Vayeira: Sitting by the Tent and Hoping for Guests

by Rav Yosef Naveh, Hassidic Educator and Torah Coach, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

This week's Torah portion of Vayeira (B'reshit 18-24) begins with this verse: "G-d appeared to him [our Patriarch Avraham] in Elonei Mamre, and he was sitting at the entrance to the tent, in the heat of the day." 

R. Natan of Breslov, in Likutei Hilchot Ishut, tells us the connection between the two parts of the verse: "In order to reach the high level of 'G-d appeared to him' – i.e., perceiving Divinity and closeness to G-d – a person must pass through 'sitting at the opening to the tent in the heat of the day.'"

Let us quote his words, and then explain them:
              "… but one who does not want to fool himself, but rather thinks truly about his eternal objective, does not allow himself to ever go backwards, no matter what. He rather remains and waits at the entrance for many days – as long as it takes. And even if he is not allowed into the tent, and the heat bears down heavily upon him – even so, he does not leave his place, but rather waits there at the tent of the righteous people until G-d has mercy on him – just like Avraham sat outside the tent in the heat of the day."  

In every person’s life there are ups and downs. There are states of mohin d'gadlut, “expanded consciousness” — when everything is bright and clear in his service of G-d, and he does what is required of him freely and with joy, loving his spiritual state. But there are also states of mohin d'katnut, "constricted consciousness," when one's thoughts and urges confuse him and cast doubts even on his faith in G-d; he might actually feel that he has no place in Judaism, and wonders what meaning and value his actions have.

Indeed, in moments of mohin d’katnut, when a person feels unwanted before G-d, there is a danger that he will seek vitality and excitement outside of Torah and Judaism, imagining that there he will find meaning and light in his life.

But he must be strong and of valor: sturdy and steadfast in his mind, determined that as long as his soul is within him, he will never abandon Hashem, no matter what. For this is what measures a person’s true greatness - that even when his yetzer hara (evil inclination) overpowers him with the burning heat of lust for forbidden pastures, as in "the heat of the day,” he will not abandon his place and will not retreat. He rather continues to “sit at the entrance of the tent,” waiting and hoping for G-d's salvation.

Generally, at times of mohin d'katnut, one's yetzer hara manages to convince him that Hashem does not care about him or what he does, and doesn't need or appreciate the "unimportant" things he does. And in this way, the person is led to abandon everything – even that which he can do well.

But the S'fat Emet, the second Gerrer Rebbe, teaches us that just like Avraham sat near the tent's opening, so too "a person must leave one little point open, and through it his entire body will be drawn after this illumination." 

That is to say: Mainly during the "downs" in one's life, and during the "heat of the day," he should make sure to leave at least a little opening, a point of connection to Hashem, from which, when the time comes, he will be able to return to the holiness of Israel completely. 

An example of this is found in the life story of the Holy Rebbe Rav Yitzchak Isaac Yehuda Yechiel Safrin, Rebbe of the Komarno Hassidic dynasty in Ukraine. He wrote about his own years of tribulations until he merited to have "Vayera," i.e., "G-d appeared to him." He wrote as follows: 

“This poor, afflicted man [myself] — a lowly and dark creature, trampled underfoot. ‘A thousand tastes of death’ I tasted in this world, and many troubles, poverty, humiliation, pain, and exile – I became like dust to be trodden upon… Know that everything you are about to read in my writings came only after years of toil and struggle. And only because I held firm did I merit what I merited."

And he continues: 

“[Finally] the heavens were opened for me, granting me a tremendous comprehension of the sacred unifications and the secrets of the Torah, to elucidate its mysteries and commandments. G-d in His mercy and kindness shines upon me from His light, His radiance, and His splendor of Torah and mitzvot — a truly wondrous light, a taste of the World to Come, beyond measure or description — to the point that I have become truly a new being. The tefillin shine upon me like the light of the seven days of Creation, I no longer feel any worldly sensation, and my mind has expanded with a joyful heart.”

[Ed. note: The message is thus: No matter how down you might feel, spiritually or otherwise, always remember to keep even a little window open to the joyous, uplifting possibilities that are always there. Do one mitzvah a day, keep one good friend who can influence you positively, keep positive thoughts always on hand – and when the time comes, they will help you return to your soul and to G-d."

Vayeira: The Binding of Isaac – 3700 Years Ago and Today

by Rav David Dov Levanon, Jerusalem Rabbinic Court, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

According to the approach that Yitzchak Avinu was 37 years old at the time of the test of his binding, this year marks exactly the 3,700^th anniversary of this historically defining event. How so very relevant it is this year!

As we read in this week's Torah portion (Vayeira) about the Binding of Isaac (Akedat Yitzchak), we poignantly note that the Nation of Israel is facing its own heroic, national Akedah test this year. Our people's greatness is being revealed in countless deeds of self-sacrifice, unceasing volunteerism, and general jumping in to save lives and offer help, to an extent that we possibly have never seen before.

We have heard this year an endless amount of stories of faith and heroism from families whose sons were killed in war for the Sanctification of G-d's Name, or who otherwise took part in the courageous fight for our existence here in the Land of Israel. We have heard from parents whose children are in cruel captivity in Gaza, yet who encourage the Nation of Israel in its present existential struggle to continue until victory, without negotiations with terrorists – and perhaps in this merit, the children will return home safely.

One story that we recall is that of the woman whose daughter was taken captive on that tragic Simchat Torah day. She brought a Torah scroll to her home, performed the mitzvah of separating and sanctifying dough, and heartfully and tearfully prayed to G-d for the sake of the girl's safe release. We all saw her on our screens, and it touched all of our hearts – especially her surprising final words of prayer: "O G-d, I love you!" What greatness of spirit to express such emotions at a time of her great pain. And then it happened: Within a few weeks, her daughter was miraculously freed.

From where do all our soldiers and mothers and fathers draw the strengths for such self-sacrifice? Let us recall the Medrashic story of Chana and her seven sons, whom she encouraged not to bow down to idols even though it meant their death. When her youngest son was about to be killed as well, she kissed him and said to him, "Go to Avraham Avinu and tell him for me, 'You bound up one son for slaughter, while I have given up seven! And you thought to do it, while I actually did it!"

Was Chana actually saying that she had surpassed the self-sacrifice of Avraham Avinu? I heard an explanation of this point in the name of the late saintly Rav Shach (1899-2001). He said that Chana meant that Avraham Avinu was the very inspiration for her deed; she learned this attribute of sacrifice for G-d from him – and that she carried out in practice what he taught her in theory! And in fact, it's impossible to explain the amazing national phenomenon of self-sacrifice, today and throughout our generations, other than by realizing that these are strengths that have been implanted in the depths of our souls, beginning with Avraham.

The Medrash concludes by saying that a Heavenly voice was heard praising Chana with the words from Psalms, "The mother of the sons is happy." What happiness could possibly apply here? It could be that Chana saw that her sons had merited a very privileged place in the World to Come – and it could also be, after hearing how bereaved parents this year have responded with such great faith, that she, and they, feel privileged to have had sons whose lives were so meaningful that, ultimately, they stood wholly for the sake of their nation. In this I heard an echo of that Heavenly voice…

 The entire story of the Akedah abounds with Avraham's fatherly love for his son, especially as evidenced by his frequent use of the word b'ni, "my son." When G-d originally told him to take and bind the son "that you love," Avraham answered, according to the Medrash, "Which one exactly? I love both of them!" Could it really be that he loved them equally, given that Yishmael actually had to be banished from Avraham's home? The answer is that his love for both his sons was infinite, and as such, there was no difference between the two loves.

How was Avraham's love for Yitzchak manifest during the Akedah? For one thing, just as Avraham answered G-d by saying, "Hineni – here I am, ready to serve You," he also answered Yitzchak with the same word: "Hineni, my son; tell me what I can do for you." That is to say, his love for G-d and for Yitzchak were the same. By agreeing to perform this painful act of the Akedah at G-d's bidding, Avraham was saying that he is not running from his love of G-d nor from his love of his son; the two are united together as one, in a profoundly deep and faith-based manner that our cold logic alone cannot grasp.

As the Medrash states: "When Avraham took the knife in hand, his eyes shed tears that fell into Yitzchak's eyes… – and even so, his heart was happy to carry out the will of his Creator." Love of his son and of G-d were united within Avraham in the source of his love for G-d Who, from His own love of Avraham, gave him his son – and there is no contradiction; crying and happiness at the same time.

May G-d help that in the merit of the sacrifices made by so many soldiers and others for the Sanctification of G-d's Name over the course of the war, and in the merit of all the volunteers who arose to help with great dedication wherever they were needed, and in the merit of our great faith in G-d – the prophecy of "In [despite] your blood, you shall live" (Yechezkel 6,16) should be fulfilled, in our generation.

And so may that of Zechariah come to pass: "With the blood of your covenant, I have freed your prisoners from a pit in which there was no water. Return to the stronghold, you prisoners of hope… I will restore to you a double promise." (9,11-12)

When Kindness is Evil

by Rav Moshe Leib HaCohen Halbershtat yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

What is true kindness? 

In this week's Torah portion of Vayera (B'reshit 18,1-22,24), we read of two angels disguised as men whom Lot kindly hosted in his home. Rashi tells us that he learned this blessed trait of welcoming guests from his uncle Avraham, our Patriarch Abraham. 

We then read of the evil S'domites who came to Lot's house and violently demanded that they hand over his guests for their own evil designs. Lot refused, as we would expect – but then he shocks us with his "solution" to the problematic situation: "Behold, I have two virgin daughters; I will bring them out to you and you can do as you wish to them. Just to these men do not do a thing, for they have come to take shelter in my home" (19,7-8). 

What is happening here?! Lot, the nephew of Avraham who lived in his house and from whom he learned how to be compassionate and kind, is willing to abandon his own daughters to a frenzied mob?? Can there be a worse instance of corrupted behavior? 

Not only that, but the truth is that when Lot was given a choice of where to live, he chose, of his own volition, to live among these evil S'domites (13,10-13)! Is Lot some kind of schizophrenic? 

The Medrash Tanchum goes so far as to say that Lot apparently wished to keep his daughters for incestuous purposes for himself: "The way of the world is that a person is willing to kill or be killed to save his wife and daughters – and yet Lot gave them over by his own choice! G-d thereupon said to him: 'By your life, save them for yourself - and in the end, schoolchildren will laugh derisively when they read: Both daughters of Lot with child by their father (19,36).'" [See also the Ramban's commentary to this passage, particularly verses 7-8.]

From these words of our Sages, it is quite clear that Lot was not a particularly great tzaddik… He chose to live with the vile people of S'dom so that he could behave like them – even to the point of being willing to ditch his daughters; he had an evil heart and a distorted S'domite ideology. 

But then, how do we explain his proclivity to welcome guests, which is certainly a kind and blessed trait?

We read in the Book of Proverbs (Mishlei): Chessed leumim chatat, "Righteousness exalts a nation; kindness of nations – sin." (14,34). Rashi explains that the Gentiles would snatch from one and give to another, i.e., perform kindness in a sinful manner. We note that the singular "nation" in this verse indicates one special people, Israel, while the second part of the verse is written in plural, speaking of the Gentiles in general. 

The message of the verse is clearly to warn us from stealing, even if we then do kindnesses and give charity with what we have stolen. It is a Halakhic principle that a good deed done in a sinful manner [such as making fun of someone in order to build up someone else] is nothing more than a sin (Sukkah 30a). Rabbeinu Menachem HaMeiri wrote in the 13th century: "The kindness and charity done by Israel, and those imbued with their traits, is a great honor to them, because they do these deeds with their own property and from the labor of their hands; but the kindnesses done by the Gentiles and those who follow them are actually 'sins', for they steal from one and give to another…"

The Talmud (Bava Batra 10b) cites many Rabbinic explanations on the above verse from Proverbs. Their common thread is that idolaters and the like do not really perform good deeds, but rather perverse their ways and act in a praiseworthy manner externally, while their deeds are actually motivated by wickedness and have evil consequences. 

Lot, too: "Lot lifted his eyes and beheld the entire plain of the Jordan, well-watered… And he chose [that area] …" (13,10-11). Lot lives in Avraham's house, but was in reality focused on the area of S'dom. He chose to separate from Avraham and his G-dly path, and instead joined up with the S'domites. Lot chose the land of rivers and brooks – the land of men of evil and iniquity. 

After a while, his conscience began to bother him, for after all, he had lived with the truth for many years in Avraham's house. He did not know what to do – until he found a solution, the type of solution chosen by those who wish to follow their lusts but whose "good hearts" don't let them do so with abandon. He took one attribute from Avraham – that of welcoming guests with kindness – but did so only externally and superficially. He would act as if he was very kind, to the point that he would even abandon his daughters simply to protect his guests – and all this just to quiet his conscience and then continue along the evil path he had chosen. "The kindness of Gentiles is sin" – kindness that stems from their evil traits and with very ulterior motives, and not from walking in G-d's path, is no longer kindness, but rather cruelty and sin. They steal from their own families in order to help others, and are compassionate to cruel enemies while hurting their own countrymen. 

The holy Torah teaches us that even when we welcome needy guests into our homes, or any mitzvah, it must be done from pure motives, and certainly in a thought-out manner according to Torah principles. Only in this way will we merit to fulfill the above verse, "Charity will exalt a nation," and not, Heaven forbid, "Kindness of nations is sin."