child that year ("la-mo'ed ashuv eilekha ka-eit chaya u-le-Sara vein" – 18:14)? It is tempting to resolve both questions by claiming that Avraham and Sara's experiences in Gerar occurred before the angels' visit to their tent, when they were informed that Sara would soon bear a child. The principle of ein mukdam u-me-uchar ba-Torah, which establishes that the Biblical narrative at times deviates from chronological sequence, allows us to suggest that an incident may have occurred earlier or later than the point at which it is recorded in the Torah. Thus, one might wish to claim that the story of Avimelekh preceded the angels' visit despite its presentation after the story of the angels. This would easily explain Rashi's comments. The Torah juxtaposed the Avimelekh narrative with Yitzchak's birth to emphasize the link between them, as Sara's conception resulted from Avraham's prayers on behalf of Avimelekh. Historically, the incident involving Avimelekh occurred earlier, before the angels' visit, but it is recorded just prior to Yitzchak's birth to highlight the relationship between these two events. Of course, this theory negates the question of why the Gemara attributes Sara's conception to Avraham's prayers for Avimelekh if they had already been given a promise that she would bear a child that year.
However, such a theory cannot be sustained – or at least cannot be
enlisted to explain Rashi's comments – due to an earlier passage in Rashi's
commentary (20:1). Based on
Bereishit Rabba, Rashi presents two explanations as to why Avraham
settled among the Philistines, both of which relate to the destruction of the
region of Sedom. First, the
disappearance of this densely-populated area resulted in a marked decline in
travel through Chevron, where Avraham resided, thus decreasing his opportunities
for welcoming guests. Secondly,
Avraham sought to distance himself from his nephew, Tomorrow we will iy"H present some of the answers given for these two questions. ****** Yesterday, we discussed the Gemara's comment in Masekhet Bava Kama (92a) regarding the connection between Sara's abduction by the Philistine king Avimelekh and the birth of her son Yitzchak. God had punished Avimelekh and his household with infertility, which was cured only when Avraham prayed on the king's behalf. And since Avraham and Sara were themselves in need of this cure, God answered them first, and Sara conceived. The Gemara derives from here the general rule that "whoever requests compassion for his fellow and he has that same need is answered first." As we noted yesterday, Rashi, in his Torah commentary (21:1), paraphrases this discussion, but with a surprisingly different formulation: "It [the Torah] juxtaposed this section with this one [the story of Avimelekh] to teach you that whoever requests compassion for his fellow…" Rashi seems to have understood that the Torah's presentation of these two events – Sara's abduction and Yitzchak's birth – does not follow chronological sequence. This is, of course, difficult to explain, in light of the fact that Rashi himself cites the Gemara's comment that Sara conceived as a result of Avraham's prayers on behalf of Avimelekh. The Maharal of Prague, in his Gur Aryeh, suggests that Rashi seeks to explain not the sequence of presentation – which, as we said, follows the true chronological order of events – but rather the Torah's emphasis on the link between these two incidents. As we mentioned yesterday, the Torah introduces the narrative of Yitzchak's birth with somewhat unusual terminology: "V'Hashem pakad et Sara" ("God had been mindful of Sara"), rather than the more common form, "Va-yifkod Hashem et Sara." The Maharal contends that this wording, "V'Hashem pakad," points to a natural progression of events, indicating that what occurs now results and flows naturally from the events just recorded. Rashi thus explained that Sara's conception resulted directly from the immediately preceding verses, which tell of Avraham's prayers on behalf of Avimelekh. According to the Maharal, when Rashi speaks of the Torah "juxtaposing" these two events, he refers not to the arrangement of these two sections, but rather to the Torah's wording, which emphasizes the connection between the two events.
We might suggest an additional explanation of Rashi's comments. On numerous occasions in the Biblical
narrative, the Torah records events out of sequence in the interest of an
organized topical arrangement. For
example, Avraham's death is recorded towards the end of Parashat Chaye-Sara
(25:8), despite the fact that he was alive during the events recorded towards
the beginning of Parashat Toledot.
(Avraham died at the age of 175, when Yitzchak was seventy-five years of
age, and the births of Yaakov and Esav, which the Torah narrates in Parashat
Toledot, occurred when Yitzchak was sixty.) The Torah wished to conclude the story
of Avraham before telling the story of Yitzchak, and thus recorded his death
earlier. Likewise, Yitzchak's death
is recorded in Parashat Vayishlach (35:28), even though he was alive at the time
of the sale of Yosef, which the Torah tells later, in Parashat Vayeshev. (Yosef was sold to Returning to the story of Avimelekh and Yitzchak's birth, Rashi was perhaps bothered why the Torah did not present the entire story of Avimelekh in a single section. After the story of Yitzchak's birth and Yishmael's subsequent banishment from Avraham's home, the story of Avimelekh resumes with the Philistine king's visit to Avraham to offer a truce. This presentation follows chronological sequence, but from a topical perspective, seems a bit awkward, as the story of Yitzchak and Yishmael disrupts the story of Avimelekh. (Contrast this structure with the narrative in Parashat Toledot, which includes all of Yitzchak's encounters with Avimelekh in a single section.) For this reason, perhaps, Rashi found it necessary to explain why the Torah chose to present these two sections – the story of Avimelekh and the account of Yitzchak's birth – in juxtaposition to one another, despite the topical disruption. He explains that the Torah sought to emphasize the fact that Sara conceived as a result of Avraham's prayer on Avimelekh's behalf, and therefore disrupted the Avimelekh narrative to tell of Sara's conception and the birth of Yitzchak. ****** In the last two editions of S.A.L.T. we discussed the Gemara's comment in Masekhet Bava Kama (92a) regarding the connection between two events told in Parashat Vayera: Avraham's prayer on behalf of Avimelekh and his household, who had become infertile as a result of Avimelekh's abduction of Sara, and the birth of Yitzchak. On the basis of the juxtaposition of these two events, the Gemara deduces, "Whoever requests compassion for his fellow and he has that same need is answered first." In the merit of Avraham's appeal on behalf of Avimelekh that his wives and maidservants would be able to have children, he and Sara were blessed with a child of their own. As we mentioned, some writers raised the question of why this merit was necessary. After all, as we read in the opening section of Parashat Vayera, three angels had already visited Avraham and Sara and informed them of a son to be born to them the following year. If they had already been promised a son, what was added by the merit of Avraham's prayer on behalf of Avimelekh? Tosefot (there in Bava Kama) address this question and write that in the merit of Avraham's prayer Sara experienced an easy labor and delivery. According to Tosefot, Avraham prayed not only that God cure the infertility of Avimelekh's household, but also that He grant them smooth and (relatively) painless births. In the merit of this prayer, Sara, too, was blessed with a trouble-free birth. The Maharal of Prague, in his Gur Aryeh, explains much differently. In his view, Avraham's prayer on behalf of Avimelekh was included in the angels' prediction. Meaning, the angels' prediction did not mean that Avraham and Sara had already earned the merit of begetting a child the following year; rather, they foresaw that God would grant Avraham the opportunity to earn this blessing. This occurred in Gerar, when God told Avimelekh to beseech Avraham to pray on his behalf, in the merit of which Avraham was himself blessed with a child. Rav Simcha Bunim Sofer (son of the Ketav Sofer, grandson of the Chatam Sofer), in his work Sha'arei Simcha, suggests a different explanation as to what Avraham earned through his prayer on Avimelekh's behalf. As Rashi famously cites from the Midrash in his commentary to Parashat Toledot (25:19), Sara's conception immediately after her abduction by Avimelekh elicited cynical rumors regarding her pregnancy. The leitzanei ha-dor ("cynics of the generation") charged that it was Avimelekh, not Avraham, who fathered this child, and God therefore saw to it that Yitzchak would closely resemble Avraham, to dispel any such rumors. The Sha'arei Simcha suggests that Avraham earned this miracle through his prayer on Avimelekh's behalf. He appealed to God to restore Avimelekh's fertility knowing full well that this would allow the cynics to question Yitzchak's origins: if Avimelekh remained infertile, nobody could attribute Sara's conception to her experiences in Gerar. But Avraham nevertheless interceded on Avimelekh's behalf, and in this merit God shielded him from the charges of the leitzanei ha-dor. The Sha'arei Simcha's explanation brings to mind a clever reading of this Talmudic passage cited in the name of the famous Chassidic master, Rav Bunim of Pashischa. The Gemara speaks of somebody who prays on behalf of his fellow "ve-hu tzarikh le-oto davar," literally, "and he needs that same matter." The plain meaning of this expression means that the person praying shares the need for which he prays on his fellow's behalf. Rav Bunim, however, suggesting reading this phrase to mean that this individual "needs" the current crisis faced by his fellow to continue. "He needs that same matter" means that it is in his best interest for the current misfortunes befalling the other person to remain unresolved, as in the case of Avraham and Avimelekh, as discussed. The lesson of this passage is thus that one should pray for the welfare of others even if their welfare poses a certain threat to one's own well-being. In the merit of this prayer, God will see to it that "he is answered first," that his needs will be cared for despite the resolution of the crisis facing his fellow. In concluding this topic, it is worth noting that Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg, in his work Yalkut Yehuda, points to this comment in the Gemara as a possible reason why the section of Yitzchak's birth is read as the Torah reading on Rosh Hashanah. The more obvious reason, of course, is the tradition that Sara conceived on Rosh Hashanah. But in addition, Rav Ginsburg suggests, Chazal perhaps sought to impress upon us during the High Holiday season the importance of praying on behalf of all Am Yisrael, rather than focusing only on one's own personal needs. By reading of the connection between Yitzchak's birth and Avraham's prayer on behalf of Avimelekh, we are reminded to include the entire nation in our prayers, that we must beseech God on behalf of everybody, even those whom – like Avimelekh – we might have reason to dislike. As we come before God in prayer we are to forget our differences and overcome the hard feelings and resentment we might feel towards others, and appeal for compassion on behalf of everybody, and not only ourselves. ****** Parashat Vayera tells of the expulsion of Yishmael and Hagar from Avraham's home, as God had instructed. We read that Yishmael nearly died of thirst as he and his mother wandered in the arid wilderness outside Be'er Sheva, until, ultimately, "God heard the voice of the lad" (21:17) and provided a well of water to save his life. Rashi, commenting on this verse, cites from Bereishit Rabba (53:14), "From here [we may derive] that an ill patient's prayer is more effective than the prayer of others on his behalf." The previous verse had told that Hagar stood at a distance and wept, presumably referring to prayer. The Torah thus emphasizes that God "heard the voice of the lad," indicating that He answered specifically Yishmael's prayer, and not his mother's, because a patient's own prayers are more effective than those that others pray on his behalf. Many writers have noted the seeming discrepancy between this Midrashic passage and a comment in Masekhet Berakhot (5b). The Gemara tells that Rabbi Chanina paid a visit to the ailing Rabbi Yochanan, and asked the patient to give him his hand. Rabbi Chanina took hold of the sage's hand and he immediately recovered. The Gemara wondered why Rabbi Yochanan was incapable of curing himself in this supernatural manner, and needed Rabbi Chanina's assistance. The Gemara answered, "Ein chavush matir atzmo mi-beit ha-asurim" – "An inmate does not release himself from prison." This would seem to imply that a patient – even as spiritually gifted as Rabbi Yochanan – may be incapable of invoking divine intervention to cure his own ailment, while others are. This appears to run in direct opposition to the comment in Bereishit Rabba that a patient's own prayers are more effective than the prayers of others. Rav Eliyahu Mizrachi and Chizkuni suggest resolving the two passages by explaining that the efficacy of a patient's prayer depends on his ability to concentrate. The Gemara establishes that ein chavush matir atzmo mi-beit ha-asurim because ill patients are generally too debilitated to properly concentrate during prayer, thus hindering their prayer's effect. The prayers of their healthy peers are thus more effective in invoking divine compassion. This understanding of the Gemara's comment allows for exceptions to this rule. There may, indeed, be situations where a sick patient musters sufficient mental energy to pray with intense concentration, in which case his prayer will have a greater effect than those of others. Conceivably, then, Yishmael managed to pray with intensity despite his deadly state of dehydration, and thus his prayer was more effective than his mother's. The Maharal of Prague, in his Gur Aryeh, suggests a different explanation, distinguishing between prayer and other means of curing an illness. When it comes to prayer, a patient's own prayers are more effective, as the Midrash establishes. In the story of Rabbi Yochanan, however, Rabbi Chanina did not cure Rabbi Yochanan through prayer. He rather helped Rabbi Yochanan muster the physical strength and stamina to begin overcoming his illness, at which point the Almighty then assisted him and fully restored his health. This type of encouragement, the Gemara comments, is only possible through the efforts of one's peers. An ill patient is generally too despondent and discouraged to take the critical first steps towards battling the illness and returning to his normal state of functioning, and it is therefore the responsibility of his friends and family to come to his side and offer him the much-needed encouragement and will-power to fight the disease. Thus, the Midrash and the Gemara speak of two entirely different issues, and there is thus no conflict whatsoever. It should be noted that the Maharal's approach has origins already in the Hadar Zekeinim commentary (from the Ba'alei Ha-Tosefot), which answers this question very briefly, "Prayer is different." Finally, Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg, in his work Yalkut Yehuda, suggests a distinction between ordinary people and important leaders. While in most cases a patient's own prayers will yield a greater effect, the prayers offered by others on behalf of an ill leader might be more effective than his own prayers. Rabbi Yochanan was a religious leader of his generation, upon whose leadership scores of Jews depended. Therefore, the prayers offered by others had an effect that surpassed Rabbi Yochanan's own prayers. Thus, even if generally "an ill patient's prayer is more effective than the prayer of others on his behalf," when a distinguished leader takes ill the prayers of the community might be more effective in "releasing him from prison" than the prayers he recites on his own behalf. ****** We read in Parashat Vayera that before God proceeded to destroy the sinful city of Sedom, he first informed Avraham of this decision, and the Torah offers us a glimpse into God's "thought process," as it were, in choosing to disclose this information to Avraham: "For I have chosen him, for the purpose that he will instruct his children and household after him to follow the way of the Lord, to perform righteousness and justice…" (18:19). God here declares that He chose Avraham for the purpose of instructing his children to "follow the way of the Lord." The Rambam, in Hilkhot Dei'ot (1:4), advances a novel interpretation of this term derekh Hashem ("the way of the Lord"), claiming that it refers to the notion of the derekh ha-emtza'it, or "the doctrine of the mean." The Rambam here famously develops the theory that one should train himself to act moderately in all respects. One should be neither too stingy nor overly generous; neither short-tempered nor self-degradingly tolerant of abuse; neither gluttonous nor ascetic. (The famous exception to this rule is humility, with which one should conduct himself to the extreme.) According to the Rambam, the Biblical imperative of ve-halakha bi-drakhav, which requires one to "follow His ways," includes this ideal, to conduct oneself moderately with respect to all character traits. And it is to this ideal, the Rambam surprisingly contends, that God refers when He speaks of Avraham's role to teach his children to "follow the way of the Lord." The obvious question arises, where in this verse does the Rambam find any allusion to the doctrine of the mean? On what basis does he conclude that derekh Hashem refers to this particular value? The Rosh Yeshiva, HaRav Aharon Lichtenstein shlit"a (www.vbm-torah.org/archive/sichot66/04-66vayera.htm), suggested that the Rambam arrived at this conclusion on the basis of the subsequent clause: "la-asot tzedaka u-mishpat" ("to perform righteousness and justice"). The verse defines derekh Hashem in reference to the ideals of tzedaka and mishpat. The Rambam discusses these terms in his Guide for the Perplexed (3:53), where he defines tzedaka as "giving every one his due" and "showing kindness to every being according as it deserves." Mishpat, he claims, denotes "the act of deciding upon a certain action in accordance with justice which may demand either mercy or punishment." These two terms, according to the Rambam, differ from the word chesed, which refers to something beyond the call of duty, beyond that which is deserved or mandated by the basic principles of justice. With this in mind, Rav Lichtenstein suggested, we could perhaps understand why the Rambam interpreted derekh Hashem in this verse in reference to the doctrine of the mean. God speaks here not of chesed, abundant graciousness, but rather of tzedaka and mishpat, a balanced mode of conduct in which one executes his basic responsibilities and treats others as they deserve to be treated. This is the derekh Hashem, the approach of moderation, of finding the "golden mean" between extremes. Rav Lichtenstein added that this is by no means the final word on the Rambam's view of religious life. In the final chapter of Hilkhot Teshuva, the Rambam describes the experience of ahavat Hashem towards which each Jew must strive, comparing this emotion to the love between a man and a woman, whereby one feels "lovesick" for God. How may this state of emotional intensity be reconciled with the doctrine of the mean, with the ideal of a balanced, moderate approach represented by the terms tzedaka and mishpat? Rav Lichtenstein answered (as paraphrased by a student): The answer is that there is certainly some value in a person achieving a sense of religious fervor, of cleaving to God, but for this purpose he must build himself a lifestyle of "righteousness and justice." A person who strives to exist in a constant state of religious ecstasy, spending his life dancing in the streets with intense fervor, may well experience some lofty and uplifting moments in his Divine service, but he is also likely to end up in less desirable states… In order to achieve lofty levels of religious upliftment, a person must first establish an orderly, structured way of life in which he controls his personality traits and characteristics. When a person lives like this, he is able – at the appropriate time and place – to elevate himself and achieve a very high level of loving God and cleaving to Him. A life of moderation and control allows one to achieve – in a controlled manner – some special moments of extreme ecstasy. Thus, the Rambam requires that one first establish a lifestyle characterized by tzedaka u-mishpat, a life of structure, discipline and moderation. Only with this firm basis of discipline and control is one then able to move forward and pursue the lofty experience of ahavat Hashem, the kind of emotional fervor and spiritual intensity described in Hilkhot Teshuva. ******
In Parashat Vayera the Torah tells of the destruction of Sedom and its
surrounding cities. The Torah does
not explicitly specify the sin for which Sedom was annihilated, referring in
general terms to its iniquitous conduct (13:13, 18:20). However, the story told in this
parasha of the angels' visit to Sedom, where the townspeople violently
object to the hospitality extended to them by
A famous passage in Pirkei De-Rabbi Eliezer (25) reveals an
additional element that rendered Sedom worthy of destruction. The Midrash writes, "They issued a
proclamation in Sedom stating: Anybody who supports a poor person, a pauper or
foreigner with bread will be burned by fire!" The Midrash proceeds to tell the tragic
story of Professor Nechama Leibowitz commented on this story as follows: But the height of their wickedness lay not in the activities of individual transgressors but in the fact that such iniquitous behavior was clothed with a cloak of legality, raised to the level of a social norm… Their wickedness was not committed in secret, as something to be ashamed of, nor was it the product of a spontaneous outburst of the populace provoked by irresponsible elements. It was rather the law of the land, and whoever violated this savage law, and performed a good deed, prompted by his own instincts of pity, was condemned to be burnt at the stake. There was no remedy for such a society but total destruction. What sealed the fate of Sedom was not the attitude of insensitivity per se, but rather the institutionalization of this attitude as part of the law of the land. Selfish greed became the formally accepted norm, rather than an innate human instinct that people ought to struggle to overcome. Abandoning hungry peasants and allowing them to die of thirst and starvation transformed from an unfortunate result of indifference, to the society's ideal standard. Such a society, God determined, was beyond moral repair, and had to be eliminated. The story of Sedom is repeated not only in societies that formally condone corrupt behavior and lend it a stamp of legal approval, but also within the lives of each individual. Acknowledging failure or inadequacy leaves one feeling uneasy and insecure, and we often free ourselves from this discomfort through the retroactive legitimization of our behavior. Rather than endure the duress of a nagging conscience or the insecurity brought on by failure, we prefer to transform the failure into a success, by finding a basis for justifying our mistakes. Many people, like Sedom, clothe their corrupt behavior in a cloak of legality and ethical propriety in order to spare themselves the emotional burden of failure. This retroactive validation of improper conduct makes it virtually impossible to change. The first step to character refinement is acknowledging that one's character must be refined. The story of Sedom should thus remind us to assess ourselves and our behavior with honest objectivity, and to recognize the need to improve. We will then be able to begin molding our characters in accordance with our values and ideals, rather than molding our values and ideals in accordance with our characters. (Based in part on Rabbi Natan Slifkin's work Focus, Parashat Vayera) |