On the Trail of Blessings: A Light Unto the Nations?

[This is post number 4 1/2 of this series. Begin the Trail here.]

Hashem describes Avraham's relationship with the rest of the world in two different ways. Initially, in the Berachos at the beginning of Parshas Lech Lecha, Hashem says, ונברכו בך כל משפחות האדמה, "through you all the families of the earth will be blessed" (12:3). But later Hashem says this, "ונברכו בו כל גויי הארץ, "Through him all the nations of the world will be blessed" (18:18). And again, after the Akeida, Hashem says, והתברכו בזרעך כל גויי הארץ, "through your descendants all the nations of the world will be blessed" (22:18).

Obviously, "nations of the world" is not the same thing as "families of the earth." Why the difference? In light of what we have learned, this too can be explained. 

The original Beracha found at the beginning of Lech Lecha speaks to the Abrahamic destiny as it relates to the physical realm. This is the piece that Yitzchok broke off for Eisav and, as we have seen, it is not limited to the Land of Israel. (Indeed, Israel does not appear in this blessing.) In the end, this national blessing/mission of influencing the world for the good is fulfilled by the Jew in the Diaspora through personal contact with individual gentiles. Thus, it is משפחות האדמה as opposed to גויי הארץ that are impacted.

Later, however, Hashem is defining ברכת אברהם as it manifests itself in Yitzchok (cf. 18:18-19). The reason for the change becomes clear after after the Akieda. If Yitzchok is an עולה תמימה and can never leave Israel, how will he impact the world? How will the Beracha of ונברכו בך כל משפחות האדמה be fulfilled? This is the question that Hashem is addressing immediately after the Akeida, and this is the answer: וירש זרעך את שער איביו והתברכו בזרעך כל גויי הארץ, "Your descendants will inherit the gates of their enemies," i.e., they will  conquer Israel and build a Jewish State, and then, "through your descendants all the nations of the world will be blessed." Nations, not families. Even if the Jews never leave Israel and never come into contact with a gentile, they can still fix the world, for by creating a utopian Jewish State the Jews create a model for the nations of the world. This is what the prophet means when he describes us as an אור לגוים, "a light unto the nations" (Yeshaya 42:6). A light shines from a distance and from that distance it enlightens the nations. 

This also explains the other discrepancy between the blessings. To be a model to the nations of the world, a Jewish nation is needed. Thus in contrast with the blessing to the "families of the earth" which Avraham can effect by himself - ונברכו בך - the blessing to nations cannot occur through Yitzchok alone, but only through the nation of Israel, his descendants - והתברכו בזרעך.

Our theory is borne out by Yitzchok's prophecy in Parshas Toldos. Hashem tells him, ונתתי לזרעך את כל הארצות האל והתברכו בזרעך כל גויי הארץ, "I shall give to your descendants all of these lands," i.e., Israel, "and through your descendants all the nations of the world will be blessed." Here we have the exact same words Hashem said to Avraham after the Akieda. Never does Hashem say to Yitzchok what He said to Avraham at the beginning of Lech Lecha: ונברכו בך כל משפחות האדמה, for Yitzchok can never leave Israel to impact the gentiles of the world on a familial level. His destiny is limited to being a light unto the nations. The Beracha for משפחות האדמה has been replaced by the Beracha for גויי הארץ.

What does Hashem say to Yaakov on this crucial issue? Hashem addresses it only once and at a critical juncture - when Yaakov is on his way out of Israel, after stealing his brother's Beracha and usurping his brother's mission abroad. Here is what Hashem says: והיה זרעך כעפר הארץ ופרצת ימה וקדמה וצפנה ונגבה ונברכו בך כל משפחות האדמה ובזרעך, "Your descendants will be like the dust of the earth and you shall spread out to the west and to the east and to the north and to the south," i.e., you and your descendants are destined to leave Israel and spread out all over the world and then,"through you and through your descendants all the families of the earth will be blessed" (28:14). The original Beracha that Hashem gave Avraham at the beginning of Lech Lecha has reappeared! For, as we have seen, it was precisely this Beracha - as an independent blessing and agenda  - that Yitzchok attempted to give to Eisav and ended up in Yaakov's hands.

All the families of the earth will be blessed through Yaakov, for the destiny of Yaakov, and the destiny of his descendants who follow in his path, is in the Diaspora. There they will meet the gentile, introducing him to family values and inspiring him with the beauty of a life grounded in monotheism. Not a broad and vague "light unto the nations" from a distance, but an intimate blessing of personal contact with the families of the earth.

Eisav was an unbridled pagan who failed to live up to his destiny, forcing Yaakov to "steal" his Beracha and go abroad to do Eisav's job. But Yaakov's loss is the gentile's gain. And, more often than not, that gentile is none other than Eisav himself.

[Continue the Trail here.]

Naive & Proud of it!

Avraham's attempt to save Sodom is noble, inspiring, and sad. Sad not only because he fails, but because he is so far out of touch with reality. Avraham honestly thought there were at least fifty Tzadikim living in Sodom! The greatest outreach professional of all time has no understanding of the reality of the world in which he lives! In short, Avraham is embarrassingly naive - and Hashem loves him for it.

Hashem loves Avraham's naivete, Avraham's innocence, Avraham's instinctive assumption that people are good. Hashem knows how Avraham thinks - כי ידעתיו - and He wants to draw it out of him for all the world to see and emulate. "A person must ask, 'When will my behavior be like the behavior of my forefathers, Avraham, Yitzchok and Yaakov?'" (Tana D'Bei Eliyahu 24). We must strive for naivete.

Avraham has blind faith not only in God, but in man as well. And this is no coincidence.

The man who discovered Hashem by way of the Divine characteristic of Kindness is obviously going to have trouble seeing evil in the humans created in the divine image. This is not a handicap in his outreach work; on the contrary, Avraham's boundless faith in man makes him all the more beloved, inspirational and influential. And this belief in the inherent goodness of the world is what fortifies Avraham with the innocence required to fulfill his ultimate mission - not outreach, but the building of his own eternal family: כי ידעתיו למען אשר יצוה את בניו ואת ביתו אחריו ושמרו דרך השם לעשות צדקה ומשפט.

Naivete may have helped Avraham HaIvri in other ways in his struggle against a corrupt world. In his memoir, Natan Sharansky describes how it helped him:

In retrospect, as I look back on my first days in Lefortovo I am shocked at my own naivete about Soviet justice. On the other hand, perhaps naivete is an essential component for the person who rejects the spiritual slavery of his society and struggles against a powerful regime. Perhaps it guarentees that you won't be frightened to death or paralyzed by fear. Naivete helps draw you into the struggle, where you're able to meet the growing danger head-on, with a firmer resolve.

Fear No Evil, pg. 22

Naivete clearly has its merits, but let us not be naive. It can also be quite dangerous. Back in Parshas Lech Lecha, Avraham battled four kings and won, conquering a broad swath of the country - including the territory of Sodom. In a surprising move, instead of coronating himself as the new King of Israel, Avraham reinstates the evil Bera, the defeated King of Sodom (cf. 14:21-24). According to the Talmud, this was a grave error:

Why was Avraham punished with having his descendants enslaved in Egypt for 210 years? R. Yochanan said, because he prevented people from entering under the wings of the Shechina, [for the King of Sodom said to Avraham], "Give me the people and take the booty for yourself..." (14:21).

Nedarim 32

Had Avraham understood how bad things were in Sodom would he have acted differently? Probably. But then he wouldn't be Avraham - and Hashem loves Avraham.

We do not laugh at Avraham's mistake. No, it is not sad; it is humbling. Even in the evil society of Sodom, there must be fifty Tzadikim. Even if there aren't.

Sarah the Punisher

Sarah was taken twice - once by Pharaoh and once by Avimelech. Both times the bad guys were punished, but the punishments differ. Pharaoh and his people got hit with "severe plagues" (12:17) [a skin desease which made intimate relations painful - Rashi ad loc.] while Avimelech and his people got "sealed wombs" (20:18). Why the difference?

Now, both times the Torah states that these punishments came by the "word of Sarai/Sarah, the wife of Avraham" (12:17/20:18). The Midrash (quoted by Rashi) explains that an angel came and took orders from Sarah. These terrible punishments were thus chosen and directed by her. Our question is sharpened: Why did Sarah change her tactics?

My chavrusa, R. Avrumi Apt, posed an excellent answer to this question. When Pharaoh took Sarai, she was as yet unable to have children of her own. By taking her away from Avraham, Pharaoh was depriving them of living together as man and wife. Striking back measure for measure, Sarai made relations painful for him. However, by the time Avimelech took Sarah, God's blessing had already taken effect and she was able to conceive (cf. Rashi to 18:8). By taking her away from Avraham, Avimelech was preventing them from having a child together. In response, Sarah sealed up their wombs.

Reb Avrumi's answer is so good, I was determined not to quote it for fear that it would undermine my own. But then I remembered that Avrumi is an avid reader of this blog. Let's move on now to my p'shat.

It's not hard to understand why Sarai made sexual relations painful for the Egyptians. The Midrash (quoted by Rashi) states that the Egyptians were promiscuous. Sarai wanted to help cure them of that, so she made relations painful.

Sarah dealt with Avimelech differently because the Gerarites were different than the Egyptians - they were not promiscuous (cf. Rashi to 20:15). Their problem was more basic; they did not fear God. "Avraham said... 'There is no fear of God in this place'" (20:11). Sarah wanted to help them overcome their problem. How do you instill the fear of God in people? Seal up their wombs! It worked well. "The people were very frightened" (20:8). (See Chizkuni to 20:11.)

This provides a new understanding for what follows. "God remembered Sarah as He had said, and God did for Sarah as He had spoken. Sarah conceived and bore a son unto Avraham in his old age..." (21:1-2). Sarah could be blessed with a child only after she appreciated her barrenness as a vehicle for achieving the fear of God.

Is it any surprise that this child, Yitzchak, grew up to become the exemplar of the God-fearing Jew? (cf. 31:42)

For more on Sarah the Punisher, click here.

The Road Taken

Posted by Benjy Ginsberg

A young man who I study with got married last Thursday. His Shabbos Sheva Brochos was going to take place in my neighborhood, and because he was from out-of-town, he asked me if I would be able find accommodations for some of his guests for Shabbos. Naturally, I agreed, offering to house some guests and trying to find suitable arrangements for the others. I was especially grateful for this Mitzvah of Hachnosas Orchim and its fortuitous timing with Parshas Lech Lecha. My kids had been singing incessantly about the greatness of Hachnosas Orchim ("it’s something we should do"), and I was eager to provide them with a real-life opportunity to see this Mitzvah in action, if only to get a little peace and quiet.

But a funny thing happened on the way to the Mitzvah of Hachnosas Orchim: the guests did not show up. We waited impatiently, peering out the windows, hoping until the last minute before sunset that our guests would arrive. As I walked to Shul that evening, I was feeling a mix of bewilderment and annoyance. Actually, I was pretty steamed. I had spent the entire week running around for this Mitzvah, only to have the rug pulled out from under me. Not even a phone call. I wondered, "How would Avraham Avinu have felt if he had put all of his efforts into the Mitzvah of Hachnosas Orchim, only to never have it fulfilled?" Then it dawned on me: he went through the same thing.

Parshas Vayera opens with Avraham interrupting his visit from G-d to serve as host for three wandering men – angels in disguise. As the Midrash relates, Avraham knew that they were angels – without need for food, water or hospitality – but he was glad just to go through the motions of Hachnosas Orchim. Why would Avraham want to go through the whole hassle of preparing a meal and bringing water, when he knew that it was not really going to be the legitimate Mitzvah of Hachnosas Orchim?

Indeed, the Parsha contains a number of episodes where Avraham exerts himself for a good deed without ever seeing it brought to completion. When the angels take their leave to travel to Sodom, Avraham spends a significant amount of time and energy davening to Hashem to save the wicked city, knowing full well that the city did not have nearly the amount of righteous people it would need for Hashem to save it. And, at the end of the Parsha, Avraham’s Mitzvah to sacrifice his son is aborted before he could finish his task. Granted, Avraham was probably on board with not having to kill his son, but there is definitely a pattern of Avraham’s mitzvos being left incomplete.

All of these episodes of Avraham were, of course, part of the ten trials that G-d used to test Avraham. But they were more than that. Avraham is also showing that sometimes the preparation of a Mitzvah can be just as important as the Mitzvah itself. He is more than happy to run for his guests, pray for men he has never met or travel long distances to show his devotion to G-d. For Avraham, the journey itself is rewarding.

Actually, this had always been Avraham’s ethos, from the time G-d told him, Lech Lecha – "Go for yourself". This commandment was not just about getting to Eretz Yisroel, or just to have Avraham arrive at G-d’s chosen destination. It was also the act of going by itself that would be beneficial for Avraham. It would show his commitment to G-d, his willingness to sacrifice, and it would be the first step towards cementing a relationship with G-d that would lead to the eternal covenant between G-d and Avraham’s children, the Jewish people.

There are certain Mitzvos, then, that have other benefits than just reward in the next world. The preparation, the diligence, the journey to a mitzvah’s completion offer a different kind of compensation, one that has benefits for us everyday.

There’s a Gemara that’s said everyday during Birchos HaTorah, which underscores this concept (paraphrased from Shabbos 127a):

These are the things, the fruit of which man eats in this world, while the principal remains for him for the world to come: honoring one's parents, the practice of loving deeds; early attendance at the Beth Hamidrash; hospitality to wayfarers, visiting the sick, preparing a bride for her wedding; burying the dead; meditation in prayer; and making peace between man and his fellow; while the study of the Torah surpasses them all.

All of these things are tremendous Mitzvos. However, they don’t just earn reward in the Next World, they also produce for the doer in this World. That’s because these Mitzvos build character, teach perspective and create a harmonious world. People that involve themselves with chessed, Torah and prayer don’t just acquire Mitzvos, they become better people. And that is rewarding by itself.

So, guests or no guests, I definitely gained from the preparation. I spent hours devoted to trying to help other people, my kids got into the Mitzvah, and I learned that sometimes Mitzvos have benefits that we don’t see right away. For me, then, the message was clear: An unfulfilled Mitzvah can still be fulfilling.

Sacrifice Anyone?

This week’s parsha introduces a new Jewish value. It is a value treasured by G-d and Avraham alike and is undeniably essential to Judaism, but today it makes people uncomfortable. In our progressive world, it strikes many as primitive, even unhealthy. I am speaking of “Yirat Hashem,” the fear of G-d.

When Avraham and Sara move to Gerar and pose as siblings, it doesn’t take long for the king Avimelech to appropriate our beautiful matriarch. G-d informs Avimelech that Sara is a married woman and warns him against touching her. Indignant, Avimelech rightly accuses Avraham of tricking him.

"How could you do this to us? What terrible thing did I do to you that you brought such great guilt upon me and my people? The thing you did to me is simply not done!" (Bereishit 20:9).

Avraham silences the king with his frank reply:

"I realized that the only thing missing here is the fear of G-d. I could have been killed because of my wife."

To Avraham’s mind, security boils down to one basic question: Fear of Heaven. It is irrelevant that murder and adultery are against the law and it is irrelevant that people are educated and cultured. The only thing that can be trusted to control man’s passions and prevent sin is fear of G-d. The town of Gerar had none and that made it a dangerous place. The king didn’t argue.

Later in the parsha, G-d tests the strength of Avraham’s own fear of Heaven with the Akeida, the “Binding of Isaac.” When G-d commands Avraham to present his son as a burnt offering, Avraham heroically sets out to fulfill G-d’s will with perfect faith. At the last possible moment, an angel has to be sent to prevent Avraham from actually killing Yitzchak. G-d then says this:

"Now I know that you fear G-d. You have not withheld your only son from Me" (Bereishit 22:12).

It seems that fear of G-d is critical not only for the prevention of sin, but also for the fulfillment of mitzvot. Why is this? Shouldn’t love of G-d and appreciation for His infinite benevolence suffice to drive man to do mitzvot? Why is Avraham’s performance at the Akeida trial attributed to fear and not love? Isn’t love all we need?

No, we need more than love. Had Avraham only loved G-d and not feared Him, Avraham would never have brought his son to the Akeida. Before Yitzchak was born, G-d told Avraham explicitly that His eternal covenant would be established with Yitzchak and his descendants (Genesis 17:19). The new command to kill Yitzchak clearly contradicted that earlier prophecy. If Avraham’s relationship with G-d was built solely on love, the contradiction would have paralyzed him. For when man is in love, his sole focus is to bring pleasure to his loved one. Unable to determine what G-d really wanted, Avraham would not have dared kill Yitzchak (cf. Bereishit Rabba 56:16).

Fear, however, changes everything. The question is no longer what G-d wants, but what are my obligations. These are two very different things. G-d’s statement that Yitzchak will father the Jewish nation was not a command; offering Yitzchak as a sacrifice was. Do they conflict? Yes. Does this present a problem for one who fears G-d? No. Man is not responsible for reconciling divine contradictions; man’s job is faith and duty. This is why Avraham’s unquestioning obedience at the Akeida proved his fear and not his love.

There is another explanation.

It’s hard to love when you don’t feel loved. Love could not have brought Avraham to the Akeida for love doesn’t function well if it is perceived as one-sided. When mitzvot appear irrational or callous, like at the Akeida, man feels unloved by G-d and the love relationship falters. In such situations, when the eternal Torah confronts the temporal values of society and contradicts the sensibilities of the human mind, the resultant friction can only be resolved through sacrifice. Love would expect the sacrifices to be mutual. Fear would not. The Akeida must therefore be an expression of fear.

This explains why the Torah requires fear and this also explains why religiosity is so disturbing to modern man. In 1965, Rabbi J.B. Soloveichik published a monumental essay entitled “The Lonely Man of Faith.” It describes our problem and finds modern man wanting:

"Western man… certainly feels spiritually uprooted, emotionally disillusioned, and, like the old king of Ecclesiastes, is aware of his own tragedy. Yet this pensive mood does not arouse him to heroic action. He, of course, comes to a place of worship. He attends lectures on religion and appreciates the ceremonial, yet he is searching not for a faith in all its singularity and otherness, but for religious culture. He seeks not the greatness found in sacrificial action but the convenience one discovers in a comfortable, serene state of mind. He is desirous of an aesthetic experience rather than a covenantal one, of a social ethos rather than divine imperative. In a word, he wants to find in faith that which he cannot find in his laboratory, or in the privacy of his luxurious home. His efforts are noble, yet he is not ready for a genuine faith experience which requires the giving of one’s self unreservedly to G-d, who demands unconditional commitment, sacrificial action and retreat… Therefore, modern man puts up demands that faith adapt itself to the mood and temper of modern times."

In other words, in response to the Torah’s call for selfless service and noble sacrifice, man sardonically expects Judaism to make sacrifices for him. Avraham said it long ago in Gerar, but it can be said of modern times as well: “The only thing missing here is the fear of G-d.” Love abounds, but fear remains rare.