Parasha Insight

We read in Parashat Hayeh-Sara the famous story of Abraham sending his trusted servant, Eliezer, to his hometown of Aram Naharayim for the purpose of finding a suitable match for Yishak. The Midrash, cited by Rashi (Bereshit 24:39), reveals to us an astounding detail about this story, one which sheds Eliezer's character in an entirely new light. Eliezer, the Midrash tells, had a daughter, and he very much wished that she would marry Yishak. He wanted nothing more than to join the distinguished family of Abraham Abinu. This is why, the Midrash adds, Eliezer asked Abraham what would happen if the suitable girl in Aram Naharayim did not want to move to Eretz Yisrael to marry Yishak. Eliezer used the word "Ulai' – "perhaps," imagining the situation of the girl refusing to leave her hometown, but this word is spelled like the word "Elai" – "to me." Eliezer posed this question with ulterior motives, hoping that Abraham would at least allow for the possibility of Eliezer's daughter marrying Yishak. However, the Midrash teaches, Abraham dismissed this possibility. He explained to Eliezer that as a descendant of Ham, Noah's son whom Noah had cursed, he cannot join the family of Abraham, which received a special blessing from Hashem. Remarkably, this rejection had no impact whatsoever on Eliezer's mission. He proceeded to faithfully discharge his duty in the best way possible, doing everything he could to convince Ribka's family to allow her to leave and marry Yishak. Eliezer harbored no feelings of resentment, and felt no envy. He was the exemplar of a faithful, loyal servant, fulfilling his obligations to his master at the expense of his personal interests. The Midrash concludes by telling us that Eliezer eventually transformed his status of "cursed" to that of "blessed." When he arrived at Ribka's home, Ribka's brother, Laban, greeted him by exclaiming, "Bo Beruch Hashem" – "Come, he who is blessed by G-d" (24:31). Hashem placed these words in Laban's mouth as a declaration that from this point, Eliezer was no longer "cursed," but "blessed." The question then arises, in what way was Eliezer now "blessed"? His daughter was still ineligible to marry Yishak. So what exactly did this new "blessed" status offer Eliezer? The answer, perhaps, is based on a teaching of the Arizal, that Eliezer's soul returned many years later, in the person of Kaleb, one of the twelve spies sent by Moshe Rabbenu to survey the Land of Israel. The Gemara (Sota 34b) teaches that when the spies arrived in the land, Kaleb separated from the others and went to Hebron, to pray at Me'arat Ha'machpela, the burial site of the patriarchs. Knowing that his comrades were scheming to speak negatively about the Land of Israel, Kaleb prayed for the strength and wherewithal to withstand the pressure and dissent. Having been a servant of Abraham Abinu in a previous life, he went to Me'arat Ha'machpela, his master's grave. Kaleb was then rewarded by receiving rights to the city of Hebron, which he had visited, and this is the "blessing" that he earned through his loyalty to Abraham. This connection between Eliezer and Kaleb runs even deeper. The Zohar teaches that the spies betrayed Moshe Rabbenu's trust because of their personal agenda. These men were the leaders of the tribes, and they realized that they would lose their prestigious position once Beneh Yisrael cross into the land. They thus had an interest in luring Beneh Yisrael to refuse to proceed, so they could retain their leadership posts. Kaleb, possessing the soul of Eliezer, remained faithful to his mission despite the sacrifice entailed. Unlike his peers, he did not compromise his loyalty for the sake of pursuing his own personal agenda – continuing the quality shown by Eliezer. Each and every one of us is a servant of Hashem. We must learn from Eliezer's example about the importance of steadfast, unwavering loyalty to our Master, even at the expense of our personal interests. Torah observance demands making sacrifices, and sometimes it demands making significant sacrifices – of time, of comfort, of convenience, and of money. And it is precisely when sacrifice becomes necessary that our loyalty is tested. Let us follow Eliezer's example of faithfulness, of uncompromising loyalty to our Master, so that we, too, will be "blessed" in every which way, Amen.

Parashat Vayera begins, "G-d appeared to him in Eloneh Mamreh." Hashem appeared to Abraham, but, surprisingly, the Torah does not tell us that Hashem spoke to Abraham or communicated with him at all during this revelation. This might be the reason why Rashi explains that G-d appeared for the purpose of Bikur Holim – to visit the sick. Abraham, at the age of 99, had just undergone circumcision, and was writhing in pain, and so Hashem came to visit him. The Misva of Bikur Holim does not require the visitor to speak to the patient; simply showing up, being present, and displaying concern brings the patient a degree of comfort and encouragement. Rashi therefore understood that when the Torah says that G-d appeared to Abraham without speaking, it means that He came to visit him because he was ill. The Seforno (Rav Ovadia Seforno, Italy, 1475-1550), however, explains differently. He writes that Hashem came to Abraham because the act of circumcision marks the forging of a covenant. We refer to circumcision as a "Berit Mila" – a covenant ("Berit"), and this is precisely how Hashem described this Misva when introducing it to Abraham in the previous Parasha (chapter 17). Now when two parties make a deal with one another, they must both be present. Naturally, then, right after Abraham performed the Mila, Hashem arrived for the finalization of His covenant with Abraham and his descendants. The Seforno proceeds to offer a fascinating insight on this basis into the time-honored custom of setting aside a special chair at a Berit Mila. The conventional understanding is that Eliyahu Ha'nabi is forced to attend every Berit Mila because he unfairly accused the Jewish People of disregarding their covenant with Hashem. In response, G-d decreed that Eliyahu would personally witness the circumcision of every Jewish child, to see that they remain committed to the covenant. The Seforno, however, suggests that this chair represents Hashem's presence at this covenantal ceremony. We might say that Eliyahu is G-d's "agent," who received "power of attorney" to represent G-d as the covenant is made between Him and the child. A covenant, by definition, is a "two-way street," a bilateral agreement, and so Hashem needs to be present at every Berit Mila. The "Kiseh Shel Eliyahu" is prepared as the seat where Eliyahu sits to represent Hashem. This might also answer the famous question asked by many commentators as to why Abraham had not performed a Berit Mila earlier. The Gemara teaches that Abraham observed all the Misvot, even though the Torah had not been given, because he realized on his own how Hashem wanted him to live. If so, then why did he wait until he was commanded before undergoing Berit Mila? According to the Seforno's explanation, the answer is clear. Berit Mila is an act that creates a covenant between the individual and Hashem, and so, by definition, it cannot be performed without Hashem's involvement. Abraham could not enter into a covenant with Hashem until Hashem informed him of this covenant and decided the time had come for such a relationship. Therefore, it was only after Hashem commanded Abraham to perform Berit Mila as a sign of the covenant that he did so.

The Torah in Parashat Lech-Lecha tells of the birth of Abraham Abinu's first son, Yishmael. When Sara saw that she could not conceive, she had Abraham marry her maidservant, Hagar, as his second wife, and Hagar conceived and gave birth to Yishmael. The Torah informs us that Abraham was 86 years when Yishmael was born (16:16). Rashi explains that the Torah did not provide this information merely as a matter of historical intrigue. Rather, it was speaking in praise of Yishmael. Later in the Parasha, we read that Abraham was 99 years old when he and the males in his household underwent Berit Mila. The Torah tells us that Abraham was 86 when Yishmael was born so we would know that Yishmael was 13 years old when he was circumcised. Rashi writes that Yishmael did not resist, and underwent the painful procedure – without anesthesia – willingly. When I read Rashi's comments, I am brought back to unforgettable experience I had some years ago, when I joined Rav Matisyahu Salomon, the famous Mashgiah of Lakewood (1937-2024), on a mission to Tbilisi, for the purpose of strengthening the Jewish community there. One of the ambitious projects undertaken was performing Berit Mila for the many Jewish boys and men who had not yet received one. We had a Mohel with us in a group, and it was inspiring to see boys and men of all ages who lined up with enthusiasm to undergo Berit Mila. Afterward, the Mohel shared with us his reflections on this experience. For many years, he said, the descendants of Yishmael have been able to inflict a great deal of harm upon the Jewish People, and this is due to the great merit of Yishmael, who willfully underwent circumcision at the age of 13. Hashem therefore arranged that in our generation, there would be Jews who did not receive a Berit Mila as infants, and who would come forward to receive one at an older age. The merit of this sacrifice would counteract the merit of Yishmael, and pave the way for our victory over Yishmael's descendants and our final redemption, may it unfold speedily and in our times. The lesson for us is the importance of sacrifice. In order to earn the Zechut (merit) to defeat Yishmael, we must be prepared to sacrifice for the sake of Misvot, and to do so happily, like Yishmael did. If Yishmael joyfully had a Berit Mila as a grown boy, then we must be willing to perform Misvot even when this is uncomfortable or inconvenient. Hashem does not make demands that involve severe physical pain like that which Yishmael endured when receiving a Berit Mila, but He does demand that we exert effort and that we sacrifice comfort and convenience for the sake of His service. If we are going to defeat the wicked descendants of Yishmael who continue to threaten us, we must neutralize the merit of Yishmael through self-sacrifice, by devoting ourselves to Torah and Misvot even when it is difficult.

The Gemara in Masechet Zevahim (116) tells that at the time of Matan Torah, a loud, thunderous noise was heard throughout the world. The kings came to Bilam, the gentile prophet, to ask what was happening. They feared that G-d was bringing a flood to destroy the earth, as He had done during the times of Noach. Bilam assured them by reminding them of the promise Hashem made to Noach after he left the ark, that He would never again destroy the earth. The noise that the people heard, Bilam explained, was the sound of Hashem giving His beloved nation the sacred Torah. How might we understand this story – that the event of Matan Torah was initially mistaken for a repeat of the flood? The answer emerges from a fascinating comment of the Zohar, in Parashat Pinhas, teaching that the Torah was supposed to have been given during the time of Noach. The flood of water that destroyed the earth was initially to have been a "flood" of wisdom and spirituality. But that generation was sinful and undeserving of the Torah, and so G-d flooded the world with water instead of with Torah. This explains an otherwise baffling passage in the Gemara, in Masechet Hulin, where the Gemara asks where the Torah makes an allusion to Moshe Rabbenu. The Gemara answers by citing a verse toward the end of Parashat Bereshit (6:3) in which G-d bemoans the sinfulness of the generation of the flood ("Be'shagam Hu Basar"). The word "Be'shagam" in this verse in Gematria equals 345 – the same Gematria as the name "Moshe," and it is in this verse, the Gemara states, where the Torah makes an allusion to Moshe Rabbenu. The Gemara's discussion seems very peculiar. The vast majority of the Torah is about Moshe. Why must the Gemara search for a subtle allusion to him? The answer might be that the Gemara searched for an allusion to Moshe in the context of the originally intended time of Matan Torah. As he was the one who brought us the Torah, we should expect him to be associated in some way with the story of the flood, the period when the Torah was to have been given to the world. The Gemara found such an allusion in the word "Be'sha'gam" describing the generation of the flood. The Arizal developed this point even further, teaching that Moshe's soul was a "Gilgul" (reincarnation) of Noach's soul. This special soul descended to give the Torah, but the generation of the flood was unworthy, so this soul returned centuries later in the form of Moshe Rabbenu, who brought the Torah to Beneh Yisrael. This is evidenced by the fact that Moshe's mother, Yochebed, placed him in a "Teba" (basket) to hide him from the Egyptians (Shemot 2:3). This marks the only time in the Torah when the word "Teba" is used except during the story of Noach, who of course built a "Teba" (ark). As these two righteous men shared the same soul, they were both saved in a "Teba." What might be the practical lesson to be learned from this? What is the significance of the fact that the Torah was to be given during the time of Noach, but the event of Matan Torah was substituted with the flood? The explanation, perhaps, is that Torah, like the flood, destroys – specifically, it destroys the Yeser Ha'ra, people's sinful inclinations and tendencies. The connection between Torah and the flood teaches us that the Torah is given to us to destroy the negative aspects of our characters. If we properly devote ourselves to Torah learning, and we open our minds and our hearts to imbibe its timeless wisdom and its sanctity, we have an opportunity to be refined and cleansed. Just as the floodwaters in Noach's time had the effect of resetting the earth, so does Torah have the power to "reset" our souls, to change us, to make us better and more spiritual beings. Let us, then, commit to utilizing this sacred gift to "destroy" our Yeser Ha'ra and draw closer to Hashem.

The Midrash (Midrash Tehillim 92) relates that after Adam was forgiven for his sin of eating the forbidden fruit in Gan Eden, he sang a song – a song known to us as "Mizmor Shir La'Yom Ha'Shabbat," the 92 chapter of Tehillim. It was on Shabbat that Adam was told that he was forgiven, and so he sung this special song about Shabbat. Appropriately, we recite this chapter as part of our Kabbalat Shabbat service at the onset of Shabbat on Friday night, and this chapter has been designated as the "Shir Shel Yom" for Shabbat, the Psalm associated with this day of the week. Strikingly, however, when we read this chapter, it does not speak about Shabbat at all. After the introductory verse, which identifies this chapter as the special Psalm for Shabbat, there is no mention of Shabbat whatsoever. Why, then, is this the song especially composed for Shabbat? To answer this question, let us briefly examine what this chapter does talk about. The opening verses emphasize that we are to praise and express gratitude to Hashem under all circumstances. "Le'hagid Ba'boker Hasdecha, Ve'emunatecha Ba'lelot" – "To speak of Your kindness in the morning, and Your faith in the nights" (92:3). We must praise Hashem not only in the "daytime," when we enjoy the "light" of joy and good fortune, but also "in the nights," when we find ourselves engulfed by darkness, beset by troubles and hardships. Later, this chapter addresses the famous, baffling reality that the righteous often suffer while the wicked often prosper. Adam here assures us that the righteous will ultimately receive their due reward, whereas the wicked will receive their due punishment. This chapter is associated with Shabbat because the weekly Shabbat that we observe offers us a glimpse of the eternal Shabbat – the next world, when we will achieve perfect clarity and will see how everything is for the best. The Gemara (Pesahim 50a) teaches about the difference between our world and the next world. Here in this world, we celebrate good fortune by reciting the blessing, "Ha'tob Ve'ha'metib," thanking Hashem for His goodness, but when misfortune strikes, Heaven forbid, we solemnly recite "Dayan Ha'emet," acknowledging G-d as the "true Judge." In the next world, however, we will jubilantly recite "Ha'tob Ve'ha'metib" over all events that transpire. The Tzelah (Rav Yechezkel Landau of Prague, 1713-1793) explains this to mean that in the future, we will look back upon all the misfortunes that took place and realize how they were, in fact, good. We will be shown how everything was for the best – even the tragic, painful events that we experienced. In our world, we rightfully mourn and grieve when misfortune strikes. But we must believe that the time will come when we will be shown how ultimately, everything was, in truth, for the best. On Shabbat, we are lifted ever so slightly up from our world, and brought into a different reality – into a realm called "Me'en Olam Ha'ba," a "miniature" Olam Ha'ba (the next world), where we experience a small degree of the clarity of the next world. If we observe Shabbat properly, we receive a boost of Emuna, a greater level of serenity, more emotional strength to accept the challenging aspects of our lives and enjoy happiness and contentment. The precious gift of Shabbat offers us more than a day off from work, and an opportunity to spend more time with family and friends – as significant as this of course is. The gift of Shabbat is the gift of Emuna, the gift of peace of mind. We are able to experience – to some small degree – the faith and unbridled joy of Olam Ha'ba. This is why the chapter written by Adam is chosen as the special Psalm for Shabbat. This is the day when, more than on any other, we are able to deeply feel that "Tob Le'hodot L'Hashem U'l'zamer Le'shimcha Elyon" – that it is good to thank and praise Hashem, that everything He does is for our benefit, even when we face hardship. This weekly boost of Emuna gives us the strength we need for the coming week, fortifying us with the belief that no matter what challenges we confront, everything that happens is for the best.