Finding a wife for Yitzhak should have, at first glance, been a fairly simple undertaking. Our Sages tell us that Avraham’s trusted and faithful servant, Eliezer, whom he sent to find a girl for Yitzhak, had an eligible daughter. Eliezer, our tradition teaches, was not just Avraham’s loyal servant, but also his loyal student and follower. He was likely among the most righteous men of that time. Eliezer wanted his daughter to marry Yitzhak, yet Avraham instructed him to find somebody else, to journey to Avraham’s homeland and find a girl from his extended family to become Yitzhak’s wife.
The reason given by the Midrash is startling. The Midrash teaches that Avraham told Eliezer, “Yitzhak is blessed, and you are cursed, and blessing cannot join curse.”
What does this mean? True, Eliezer was a descendant of Canaan, a grandson of Noach whom Noach had cursed. But why does that preclude the possibility of Eliezer’s daughter marrying Yitzhak?
Defining ברוך
The word ברוך – “blessed” – is one which we recite numerous times over the course of the day. What exactly do we mean when we proclaim that G-d is “blessed”?
This word ברוך is commonly understood to mean “praised,” and a ברכה is thus perceived as a statement giving praise to the Almighty for various things which He does or provides. But this is not accurate. The proof is a verse in the Book of Shemot in which Moshe promises, וברך את לחמך – G-d will “bless your bread.” Quite obviously, this does not mean that G-d will give praise to our food. Rather, it means that He will increase it, He will make it abundant. Similarly, the Torah elsewhere promises ברכה in our children and assets. This means that G-d will reward us with many children and assets. The term ברוך, therefore, refers to increasing, adding, or contributing. We say ברוך אתה ה' – “Blessed are You, O G-d” – because the Almighty embodies the concept of blessing. He is always giving and contributing, at every moment of every day. He gives life to all creatures and sustains them at every second. He is the penultimate manifestation of ברכה, of giving and contributing.
Each and every one of us is to live as a ברכה. When we wake up in the morning, the question we should ask ourselves is not, “What will I do for myself today?” but rather, “What can I contribute today? What can I add to the world? How can I have a positive impact? How can I make people’s lives better?” If we live with this mindset, if this is the goal and ambition that drives us, then our lives are a blessing.
There are so many ways to be a blessing. We can uplift people and make them feel good by showing them a sincere smile, or saying a simple kind word or compliment. A brief text message to a friend or family member can enrich their day. Even a good, tasteful joke can be a blessing by lifting people’s spirits and bringing them joy.
There are some people who excel in making others feel low and inferior, and then there are people who excel in making others feel empowered and encouraged. The people in this second group are blessings; they make a meaningful and beneficial impact upon the world by uplifting those around them.
I recall once a student in the school where I teach came over to me and mentioned that it was his birthday. I warmly wished him “Happy birthday” and proceeded to give him a berachah. I wished him that he should get married to a girl who is beautiful both inside and out, that he should earn a good livelihood, enjoy a happy life, and eventually march down the aisle at the weddings of his great-grandchildren.
It didn’t take much to give the boy this impromptu blessing, but he loved it. His face lit up. In those 45 seconds or so, I was a blessing. I made somebody feel good. In a small but not at all insignificant way, I made someone’s day happier. And when we live our lives looking for those opportunities, then we are a blessing.
The Minyan That Saved a Marriage
The story is told of a man who lived in a small apartment, and every Friday night for 44 years, he hosted a minyan in his home for the other residents of the building. This meant he needed to have his apartment ready and prepared for a large group of people every Friday afternoon, without exception. This was a major undertaking, but he happily hosted the minyan each week. His children occasionally asked him why he did this, and he never gave a specific answer, replying simply that having a minyan in one’s home is something beautiful. This was so important to him that in his will, he instructed his children to ensure that the weekly minyan in his apartment would be continued.
When this man passed away, an older man who lived in the building visited the mourners during shivah. He asked them if they knew why the deceased had committed to hosting the minyan. They replied that they had asked their father numerous times, and he never gave them a satisfactory answer.
“You mean he never told you?!” the man asked, bewilderedly. “Let me tell you what happened.”
He proceeded to explain that the Friday night minyan in the building used to be hosted by rotation, with each participant taking a turn to host.
“One Friday,” he recounted, “it was my turn to host. My marriage at that time was a disaster. My wife and I argued constantly. On that particular Friday, my wife burnt the kugel. She was very upset, as people would be coming to the house for the minyan and would smell the burnt food. She shouted at me for not paying attention to the oven, and threatened to throw my shtreimel out the window. I am pretty sure she meant it. I shouted back, telling her that it was her kitchen, and that I resented her blaming her mistakes on me. As we yelled at each other back and forth, the last thing we needed was some 30 or 40 people coming into our chaotic embarrassment of a home.
“I frantically called your father and told him that I had a problem. He calmly said that from that point on, instead of rotating, the minyan would be held each week at his home, starting already that Friday. And it was, nonstop for 44 years.
“Your father,” the man concluded, “saved my marriage.”
This is what it means to live a life that is a ברכה, that contributes, that enhances, that brightens, that helps, that makes a meaningful impact. Life is full of such opportunities, both big and small. We need to find them and seize them, so our lives will be a true blessing.
Earlier in the Book of Bereshit, Eliezer is referred to as דמשק אליעזר, which, on the simple level, means that he was from Damascus. On a deeper level, however, the Rabbis explained the word דמשק to mean דולה ומשקה מתורת רבו לאחרים – that Eliezer drew from the wisdom of his master, Avraham, and poured it for others. Eliezer was a great man, but he lacked the quality of creativity, contribution, uniqueness and innovation. He fell short of the status of ברוך not because he was not pious, but because he did not make a unique contribution. He simply took Avraham’s teachings and passed them over in their raw form to others. He was therefore deemed unsuitable to join Avraham’s family through marriage. Yitzchak imbibed Avraham’s teachings and then contributed new dimensions. Avraham instituted shaharit, and Yitzhak instituted minha. Avraham was characterized by the attribute of hesed (kindness), whereas Yitzhak was characterized by gevurah (strength). He wasn’t just a carbon copy of his father. He was unique and made a unique contribution. While Eliezer took Avraham’s teachings and passed them on, Yitzhak took Avraham’s teachings and added his own dimension. And thus Yitzhak was ברוך, and Eliezer was not.
Yitzhak’s soulmate was Rivka, who possessed this quality of ברוך. When Eliezer asked for a drink of water, she intuitively understood that he needed much more that. She realized that he had traveled a long distance with several camels, all of which needed water. Her response embodies the concept of ברוך, of seeing an opportunity to make a difference and seizing it.
Neither a Summons Nor a Compliment
One of the “problems” that people often face living in our large, close-knit Sephardic community is the large stack of invitations that seems to be ever present on our counters. Our schedules are jampacked with events – beritot, bar mitzvahs, weddings, sheva berachot, and so on. There are weeks when people have a function every night to which they are invited.
I chose to the place the word “problems” in quotation marks because it is hard to consider it a problem that so many happy occasions are celebrated in our community, and that people have large families and large circles of friends whom they invite. We can only wish that this was our greatest challenge. But I feel that this “problem” of an overflowing schedule of festive events provides us with a perfect example of what it means to live life as a “blessing.”
Most people see an invitation in one of two ways. Some see an invitation as a summons, requiring them to leave everything else they have to do and be at a certain place at a certain time. Others have the precise opposite reaction, viewing an invitation as a flattering compliment. “If this person thought about me and bothered to send me an invitation,” some people think to themselves, “then this shows that I’m important, that he really likes me.”
Both reactions, I am afraid, are selfish. If we see an invitation as an annoyance, as it takes us away from other things we would prefer to be doing at that time, or as a flattering ego booster, indicating to us that we are important, then we are looking at it from a fundamentally mistaken perspective. If these are the kinds of thoughts that enter our minds when we receive an invitation, this means our minds are focused solely on how this affair affects us. We are self-absorbed and excessively concerned with our own needs and interests.
An invitation is neither a summons nor a compliment. It is an opportunity. It is a beautiful chance for us to make a difference, to increase somebody’s joy and happiness.
If we receive an invitation, it means that we matter to the hosts. Nobody sends an invitation by mistake. Sometimes people make the mistake of forgetting to send an invitation, but if an invitation is sent, it is because the hosts thought that they would like the recipient to join them, because the recipient matters to them and is important to them. This is not a cause for arrogance and a feeling of importance, but rather an opportunity to enhance another person’s special event. If we matter, then we are adding to the host’s joy by showing up, by sharing a kind word, by extending a genuine blessing, by saying something meaningful. Even if we are able to stay for only ten minutes – which, as we all know, happens quite often – we can make a real impact by giving a blessing and compliment to the hosts. Anyone who has ever hosted an affair knows how much work and money is involved, how every detail is carefully planned and costs a pretty penny, and how special it is to feel that the investment is appreciated by the guests. When we attend an affair, we have a golden opportunity for ברכה, to turn our lives into a blessing by making a significant difference in somebody’s life.
And if we cannot attend, for any reason, we can still be a ברכה by sending a simple text message on the day of the affair wishing the host mazal tov and expressing how we wished we could attend. Something as short and simple as a two-sentence message can bring such joy to a person’s heart, and fill it with true ברכה.
One humorous personal story underscores the power of a simple text message to bring real ברכה. A week before my daughter’s wedding, I received a text message in the morning from three brothers who were invited. The message read, “Wow, Rabbi, the wedding was awesome last night. Thank you so much for inviting us!”
Quite obviously, I was perplexed. Why were they complimenting me on my daughter’s wedding which had not yet taken place?
They explained that they had made a mistake and thought the wedding was the previous night. They went to the hall, and quickly realized that they were at the wrong wedding. They wrote jokingly to tell me how much they enjoyed that other wedding.
It was funny, and it was also touching. I appreciated the fact that they made the effort to get dressed and attend, even if they made a mistake, and that they made a point of writing me to tell me about it.
That message did not take long to write, but it was a true ברכה, warming my heart at a very special time in my life.
Kamtza’s Mistake
The Gemara in Masechet Gittin tells the famous story known as “Kamtza and Bar-Kamtza,” the names of two men in Jerusalem who lived just before the city’s destruction at the hands of the Romans. A man hosting a party sent an invitation to his close friend Kamtza, but it was mistakenly delivered to Bar-Kamtza, whom he despised. Bar-Kamtza assumed the host wanted him at the affair, and attended. When he arrived, the host angrily and embarrassingly threw him out. To avenge his disgrace, Bar-Kamtza reported to the Roman authorities that the Jews were planning a revolt, and this eventually led to the destruction of Jerusalem.
The Gemara introduces this story with the statement, “Jerusalem was destroyed because of Kamtza and Bar-Kamtza.” As many commentators noted, the Gemara appears to cast the blame on both men – Kamtza and Bar-Kamtza, even though Kamtza plays no role whatsoever in this story. We understand that Bar-Kamtza bears responsibility for this catastrophe, but what did Kamtza do wrong?
One of the answers given is that Kamtza was wrong for staying home. He knew his close friend was hosting a celebration. He knew the host valued their friendship. And yet, instead of figuring that there was some mistake, he instead felt insulted and stayed home, embittered. Instead of bringing blessing by attending, he stayed home and brought a curse upon the Jews.
If we are ever not invited to an event to which we expected to be invited, feeling offended is a very childish reaction. The “blessed” way to react is to pick up the phone a few days before the event and call or send a text to wish the host a heartfelt “mazal tov.” Even if we were not invited, we still have the opportunity to bring blessing to the world, to make a difference and to have a meaningful impact upon somebody’s life.
Parashat Hayeh-Sara begins with the story of Avraham’s purchase of Me’arat Ha’machpelah so that he could give his wife, Sarah, a proper burial. Efron, the man who owned Me’arat Ha’machpelah, initially offered Avraham rights to the property without charge, but then indicated that he wanted an exorbitant sum – 400 gold coins – in exchange for it. In that verse, the Torah spells Efron’s name עפרן, without the letter vav which would normally be included in the spelling (עפרון). The gematria of עפרן, the name without the vav, is 400 – which is not only the number of gold coins Efron demanded, but also the gematria of the expression רע עין – “stingy.” Before him stood a man who had just lost his wife and wanted to purchase a burial plot, and all Efron could think about was how he could profit from the situation. Although he appeared very generous, in truth, he was interested only in his 400 gold coins. This is sheer selfishness.
When a person is celebrating a joyous occasion, we should feel happy for that person. Whether we are invited and would prefer not to be, not invited and thought we should be, or invited and flattered because of it, is completely immaterial. If this is our reaction, then we are being selfish like Efron. The proper reaction is one which has nothing to do with ourselves, and everything to do with our friend’s special moment.
Rav Aharon Kotler’s Promise
Many years ago, a Holocaust survivor who had lost his wife and all his children in the Holocaust lived in Boro Park, and was regularly visited by the great Rav Aharon Kotler. Rav Aharon would speak to the man to lift his spirits and give him encouragement, and repeatedly assured him that he would marry and have a daughter, and that he – Rav Aharon – would dance with him at his daughter’s wedding.
Sure enough, the man got married and had a daughter, just as the Rabbi said. However, when the daughter was ten years old, Rav Aharon Kotler passed away. He was unable to dance at her wedding.
Ten years later, this girl got married. At one point during the wedding, the father noticed some commotion by the door. He went over and saw that Rav Schneur Kotler, Rav Aharon’s son, had entered the room. The father approached him and asked why he had come.
“Just before my father died,” Rav Schneur related, “he told me that there is a Holocaust survivor in Boro Park to whom I promised that I would dance with him at his daughter’s wedding. His daughter is just ten years old, and it looks like I will not be able to fulfill this promise myself. Please, when she gets married, go to the wedding and dance with the father on my behalf.” Rav Schneur fulfilled his father’s request, so his father’s promise would be fulfilled. He joyfully danced with the bride’s father at the wedding.
This is a beautiful example of what it means to live a life of blessing, of giving, of contributing, of doing for others. When other people are celebrating a happy occasion, or, Heaven forbid, the opposite, this is an opportunity for us to be ברוך, to bring blessing to the world, to make the world just a little bit better.
“Blessings” Around the Clock
In truth, these opportunities arise all the time.
The Torah introduces the story of the search for a bride for Yitzhak by telling us that Avraham had aged: ואברהם זקן בא בימים. Curiously, this is the second time Avraham is described this way. Earlier, in Parashat Vayera, in the context of the angels’ visit to Avraham’s tent, which occurred 40 years before Avraham set out to find a wife for Yitzhak, the Torah writes that Avraham and Sarah were זקנים באים בימים. Why did the Torah describe Avraham as aged when he was 100, and again when he was 140?
The Keli Yakar explains that once Avraham and Sarah had a child, they became youthful. When people enjoy the company of loved ones, they are able to retain their joy and vitality more easily than when they live alone. Every family member and close friend we have in our lives contributes to our being happy, energetic and youthful. After Avraham lost Sarah, he again grew old. Without his wife, he was unable to retain his youthfulness and vitality to the same extent that he had previously.
Just by being a son or daughter, a parent, a spouse, a cousin, an uncle or aunt, a nephew or niece, a neighbor, a partner, a coworker and a friend, we can bring blessing to the world around the clock. Just being a part of other people’s lives, even a small part, can bring great ברכה to them, as long as we see these relationships as opportunities for blessing. A smile, a kind word, a tasteful piece of humor, and a small, simple favor can all go a long way towards bringing a blessing to people. Let us seize these opportunities, and try to live our lives in the most blessed way possible.