Tonight's subject is one of the most fundamental subjects we'll ever talk about. I wish I could have a subject like this every week. It's worthwhile to hear, probably more than once. We have the opportunity to talk about it, so with Hashem's help, we'll get a lot of clarity on it.
We read Parashat Vayera, an amazing story that we all learned in kindergarten about Abraham Avinu after he had his Brit Milah (circumcision) and was talking to Hashem. It says, “Vayera elav Hashem. Hashem appeared to Abraham,” as our rabbis teach us, to do the mitzvah (commandment) of Bikur Cholim (visiting the sick). He had a Brit Milah; he wasn't feeling well. And where was Abraham? The Torah says he was sitting by the opening of his tent, in the heat of the day. Our rabbis explain that each one of these words has meaning. The Torah isn't just telling us where he was and the temperature that day. It's irrelevant to us how hot it was. The importance of this Pasuk (verse), our rabbis teach us, is this: What was he doing when he wasn't feeling well? He was waiting for somebody to come so that he could do chesed (kindness) for them. And it was hot. Why was it hot? Our rabbis teach us that Hashem didn't want him to be troubled with guests while he wasn't feeling well. So He made it very hot, so there would be nobody traveling. Yet Abraham was sitting outside.
What's amazing is that the next Pasuk continues. Imagine now that Hashem is talking to you. Abraham looks up and sees what he perceives as three men. In fact, they weren't men; they were really angels sent by God. And what does he do? He runs toward them. In our lingo, when we say a person ran, sometimes we're exaggerating. Maybe he didn't run; maybe he just walked past. But if the Torah says he ran, it means he ran. If you can imagine a person sprinting in the Olympics, that's how he ran. It seems these people weren't even coming toward him. What is he running after? It seems they were walking, and he ran after them. Baffling. He bows to these people, strangers, and says, “Adonai. My masters.” Again, he thinks these are three Arabs, poor people, traveling. “My masters.”
Now remember who Abraham Avinu was. Abraham Avinu was an aristocrat. A few weeks ago, we learned that he came into a world war between kings and destroyed everybody. He was a great man in power, wealth, intelligence—in everything. Here he's telling these people, “Please. My masters, if I could find favor in your eyes, please, could you stay a little bit? Do me a favor. Please stay.” And then they accepted. Abraham rushed to Sarah. The Torah isn't exaggerating. The Torah says he rushed; it means he ran. But Vayomer, he tells them, “Hurry up. People are hungry. Go make bread. They'll have bakar (cattle).” That's Abraham. Abraham ran to the bakar. Again, it's a famous story. I'm sure you've heard it many times. From this story, our rabbis learn that it's so important to have guests: Gemilut Chasadim (acts of kindness) and Hachnasat Orchim (welcoming guests). It's so important that it's more important than talking to Hashem. Why? Because you see here that Abraham Avinu is talking to God. This talking to God is something we can't imagine. It's something spiritual, like Olam Habah. What's Olam Habah? You're close to Hashem. So you're talking to God, and all of a sudden you see guests. You tell them, “Hold on. I'll see you later. Let me go take care of these people.” How did Abraham Avinu know how to do that? You're talking to God, and you leave Borei Olam (Creator) for guests? Yes. You leave the greatest human experience possible to go and do a mitzvah of Hachnasat Orchim. Is that the right thing to do? Well, the Gemara says we learn from here that it is the right thing to do. If Abraham did it, it was right.
I would like to ask four questions, each one very fundamental, about what we just learned. With Hashem's help, we're going to answer all of them with one answer.
Question number one. I bet that if you were Abraham Avinu's neighbor, sitting outside on your porch, and you saw Abraham on his porch, you would witness what the Torah describes. Imagine: you have a hundred-year-old man sitting on his porch, relaxing. He's a hundred years old, he sees three people he doesn't know, and he dashes after them, bows to them, starts begging them to come in, and makes his whole house a wreck for them. There's no question in my mind that we would look at that person and say, “That person needs help. The guy's sick. Send him to be checked out. What is wrong with him? What is he running after? He's running; he's begging.” Where did Abraham Avinu learn that this is how he's supposed to do chesed?
You know, in life, when we see someone doing something extraordinary, we always ask ourselves, “Where did he learn that from? Why are you doing that?” We know extraordinary things don't happen by chance, just like that. Somewhere, somehow, this person picked it up from somebody. And if you look, you'll always find, “Oh yeah, his mother, her mother, or his grandfather was like that.” We always find something, because we understand that people don't just do crazy, beautiful things, or wild things, just like that. Where did Abraham Avinu learn that he's supposed to run after a guest? That's question number one.
Question number two. Let's say tomorrow we open a new organization to help poor people. We open our doors, advertise, and say, “Anybody who's poor, come. We want to help you.” And nobody shows up. Why is no one showing up? They know. If no one shows up, that means nobody needs you. Now, would that be upsetting to anybody? If we were really doing it, really trying to help people, would we be upset if nobody came through our doors? That would be the biggest party. What do you mean? That's great. That means nobody needs us. That means nobody is poor. That's a great thing. Would we be sitting outside our doors saying, “Oh, terrible. There are no poor people today. It's horrible. We have to find more. We have to find more poor people”? What's Abraham doing? He's by the tent, and there are no guests, and he's feeling very upset. Where are the people who need me? Well, why don't you be happy that nobody needs you? Why is that a reason to be upset? That's question number two.
Question three. You know, it's very strange, but God runs the world. God made it so that while He was talking to Abraham, the guests would come, right? God could have made it much simpler. He could have spoken to Abraham, and just as He finished, then they would come. Why did God play out the scene so that while He was talking to Abraham, while He was communicating with him, He brought these malachim? Why? It sounds as if that was some sort of a test for Abraham. It sounds like Abraham was being tested here. “Okay, I'm talking to you; here are guests. Do you know what to do?” Again, if it wasn't a test, everything could have happened at its proper time. Hashem finishes talking to him, and then the guests come. Why did it happen simultaneously? Again, it sounds like there was a test here for Abraham. Abraham was somehow supposed to know the answer: of course he's supposed to leave Hashem if he has a guest coming. Of course. Again, how did he know? How did he know that was the right answer? That's three.
Question four. This is one of the earliest times in the Torah that we see this great chesed performed by Abraham. Why is it that when Hashem decided to give him guests—“Okay, he's feeling bad; okay, we're going to send you guests”—He had to send angels? Angels, by the way, do not eat. If they ate by Abraham, it was all a fake. It was a sketch. It wasn't true. Hashem could have made it cool. “Oh, it's hot? Okay, make it cool.” People would start coming, and then Abraham could feed regular people. Why did Hashem want malachim to be fed by Abraham, when in fact malachim don't need chesed? Malachim don't need his food. Hashem basically sent Abraham the only people on the planet who couldn't benefit from his chesed. Wouldn't it be better to have real humans come, so that they would actually benefit from Abraham's chesed? Again, a very fundamental question.
So let's review. We have four questions. Question number one: Where did Abraham learn that one is supposed to behave like this when he sees a guest? Number two: Why are you upset that there are no guests? That means nobody needs you; they're fine. Three: Why did Hashem make it happen simultaneously, so that He's talking to Abraham and making him choose between Him and the guests? And number four: Why is it that when Hashem sent Abraham guests, they were in the form of angels who, in all truth, don't need any chesed done for them?
Last week we discussed the great potential each one of us has to see Borei Olam, to see the Creator and this world that He created. Through His creations, we'll see that He's there; the more we focus on and understand His creations, the more we see Him. It's really a long subject. Like I said last week, we should talk more about it, but it's not for this week. When one studies the world, pay attention: he doesn't only recognize that there is a God; he feels God, a lot deeper than that. When one studies the world, one can actually come to an understanding of what God is all about. Who is He? One can come to an understanding of why He created the world. Again, without the Torah or anything, through the creation, if one learns how to focus his mind, he can get all this information.
Just as a comparison, if one walked into an empty stadium, with nobody playing and nobody sitting there, and someone asked, “Do you know why they built this place?” you would automatically say, “Oh, of course. They built it to have events, so people could sit down.” “How do you know that? You didn't see anybody there.” “Oh, you can see from the architectural design of the building that's what it's made for.” You walk into a mall, even if you don't see one store open and nobody shopping, and you know clearly what the purpose of that mall was. So too, if one knew how to think and focus his mind, he would be able to see this world, this building that Hashem created. From the building that Hashem created, he would be able to understand why Hashem created it, who He created it for, and what its purpose is. All that can be learned from the creation. It's an amazing thing. Again, we need to spend a lot of time on that. Tonight, we'll touch on it a little bit, but it's a long study and worthwhile, because we're reliving Abraham Avinu.
Abraham lived in a world where, if you can imagine, unlike most of us, he was thinking. See, it's not that most of us don't know how to think. Most people don't think. But if one stopped and thought, he would find a lot of things that he would never have thought of or known if he hadn't thought about them. Abraham Avinu sat and looked at the world we live in.
Now, he understood that there's a Borei Olam, a Creator, like we discussed last week. Okay. Now, why did God create the world? Why? Well, let's see. What type of God, what type of Middot (attributes), does God have? How am I supposed to know that? I don't know God. I didn't see Him. But wait, hold on. Isn't God the Creator of the entire world, and doesn't He give us everything? Yes. So let's see: How does He treat us? You know, nutritionists say that a person eats—I don't know how many pounds of food a day—but at the end of the day, his body retains this much of what it needs: a little bit, a little capsule of certain vitamins. That's really all the body takes. The rest is waste. So let's think. Borei Olam created a human being who was basically able to survive on a little capsule. And yet we look at the world and see apples, oranges, bananas, strawberries, peppers, fish, meat, and all kinds of food. Totally unnecessary. Totally, completely unnecessary. For our survival, we could have survived very well for the rest of our lives on grain. So why did the Creator of the world make so many different types of fruits and vegetables, with different colors and different tastes? You know, in the U.S. alone, I once saw an interesting fact: they grow over 800 different types of apples. Have you heard something? How many apples do you think there are? In the U.S. alone, over 800 different types of apples, with different looks and different tastes. If you go to the fruit store, it's amazing. You want sour, you want sweet, you want blue, you want red, you want whatever you want. It's all there. Now, why did God make that? Remember, if it's a creation, Hashem made it. Who did He make it for? Why did He make it?
I'll give you an example. A person who's very hungry, hasn't eaten in three days, walks along a block and knocks on the doors of three different people. Let's compare each one's reaction. He knocks on door number one and says, “I'm sorry, I'm very hungry. I haven't eaten. I'm dying. Could you please help me out?” The person behind door number one tells him, “I'm sorry, I don't have time for you. Maybe come back at a different time.” He closes the door in his face. Now, certainly, that's not called chesed. We're not going to deal with number one.
He gets to number two, knocks on the door, and tells the person the same story. The person behind door number two says, “I'm sorry, I feel bad. I'm going to eat.” He comes inside and sits down at the kitchen table, opens the refrigerator, brings out whatever he has cooked, leftovers, whatever it is, heats it up, and gives it to him. He gives him water and whatever he needs. After a half hour, the person says, “You know what? I'm satisfied. I really appreciate it.” “Okay. Kavod (honor.” He walks him out like a gentleman. Door number two: very nice, very nice chesed. If I did that for any of my guests, Abraham Avinu—
Door number three: the person knocks, tells the same story, and the homeowner says, “Oh, please come in.” He doesn't take him to the kitchen; he puts him in the dining room. “What do you like to eat?” “Oh, you like fish? Okay, let me go make some for you. Can I make you some pasta? Some salad? Some soup?” After he eats, he gives him fruit. He gives him desserts. “Can I get you a cappuccino? What do you like?” After a half hour, the person says, “I'm satisfied. I'm done.” “Okay.” He walks him out very nicely. Now, what's the difference between the guy behind door number two and the person behind door number three? What is the fundamental difference between them? We know what they did differently. That's not my question. In their approach, why do they approach things differently? What was their attitude? What was behind their attitude? The answer is one major focal point. Door number two showed that he was interested in that person's survival. Yes, he cared. He cared about his survival. He wanted him to survive. So long as that person might not survive, it hurt him. So he brought him to his house and gave him whatever was necessary for survival. Good. Door number three showed that he was interested not only in the guy's survival, because if he was only interested in survival, he could give him the basics. He obviously showed that he wanted him to enjoy himself. He wanted him to be happy and survive. That's why he gave him all the extras.
Borei Olam: in this world that we live in, we're guests. You and I—we're all guests here. We couldn't make the smallest fruit or the smallest element. We can go to the store and buy it. Sometimes we feel good that we bought it, like we actually did something. At the end of the day, we can't make anything. We're the ones who can't make anything. We're put on this planet. We're guests. And there's a host. There's a person, or a being, behind this door who is sending us things. How does the host of this world treat his guests? Well, let's see. If he only cared about their survival, then he wouldn't have given them all the extras. Imagine the world we have: everything, except Hashem forgot to make spices. Imagine a world without spices. What would a world without spices be? A disaster. Everything in the world, but no spices. Remember, spice is a creation. Spices aren't some artificial thing you just thought of. Spices are something the Creator of the world thought about when He created the world: “I want my creation, my guests, to have not only apples and strawberries, not only pasta and fish. I want them to have spices so they can enjoy it in different ways.” We could have lived without spices, but Hashem wanted to give us total enjoyment in this world.
Abraham Avinu was a guest in this world and saw that the Creator of the world is a Baal Chesed. He just wants to make others happy. That's number one. He learned that from the world. Look around. You see it.
But it goes deeper. Hashem's chesed is different from the chesed that you and I are used to. Ninety-nine percent of people in the world do the following type of chesed: people want to help because someone needs help. That means I see people who need food, money, or clothes, so I get inspired to do chesed to help them. Now, in a perfect world, if there were nobody who needed money or clothing, then beautiful. I wouldn't need to help anybody. Great, everyone's good. That's the way the world views chesed, which is very nice. It's a good thing. It's good chesed. But in the Torah, or at Abraham's level, chesed took a whole different turn. And it's a major difference. Because let's look again: What was Hashem's chesed? Did Hashem give us apples and oranges and pears because we needed them? Hashem could have made it so that we didn't need them. Hashem made us need them so that He could give them to us. You see, if our palate needs spices to enjoy food, Hashem made that palate. So He made us lack these things in order to give them to us. Because He could have made it so that we wouldn't appreciate these things. I'm sure many Muslims don't appreciate spices. They don't care. They're not missing spices. It won't help them. But Hashem made us lack them in order to give them to us. That's a whole different understanding of kindness. It's not because somebody needs me that I have to give him. That's not Hashem's chesed. No. I want to give someone something, so I made him lack it so I can give it to him. Chesed has to do with me, not with him. That's the big difference in how you focus.
You know, there's a natural human instinct. This is my own theory, but I think it's true: people like to copy others. I remember the old days. You'd walk into a gym and see some guys come in with a very fancy jersey of a very famous basketball player, with his sneakers, with his name on it. You look at the guy, and he legit thinks he's that person. He thinks he's flying with the ball. He's still the same player. It doesn't change one iota. Usually, the worst players got those jerseys. The good guys, they don't need that. Okay. Let's think about that. It's not only about basketball. It's about football. It's not only about sports. It's about anything. Some superstar whom people respect for whatever reason puts on a jacket with a certain name. So now everyone wants to put on that jacket. What's wrong with people? What is it about people like me and you that we love to copy what someone great is wearing or doing? Why? I mean, we know that at the end of the day we're not that person. So what's this glamour that makes us want to be like that person? Good question. The answer, or at least what I think, is that Hashem implanted inside every single human being a natural desire to want to be like the person he respects, or to be like something he respects. If you respect a basketball player for the way he plays, then naturally you want to be like that person. Maybe not the person, or at least on the basketball court. If you love whoever that person is, you want to be like them. It's a natural feeling. Just as a person can't say, “Oh, that person is jealous. Where do you learn that from?” You don't have to learn jealousy. Hashem put jealousy inside every one of us. We have to control it. It's natural. So too, wanting to be like somebody is a natural instinct. When we respect something, we want to be like it.
In fact, the greatest form of respect that you can give a human being is to want to be like them. Imagine your children, by the grace of Hashem, one day coming home and saying, “Mom, Dad, you know what I want to be? I want to be just like you.” There's no greater respect to a parent than a child who wants to be like them. It's not, “I want those clothes”; it's, “I want to be like you.” That's respect, and it's natural. The only question is: What do we respect? The challenge isn't whether we're going to emulate this or that. The challenge is who we respect. Then we'll automatically want to be like that.
Hashem told Abraham, “Walk before Me, and you'll be complete.” The Derech Hashem says something very deep, a very deep thought, but it's worthwhile to think about it. The Derech Hashem writes: For what reason did Hashem create the world? Because Hashem wanted to give. To give what? To give the greatest gift He can give. What's the greatest gift that God can give? The greatest thing there is in the world. What is that? God Himself. Let me repeat that. I lost you. God is the greatest good, and when He gives a gift, it's the greatest gift. So the greatest gift is to give of Himself. How does God give of Himself? You know how? He created us, and He gave us the opportunity to be like Him.
And that's what the Torah is all about, by the way. The Torah is all about what God is. This is how God thinks, what God does, how God treats people, what God thinks about marriage, and what God thinks about bringing up children. When a person follows the Torah, you know what we're being? We're doing what God does. That is the Torah. The Torah is the thoughts of God, and God has given us opportunities to be like Him. That's what He told Abraham. He said, “Walk before Me.” Like the sefarim (books) say, look at Me. Look at how I behave, how my Middot are in the world, and then you'll be perfect. That's what we say in Kippur. We say the 13 Middot. Why? Because the purpose of those Middot is to learn what Hashem does, not just merely to praise God. Those Middot are what are going to make us perfect. The more we know what God is, the more we're going to emulate Him and be like Him.
Abraham Avinu's chesed wasn't, “Oh, somebody needs me; I have to help him.” Abraham's chesed was, “I want to be like God.” God's chesed isn't because someone needs something. It's because Hashem wants to do good. Before Hashem created the world, He could have chosen not to create it. Why did He create someone to do chesed? There was no creation. Don't create anyone. No. Hashem's chesed is, “Now I want to do chesed. I want to do good to somebody else because I want to do it.” It has nothing to do with them, nothing to do with the fact that they need me. It's because I want to do it. That is chesed. That's what Abraham Avinu's chesed was all about.
We'll go back to our questions. When we look at it now, we see it's like a beautiful picture. We asked, “How did Abraham know that when there are guests, he was supposed to run after them?” The answer is that he knew from his Creator. God literally runs after us to give us things. Why? Because that's what greatness is. The perfection of being like God is to run after others and give yourself the opportunity to do something for them. That's what the Gemara says: The poor person does a lot more for the ashir, a wealthy person, than the wealthy person does for the poor. The poor person does much more for the wealthy than the wealthy does for the poor. What the ani, a poor person, is doing is giving someone an opportunity to be like God. God could take care of the ani. It's not you; it's somebody else. But the ani is giving you and me the chance to be godly, to be like Hashem. That's how Abraham knew that when you see a guest, you go and beg him to come. “Who's doing more for whom? Please, come to me. Without you, I can't be perfect. I can't be great. Please come. Can I feed you?” That answers our first question.
We asked, “How come Abraham was in pain because there were no guests? Nobody needs you. You should be happy.” That's if you do the chesed of the regular world. With the chesed of the regular world, if nobody needs you, then don't do it. But Abraham's chesed had nothing to do with him. It had to do with being like God again. So when there's nobody out there to help, who's missing? I'm missing. I can't help anybody. How terrible is that? How terrible is living in a world where I can be great and perfect and be like God, and I can't do it? I don't have the tools. I'm sitting outside, hoping somebody will come for himself. It's personal. That's question two.
We asked, “How was Abraham expected to know that when you're talking to God, you're supposed to leave God and tend to your guests? How are we supposed to know that?” There's a simple answer. This is again my own thought, but I think it's emet (truth). There's one thing greater than talking to God. What is that? To be like God. Talking to God is great. It's a great experience. But to be like God? That's even greater. You're being like Hashem. So if Hashem is talking to you, or you could be like Hashem, which one is better? Which one is more respectful? Which one is more of an accomplishment? To be like Hashem. Abraham figured it out. It's clear.
Listen to this beautiful answer that I saw once. Hashem is sending us a message. The first, the greatest thing we ever saw, and probably ever will see, was this story with Abraham. The Torah is setting a precedent for history. And who is the recipient? People who don't even need it. You know why? Because Hashem wants to drive home that chesed isn't because of the one receiving it. Chesed has to do with you and me, the giver, not the taker. That's why He sent people who didn't even need it, because that wasn't the point of the chesed. The point of the chesed wasn't that they needed it. Again, you and I need to give. This is the special chesed of Abraham. Like I said, I think it sheds a lot of light on the way we view chesed, because chesed is a big, big parasha, something we do all the time. But changing our focus would make it a lot more appealing, a lot more godly. It's not that we're doing chesed to be nice people. Maybe it's nice; it's good to be nice. She's a nice person. It's a lot deeper than that. We do chesed because we want to be like God. It's a whole different level, which would change our attitude in a lot of ways.
If someone was walking out the door, and you were both able-bodied people who could open it, a person like Abraham Avinu would open the door first for the other person. Now, if you thought to yourself, “Why? Why should I do that? You could open it; I could open it. Why should I open it for you?” But again, forget you. I want to do something. I'm going to buy a slice of pizza. You could also get one. “Can I get one for you?” Call your friend: “Can I get you something?” You could do it yourself. You could get in a car and do it. But again, Abraham's chesed comes from the person himself. With Hashem's help, Hashem should help us stay focused on this form of chesed. And you should know: try it, try it yourself. Before a person does a chesed, have this thought in mind. Say, “You know what? I'm going to do something good right now for somebody. I'm doing it. I want to be like Hashem.” When you do that chesed, you will feel something in your body that you never felt before, something a little godly in you. That's Tzelem Elohim (image of God). That's what we are. Hashem, Hashem, Hashem should help us do a tremendous amount of chesed with the right attitude. Hashem should give us all berachot (blessings).