Parshat Vayeira 5779 - Undercover Identity

Parsha Paragraphs

Rabbi Naftali Kassorla

Parshat Vayeira 5779

Undercover Identity

The D’var Torah for this week is dedicated for the refuah sheleimah of:
הינדה רייזל בת שרה

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Our parsha this week begins: וירא אליו ה׳ “Hashem, appeared to him in the plains of Mamre” (Bereishit 18:1). Rashi comments that G-d's appearance was for the purpose of ביקור חולים, visiting Avraham who was ill, following his circumcision. Interestingly, the Torah does not name who is actually being visited by G-d. How then do we know this?

Rav Yaakov Kenizel, in his commentary on Rashi, notes this difficulty; how does Rashi know that G-d’s intention was to visit Avraham because he is ill? He explains that Rashi understood that since the Torah does not identify Avraham, it must be that our parsha is a continuation of the previous parsha which left off with Avraham performing a circumcision on himself. Therefore there was no need to explicitly identify Avraham. Thus, by extrapolation we must assume that G-d was both appearing to Avraham, and that it was done with the intention of visiting the sick.

Why does the Torah not formally identify Avraham? Why must we rely on such a seemingly convoluted inference to determine to whom G-d is appearing? Why not just say it straight out?

Perhaps there is a deeper message hidden here. As we know, G-d comes to visit Avraham in his pain. After Avraham undertook the arduous mitzvah of ברית מילה, Hashem came to “perform” the mitzvah of ביקור חולים – visiting the sick, so to speak. The Midrash explains that in order to curtail the burden upon Avraham, G-d even made the day hotter. This would prevent people from travelling and passing by his tent, lest Avraham extend himself to tend to them.

All this was performed with the intention of alleviating the strain on Avraham. We all understand that when a person is sick, they are not “themselves”; they don't feel or look good, and they are not “at their best.” This is true, whether due to a serious illness (G-d forbid), or because of something as simple as a mild headache or toothache. Unfortunately, it is easy to judge or conclude that their behavior, when in pain, is indicative of their true nature, when in truth, it certainly is not.

This idea is born out in a vivid and difficult memory. I knew someone who throughout his life was to me a paragon of sensitivity and menschlichkeit. Unfortunately, he was stricken with terrible illness. I watched painfully as this great man, over the time he received treatments, became bloated and immobile. He lost his hair, and due to his incredible pain, he would lose his temper as well. It was almost as though he was a different person. This person who I adored for so many years and admired for his care and sensitivity to his spouse, was now irritable and moody towards her. It felt so incongruent – how could this be? How could a person undergo such a drastic change? Was this who he really was deep down? How could all those years of sterling character traits vanish in such a short amount of time? I struggled to make sense of my emotions.

That was until I learned this sedra. Then I understood this important lesson in ביקור חולים, and the need for empathy in general. In not identifying Avraham by name, the Torah teaches us that when in pain, a person is not necessarily “himself”; that pain and difficulty can take over a person, and become an impediment to him being the person who he really is. The self is buried under the difficulties that they are bearing. And we, the onlookers, must understand that this isn’t representative of their true, best version of themselves.

However, our message does not end there. When we look further we see that this episode is a testament to the tremendous trait of חסד (kindness) that Avraham possessed. For despite his deep pain, he so desired to perform the mitzvah of הכנסת אורחים (hospitality) and we see, both in the written Torah and in the Midrashim, the great effort that he exerted for it (see Bava Metzia 86b).

With this approach in mind, perhaps we can answer another difficulty in the parsha. As mentioned previously, G-d made the day hotter to stop travellers, lest Avraham over-exert himself in serving guests. Yet the Midrash says that when G-d saw how dejected Avraham became, He sent the Angels to Avraham’s tent. Why, after all of this, does Hashem “relent” and send the Angels? Wouldn’t this be inconveniencing and even hurting Avraham? Hakadosh Baruch Hu literally changed nature in making it unbearably hot to stop visitors, yet now He is sending them? What changed?

I think the answer lies in the the Torah’s intention to demonstrate the greatness of Avraham and the extent Avraham was willing to go to do kindness. He was clearly experiencing greater pain by not having guests than by the physical pain he endured from the Brit Milah. Thus in the end, G-d did send the angels to him.

However, Avraham lived on this high spiritual level and was able to overcome his pain. For us, it is not so easy, we are not Avraham Avinu, and we do not expect that of ourselves – all the more so of others! What we can do though, is strive to better understand the pain and empathize with those who find themselves in these difficult situations.

This should serve for us as a lesson in empathy and love for others around us. And may we continually grow to be the best version of ourselves.

Shabbat Shalom

Parshat Noach - Bleeding Hearts 5779

Parsha Paragraphs
Rabbi Naftali Kassorla

Parshat Noach 5779

Bleeding Hearts

he D’var Torah for this week is dedicated in memory of:

 ר׳ אלחנן יעקב ז״ל בן מורי וחמי ר׳ שמואל פנחס

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In this week's parsha, we are introduced to Noach, a righteous man in his generation, a man chosen by G-d to save humanity from destruction.

The verse in Bereishit (1:29) says: “Behold I have given to you all seed-bearing plant that is upon the surface of the entire earth,” explains that originally man was only allowed to eat from the vegetation of the earth, but from the flesh of the animals, man was not permitted to eat. Only later, after the flood was Noach and his offspring granted permission to eat meat (Noach 9:3, Sanhedrin 59b).

The Ohr HaChaim gives us a reason as to  why Noach was permitted to eat the animals in spite of a millennia prohibiting their consumption: 

שבאמצעותו מצא ה׳ לקיים המין וזולתו לא היה מקיים מין הרמש בלא אדם ובזה זכה הוא בהם. שהוא טרח בהם ויגע בהם‎

It was because of him [Noach and his family] and for his needs that G-d had spared the animals; were it not for man they would not have been spared, and because he  toiled over them and attended to their needs in the ark.

The Ohr HaChaim says that permission was granted to Noach and his children: 1) Specifically because he was the reason for humanity’s continuation and 2) for the care and toil he gave to the species in the Ark.

At first glance, the connection between the saving of the animals and the permission to slaughter them seems tenuous. How is it logical to say that since Noach and his family saved the animals from their death and extinctions, that their death would be allowed to come from Noach’s hand? Wouldn't it follow, and be more fitting to say, that since Noach saved them from death he would not and could not be the one to cause their death? 

In fact, we find a precedent for this kind of sensitivity elsewhere in the Torah. The first plague that G-d decreed upon Egypt was the transformation of the Nile River into blood. As opposed to many others, this plague came not through the hands of Moshe, but rather by his brother Aharon. As Rashi explains, “since he [Moshe] was saved through the Nile it would have been wrong for him to be the instrument to inflict a plague upon it.” 

Here we see that the relationship between Moshe and the Water made it inappropriate for him to strike it. So too, one could argue that Noach had previously formed a bond and a “relationship” so-to-speak with the animals. The hand that saved them could not be the very instrument in their death.

However, upon deeper reflection, we realize that truly the only ones to whom permission to slaughter the animals could be granted were Noach and his children. Precisely because they displayed such sensitivity to the pain of the animals, they were the most appropriate candidates for such a right. Noach and his family would serve as examples for the coming generations as to how we should relate to G-d’s creations.

Only Noach and his children, who toiled for forty days and forty nights with great care in serving and feeding the animals, could be the first ones allowed to eat from their flesh. Only those so perfectly and sensitively attuned to the needs of the animals could be the ones to kill them.

When eating from an animal it is of utmost importance to remember that we are consuming a living and breathing entity. We cannot lose our humanity through that process. It requires us to re-double our sensitivities to all of G-d’s creations.

This level of sensitivity to animals is echoed by Rav Shamshon Rephael Hirsch:

There are probably no creatures that require more the protective Divine word against the presumption of man than the animals, which like man have sensations and instincts, but whose body and powers are nevertheless subservient to man. In relation to them, man so easily forgets that injured animal muscle twitches just like human muscle, that the maltreated nerves of an animal sicken like human nerves, that the animal being is just as sensitive to cuts, blows, and beatings as man. Thus man becomes the torturer of the animal soul, which has been subjected to him only for the fulfillment of humane and wise purposes . . . (Horeb, Chapter 60, Verse 415)

In connecting the permission for slaughtering and eating animals with Noach’s saving them from extinction, the Ohr HaChaim is telling us something very meaningful: by caring for animals, Noach and his family demonstrated that they were most capable of maintaining their humanity and sensitivity while using animals for their personal benefit.

This idea goes much further. It is not limited to eating meat; rather it applies to all aspects of our life. Too often, due to various constant exposures, we can become jaded and callous to the circumstances of the world around us. Regular experiences become just that - regular. Whether it is the Doctor who (understandably so) numbs himself to crisis, the yeshiva/seminary student who has learned the subject before, or the community Rabbi who has “seen it all,” - we cannot allow the flow of life to detract from our basic humanity.

Hearing the news can make anyone want to close his heart and turn it to stone, but the Torah expects more of us. The world is filled with living, breathing creations who feel pain, and we must maintain an open and sensitive heart to each and every one.

From Noach, we see that the Torah values kindness on every level, and no matter what we are doing, we must act with love and care.

Shabbat Shalom