S.A.L.T.- PARASHAT VAYERA

By Rav David Silverberg

MOTZAEI

            Parashat Vayera begins with the story of the gracious hospitality that Avraham extended to three wayfarers who passed near his tent, who were in truth angels sent by God to inform Avraham that Sara would soon have a child (and, later, to rescue Lot from Sedom).  The Torah describes how Avraham, after greeting the guests, rushed to his herds, selected a choice animal, and gave it to his servant (or, according to some, his son, Yishmael) to prepare meat for the visitors (18:7).

            The Gemara in Masekhet Bava Metzia (86b) advances a different reading of the verse, according to which Avraham actually had three different animals prepared for his guests.  He wanted to ensure that each visitor would enjoy a “tongue with mustard.”

            Why did Chazal find it necessary to specify the “menu” that Avraham offered his visitors?

            Rav Avraham Pam noted how the Gemara’s comment might provide some insight into Avraham’s greatness, and, more generally, into what greatness really means.  It is commonly assumed that the more righteous people are, the less capable they are of relating to the everyman.  An individual who rises to lofty heights of spiritual devotion, whose mind is intensely focused on study and prayer, might be assumed to be unable to appreciate the pettier concerns of ordinary people.  The Gemara teaches that to the contrary, the greater a person is, the greater his sensitivity to the individual needs and preferences of all people.  Rav Pam remarked that Avraham himself likely did not make a point of eating tongue with mustard.  Presumably, a person of his stature was not overly concerned with the condiments.  But when it came to other people, Avraham ensured to provide condiments.  He appreciated the fact that other people might be more particular in their choice of foods, that culinary details meant more to his guests than they did to him – and he accommodated them accordingly.

            Greatness must not lead to aloofness.  Quite to the contrary, a great person must feel more connected to ordinary people than others.  Rather than resent and look disdainfully upon those who have failed to rise to his level, Avraham patiently and lovingly concerned himself with each person’s individual needs and likings, demonstrating what spiritual greatness really means.

SUNDAY

            Parashat Vayera tells of the three angels who visited Avraham and later arrived in the condemned city of Sedom, where they were invited into the home of Lot, Avraham’s nephew.  The Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 50) notes that in the narrative of the angels’ visit to Avraham, the Torah refers to them as “anashim” (“men” or “people”), while in the context of their visit to Sedom, they are called “malakhim” (“angels’).  The reason, the Midrash explains, is that “to Avraham, whose stature was great, they appeared in the image of men, but to Lot, since his stature was lowly, they appeared in the image of angels.”

            The common explanation of this Midrash is that from the heights of Avraham’s stature of piety, angels seem like ordinary people; they do not make much of an impression.  It is only from the perspective of ordinary people, like Lot, that angels are perceived as something greater than human beings.

            Some commentators (cited in Yalkut Yehuda), however, explained differently.  When the Midrash speaks of the angels appearing to Avraham “in the image of anashim,” it means that from Avraham’s standpoint, the angels may just as well have been ordinary people.  The generous hospitality and warmth he extended to the guests had nothing at all to do with their personal stature.  What mattered to Avraham was only that they were anashim, human beings, who deserved a place to eat and rest from their journey in the hot sun.  Lot, however, invited “malakhim.”  He realized that these strangers were not ordinary people, and it was for that reason that he extended an invitation.  Lot’s hospitality was reserved for those whose presence would bring him honor and satisfaction.    Unlike Avraham, who extended hospitality to “anashim,” Lot welcomed only “malakhim.”

This insight into the difference between Avraham and Lot reminds us to carefully assess the motivation behind the acts of chesed we perform.  At times we extend ourselves to do favors not out of genuine concern for the beneficiary, but for our own honor, to earn the respect of the beneficiary or of others who will hear of the favors.  Like Lot, we forget that all “anashim,” regardless of who there are, deserve to be treated kindly.  Avraham sets the example of kindness and generosity extended to all people, irrespective of any social “points” that are scored as a result.

MONDAY

            The Torah in Parashat Vayera tells of the three angels who visited Avraham’s home and from there proceeded to the city of Sedom, where they had come to rescue Lot and his family ahead of the city’s destruction.  Upon the angels’ arrival in Sedom, Lot saw them and invited them into his home.  The angels declined, but Lot persisted, and they finally consented (19:3).

            The Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 50), commenting on the phrase, “Va-yiftzar bam me’od” (“He urged them strongly”), writes, “Hikhnis bam af ve-tzara” (“He brought within them fury and distress”).  Chazal found in the word “va-yiftzar” an allusion to the words “af” (“fury”) and “tzara” (“distress”), indicating that Lot caused the angels anger and angst.

            Many different interpretations have been offered to explain the Midrash’s comment.  The Etz Yosef commentary explains that Lot staged an argument so that the townspeople would not suspect him of inviting guests.  As we see later in this narrative, the people of Sedom objected to the presence of foreign visitors.  Lot therefore had to conceal the fact that he invited visitors into his home, which he did by making it appear as though he fought with the three angels.

            The Zera Avraham claims that the Midrash refers to the “fury and distress” brought upon the people of Sedom, not upon the angels.  By inviting the three guests into his home, which led the townspeople to surround the house and attempt to kill them, Lot created a situation where the citizens of Sedom proved themselves worthy of destruction, thus sealing the decree that God had issued.  In this sense, Lot “brought fury and distress” upon the people of this city.

            According to the Yedei Moshe, the Midrash means that Lot caused himself anguish through his insistence on inviting the angels, which triggered a furious and violent reaction on the part of the townspeople.

            The Yefei To’ar explains this comment to mean that Lot reacted angrily to the angels’ refusal to accept his invitation.

            The most likely approach, perhaps, is that of the Maharzu commentary, which explains that “by pushing his fellow away from his will,” one causes him “fury and distress.”  The Midrash, quite simply, criticizes Lot for pressuring the angels to come to his home.  They had their reasons for refusing; as it turned out, visiting Lot’s home caused a good deal of trouble.  Lot may have thought he was being magnanimous and gracious by pushing his invitation upon the visitors, but in truth he caused them “fury and distress.”

            If so, then the Midrash here conveys a simple lesson relevant to offering favors: don’t nudge.  Many times, people who offer a favor react inappropriately when their offer is refused.  They feel insulted, slighted and resentful, and, like Lot, they choose to push the issue, as though they need to prove to the intended beneficiary that they are capable of helping.  What ends up happening is that they cause “fury and distress,” rather than assisting.  Even if the initial offer is made with a sincere desire to help, the persistence is often an attempt to defend one’s pride, at the expense of the other person’s dignity and sense of independence.  The Midrash perhaps seeks to remind us to take “no” for an answer, to respect other people’s right to refuse the assistance we would like to offer them.

TUESDAY

            Commenting to the first verse in Parashat Vayera, Rashi cites a passage from the Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 42:8) that has perplexed many later writers.  The Midrash relates that after God commanded Avraham to undergo circumcision, Avraham consulted on the matter with his three comrades – Aner, Eshkol and Mamrei.  Among the three, the Midrash tells, only Mamrei advised Avraham to proceed with the berit mila.  In reward, God appeared to Avraham after the circumcision in “Elonei Mamrei” – the “plains of Mamrei” – as the Torah says in the beginning of Parashat Vayera.  The privilege of having a prophetic revelation occur on his property came to Mamrei as a reward for encouraging Avraham to perform the mila.

The obvious question arises to why Avraham would have found it necessary to consult with anybody as to whether he should comply with the divine command.  Could we imagine Avraham refusing to undergo circumcision based upon the decision of his three friends?

            One simple answer, perhaps, as noted by Rav Mordechai Gifter in Pirkei Torah, is that Avraham felt it appropriate to discuss the matter with his comrades despite having already decided to go through with the mila.  Avraham realized that the circumcision would affect his relationship with Aner, Eshkol and Mamrei.  A permanent symbol on his body of his relationship with God meant a certain separateness from other people.  The circumcision indicated the Avraham’s descendants would constitute a separate, independent nation that would stand apart from the rest of the world.  Earlier in Sefer Bereishit (14:13), the Torah introduces Avraham’s three comrades as “ba’alei berit Avraham” – people who had made an alliance, or “covenant,” with Avraham.  Now, God called upon Avraham to make a new “berit,” to enter into a covenant with Him, which would, on some level, undermine his “berit” with Aner, Eshkol and Mamrei.

            Avraham therefore felt obligated to first discuss the matter with his close allies – not to get their permission, but to inform them of what would be happening.  We might draw a comparison between this comment of the Midrash and Rashi’s comments to Bereishit 1:26 regarding the creation of Adam.  Based on a passage in the Gemara (Sanhedrin 38b), Rashi writes that God “consulted” with the angels before creating a human being, realizing that the angels may feel envious of Adam.  Here, too, it is inconceivable that God’s decision would have depended upon the consent or support of His own creatures.  Rather, as Rashi writes, God demonstrated “derekh eretz” (proper manners) by informing the angels of something that would occur and that would directly affect them.  Similarly, Avraham saw it as his responsibility to discuss the berit mila with his allies before undergoing this procedure.  And while Aner and Eshkol urged Avraham not to perform the circumcision, Mamrei encouraged him, and for this he was rewarded.

            The story of Avraham’s “consultation” is instructive in exemplifying true friendship.  Avraham’s decision to meet with his comrades prior to his circumcision – which, as we saw, was likely modeled after God’s “consultation” with the angels – clearly demonstrates the degree of consideration and sensitivity owed to friends.  Avraham regarded his friendship with Aner, Eshkol and Mamrei so highly that he felt compelled to share with them any information that may affect that relationship.  But additionally, the reward given to Mamrei underscores the significance of the position he expressed to Avraham, encouraging him to undergo the berit mila.  Although the circumcision would adversely affect Avraham’s relationship to him, Mamrei nevertheless put his confidant’s needs and interests ahead of his own, and urged Avraham to proceed.  A true fiend is genuinely concerned about the concerns of the other.  This kind of friendship is built not upon expediency or pursuing personal interests, but rather upon sincere respect, admiration and concern for one another.  Mamrei, Avraham’s true friend, encouraged Avraham to do what was best for him, regardless of how it would impact upon their friendship.

WEDNESDAY

            The final section of Parashat Vayera tells the famous story of akeidat Yitzchak, when God tested Avraham by commanding him to slaughter his son, Yitzchak, as an offering.  God eventually withdrew the command after seeing that Avraham was prepared to proceed with this ritual to fulfill God’s will.

            When God first spoke to Avraham to issue this command, Avraham replied, “Hineini” (“Here I am” – 22:1).  Commenting on this word, Rav Avraham ben Ha-Rambam writes in his Torah commentary, “It seems that underlying his (of blessed memory) response of ‘Hineini’ is the fact that he was prepared at the time of the calling, preparation which testifies to the understanding he had before the calling…”  Following the teachings of his father, the Rambam, Rav Avraham works on the assumption that nobody can receive prophecy without prior rigorous intellectual preparation.  Avraham’s declaration of “Hineini” immediately upon hearing God call to him reflects his preparedness for prophecy, the fact that his mind had been ready to receive a prophetic message.  Rav Avraham proceeds to note the distinction between Avraham’s response and that of Adam, when God spoke to him in Gan Eden after he partook of the forbidden tree.  Whereas Avraham responded, “Hineini,” Adam responded, “I was frightened, for I am naked, and so I hid” (3:10).  Avraham lived in a state of preparedness, ready to receive and obey God’s word; Adam, however, was caught off guard, and was frightened upon hearing God’s voice.

            Rav Avraham ben Ha-Rambam’s comments relate to the specific context of the preparations required for prophecy, but they may convey a broader message, as well.  We must live our lives in a state of constant preparedness, ready to fulfill God’s commands.  We never know what circumstances might arise, what kind of unexpected tests will come our way at any moment, and what obligations and responsibilities will suddenly fall upon us without warning.  When Adam heard God speak, he was caught off guard, and thus felt frightened and intimidated.  By living each day with a sense of mission and obligation, standing prepared and ready to accept any obligations God sends our way, we will be able to respond, as Avraham did, with the declaration of “Hineini.”  We will be able to rise to even life’s most difficult occasions with confidence and resolve, and meet all the challenges that come our way.

THURSDAY

            We read in Parashat Vayera of the birth of Yitzchak and the tensions that arose between him and Yishmael, Avraham’s older son who had been born fourteen years earlier to Sara’s maidservant, Hagar.  Sara urged Avraham to send Hagar and Yishmael away from the home, and God commanded Avraham to comply with Sara’s wishes.  The Torah writes that after leaving Avraham’s home, Hagar and her son wandered “in the wilderness of Be’er Sheva” (21:14).

            The Meshekh Chokhma comments that Hagar’s decision to go to the area outside the city of Be’er Sheva was not incidental.  Later, in Parashat Vayeitzei, we read of the famous dream that Yaakov dreamt upon leaving Be’er Sheva to flee from his brother.  The site of this dream, as Yaakov acknowledged upon awakening, was the “gate to the heavens” (28:17), a place uniquely suited for the acceptance of prayer.  Indeed, the Gemara in Masekhet Chulin (91b) comments that Yaakov specifically went to that spot to pray, because it was the site where his fathers – Avraham and Yitzchak – prayed.  And it appears from the Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 69:7) that this site was outside the city of Be’er Sheva.

            Accordingly, the Meshekh Chokhma speculates that Hagar went specifically to “the wilderness of Be’er Sheva” to pray at the site where Avraham regularly prayed.  She understood the spiritual significance of that site and decided to go there and offer her prayers to God.

            The Meshekh Chokhma adds that this theory may provide some insight into the angel’s comment to Hagar as her son dehydrated and came close to dying: “Do not fear, for the Lord has listened to the boy’s voice, at the place where he is” (21:17).  As Rashi explains (based on the Gemara in Masekhet Rosh Hashanah 16), God accepted Yishmael’s prayers because of his personal merits, because of his current spiritual “place.”  According to the Meshekh Chokhma, the angel sought to emphasize to Hagar that her son would be saved because of his personal merits, and not because of the intrinsic sanctity of the site.  In the Meshekh Chokhma’s words, “It [the angel] thus said that He [God] heard the boy’s voice ‘at the place where he is’ – and not because of you, that you settled facing the gates of the heavens.”  Certainly, praying at designated holy sites is significant and worthwhile.  The Gemara in fact tells that after Yaakov had reached Charan, he decided to return to Be’er Sheva in order to pray at the site where his father and grandfather had prayed.  Ultimately, however, it is not the intrinsic quality of the site that renders a person worthy of having his prayers accepted, but rather his personal merits.  God’s angel thus emphasized to Hagar that Yishmael earned salvation through his own merits – and not due to the “magical” powers of the holy site where she prayed.

FRIDAY

            Toward the end of Parashat Vayera the Torah relates the famous story of akeidat Yitzchak, God’s command to Avraham to offer his son, Yitzchak, as an offering, a command which God withdrew just as the patriarch lifted the knife to slaughter his son. On three occasions in this narrative the Torah employs the expression, “va-yeilkhu yachdav” (“they proceeded together”).  In the first two instances, the Torah describes Avraham walking together with Yitzchak, first as they approach the site on Mount Moriah (22:6), and then again after Yitzchak inquires as to which sacrifice Avraham intends to offer (22:8).  Rashi explains that in the first verse, the Torah seeks to emphasize that Avraham traveled to the site with the same poised and upbeat disposition as his son, who at this point knew nothing of what would transpire.  The second instance, Rashi explains, indicates that even after Yitzchak learned that he was to be sacrificed, he nevertheless went “together” with his father, with fervor and determination.

            In the third instance, however, Avraham walks not together with his son, but together with the two “ne’arim,” the servants who had accompanied him and Yitzchak during the journey.  The Torah writes that after God appeared to Avraham and commanded him to withdraw the sword, and promised to reward him and his descendants, “Avraham returned to his servants and they arose and proceeded together [va-yeilkhu yachdav] to Be’er Sheva” (22:19).  Yitzchak is notably absent from this verse, as noted by Chazal, who offer varying explanations for where Yitzchak went after the akeida (see Chizkuni).  The Torah here clearly refers to only Avraham and his servants, the three of whom traveled “together” from Mount Moriah back to Be’er Sheva.

            The Rosh Yeshiva, HaRav Aharon Lichtenstein shelit”a, noted the significance of Avraham’s traveling “together” with his servants back to Be’er Sheva.  Even after the intense emotional and spiritual experience of the akeida, Avraham was still capable of being “together” with his two servants.  The experience of passing the greatest of all tests, and hearing God’s promise of eternal reward for his descendants, did not sever Avraham’s ties with his loyal servants; it did not lift him to a different plane from where he could no longer relate to ordinary people.  He still managed to “return” to his servants and travel with them, “together,” relating to them on their level.

We might add that earlier in the narrative (22:5), we read that upon seeing the chosen site of the akeida, Avraham instructed his servants to wait with the donkey as he and Yitzchak proceed to the mountain.  A number of Midrashim (see Radak) relate that Avraham and Yitzchak beheld a pillar of fire rising from Moriah, but the servants (identified by the Midrash as Eliezer and Yishmael) did not see it.  Avraham told the servants that since they were unable to see the manifestation of God’s presence, they were not deserving of accompanying him and Yitzchak, and would have to remain where they were.  And yet, although they were not worthy of joining Avraham and Yitzchak on the mountain, Avraham nevertheless rejoined them afterward and walked “together” with them, and did not remain aloof and distant even after the experience of the akeida.

As we discussed earlier this week, Parashat Vayera begins with the story of Avraham’s hospitality to three wayfarers, demonstrating that despite his newly established berit with God, he was still insistent on – and capable of – relating to ordinary people on their level.  Now, at the end of the parasha, we similarly find Avraham remaining “together” with ordinary people even after an unparalleled spiritual experience.  He understood that the purpose of rising to great heights is not to remain separate and apart from the masses, but rather to return to them and be “together” with them, in an effort to elevate and inspire them.

***