II. God and Strangers
THE CORE IDEA
Our parasha begins with a somewhat confusing opening scene, with Avraham sitting at the entrance to his tent:
“God appeared to Avraham by the oaks of Mamre, as he sat at the entrance to his tent in the heat of the day. He lifted up his eyes and looked and, lo, three men were standing over against him; and when he saw them, he ran to meet them from the tent entrance and bowed down to the earth” (Bereshit 18:1–2).
At first glance the story seems simple. However, after a closer look it is actually complex and ambiguous. It consists of three sections:
Verse 1: God appears to Avraham.
Verses 2–16: Avraham meets the men/angels.
Verses 17–33: The dialogue between God and Avraham about the fate of Sedom.
The relationship between these sections is far from clear. Is this one scene, two, or three?
The most obvious possibility is three. Each of the sections is a separate event. First, God appears to Avraham, as Rashi explains, “to visit the sick” after Avraham’s circumcision (brit mila). Then the visitors arrive with the news that Sara will have a child. Then there is the great conversation between Avraham and God about justice and the punishment of the people of Sedom.
The Rambam suggests that there are only two scenes: the visit of the angels and the dialogue with God. The first verse does not describe an event at all; it is, rather, a chapter heading. It tells us that the events that follow are all part of a prophetic communication from God, a Divine-human encounter.
The third possibility is that we have a single continuous scene. God appears to Avraham, but before He can speak, Avraham sees the passers-by and asks God to wait while he serves them food. Only when they have departed – in verse 17 – does he turn to God, and the conversation begins.
QUESTIONS TO PONDER
1. Which of these three interpretations do you think best explains the story? Why do you prefer that interpretation to the others?
2. Consider the third interpretation. What do you think of Avraham’s decision to interrupt his conversation with God? Was this justified? Can that behaviour ever be justified?
3. What do you think is the message behind the third interpretation?
It Once Happened…
Ari Fuld deserved his nickname the “Lion of Zion.” He was a brave and passionate Zionist and dedicated his life to the Jewish people and to the Jewish state. Ari served in the Israel Defence Forces (IDF) as a sergeant in an elite paratroopers’ unit, and felt it was a privilege to serve in the IDF. When he turned forty, his discharge papers arrived but he tore them up and refused to retire. In his civilian life, he continued his life’s work to advocate for Israel in the media and on social media, and support IDF troops through the organisation he helped create and run called Standing Together.
Ari was killed one Sunday morning in September 2018 in a knife attack while doing his supermarket shopping. After fatally stabbing Ari, the terrorist continued his attack, running towards a woman serving falafel in a nearby shop. With a superhuman effort, with his very last breaths, Ari jumped over a wall and chased the terrorist, shooting him before he could kill again. Ari then collapsed and died from his wounds. He died as he lived, a hero dedicated to the Jewish people.
Ari’s true heroism and character became well known following his death, as stories from his life began to surface. A particularly poignant one came from a local Arab who reached out to Ari’s family to offer his condolences. He told them that every Friday, when Ari would shop for his own family for Shabbat, he would also buy some extra food to give to his family who were poor and often hungry. While Ari dedicated his life to his own people, he had compassion and love for the stranger also.
QUESTIONS TO PONDER
1. What do you find most inspiring from this story?
2. Is it hard to show kindness to the stranger? Why is it important?
THINKING MORE DEEPLY
In The Core Idea, we saw three possible interpretations of the story of the angels visiting Avraham. These options hinge upon the way we translate the word Adonai in Avraham’s appeal: “Please Adonai, if now I have found favour in your sight, do not pass by, I pray you, from your servant” (18:3). Adonai can be a reference to one of the names of God. But it can also be read as “my lords” or “sirs.” In the first case, Avraham would be addressing God. In the second, he would be speaking to the passers-by. In fact, an example of the second way to read the term Adonai, as “my lords,” can be seen in the very next chapter (Bereshit 19:1–2), when Lot receives two of the same angels in Sedom. The simplest reading of both stories would be to read the word consistently as “sirs,” and many English translations do just that. Jewish tradition, however, does not.
We know this because there are halakhic implications in this case of how we read this word. If we read Adonai as “God,” it is a holy name, and both the writing of the word by a scribe, and the way we treat a parchment or document containing it, have special stringencies in Jewish law. And that is how Jewish law rules in this case.
This is an extraordinary fact, because it suggests that Avraham actually interrupted God as He was about to speak, asking Him to wait while he attended to the visitors. The story must now be read like this: God appeared to Avraham, and then he also noticed three men approaching. Avraham then turned to God and said, “My God, if I have found favour in Your eyes, do not leave Your servant [i.e., Please wait until I have given hospitality to these men].” Then Avraham turned back to the men and offered his hospitality.
This daring interpretation became the basis for a principle in Judaism: “Greater is hospitality than receiving the Divine Presence” (Shabbat 127a). Faced with a choice between listening to God and offering hospitality to strangers, Avraham chose the latter. God accepted his request and waited while Avraham brought the visitors food and drink, before engaging him in dialogue about the fate of Sedom.
How could Avraham put the needs of (who he thought to be) human beings before God? This passage is teaching us a profound truth. The idolaters of Avraham’s time worshipped the sun, the stars, and the forces of nature as gods. They worshipped power and the powerful. Avraham knew, however, that God is not in nature but beyond nature. There is only one thing in the universe on which He has set His image: the human person, every person, powerful and powerless alike.
Avraham, father of monotheism, knew the paradoxical truth that to live the life of faith is to see the trace of God in the face of the stranger. It is easy to receive the Divine Presence when God appears as God. What is difficult is to sense the Divine Presence when it comes disguised as three anonymous passers-by. That was Avraham’s greatness. He knew that serving God and offering hospitality to strangers were not two things, but one.
By choosing the most radical of the three possible interpretations of Bereshit 18, the Sages allowed us to hear one of the most fundamental principles of the life of faith: we honour God by honouring His image, humankind.
FROM THE THOUGHT OF RABBI SACKS
Tzedaka is the gift of money or its equivalent. But sometimes that is not what we most need. We can suffer emotional as well as physical poverty. We can be depressed, lonely, close to despair. We may need company or comfort, encouragement or support. These too are human needs, no less real for being untranslatable into the language of politics or economics.
That is what ḥesed is about: emotional support, loving-kindness, love as compassion. It is what we mean when we speak of God in Psalm 147 as one who “heals the broken-hearted and binds up their wounds.” It includes hospitality to the lonely, visiting the sick, comforting the bereaved, raising the spirits of the depressed, helping people through crises in their lives, and making those at the margins feel part of the community. It is tzedaka’s other side.
Tzedaka is done with material goods, ḥesed with psychological ones: time and care. Tzedaka is practical support; ḥesed is emotional support. Tzedaka is a gift of resources, ḥesed a gift of the person. Even those who lack the means to give tzedaka can still give ḥesed. Tzedaka rights wrongs; ḥesed humanises fate.
Avraham and Sara were chosen because of their ḥesed to others. Rut became the ancestress of Israel’s kings because of her ḥesed to Naomi. At the heart of the Judaic vision is the dream of a society based on ḥesed: society with a human face, not one dominated by the competition for wealth or power. Ḥesed is the mark of a people joined by covenant. Covenant creates society as extended family; it means seeing strangers as if they were our long-lost brothers or sisters. A community based on ḥesed is a place of grace, where everyone feels honoured and everyone is at home.
Ten Paths to God – Chessed: Love as Compassion, 3
QUESTIONS TO PONDER
1. What is the difference between tzedaka and ḥesed?
2. Avraham was known as a man of ḥesed. How do you think this impacts on his descendants?
AROUND THE SHABBAT TABLE
Do you think the main focus of Judaism is our relationship with God or with our fellow man?
According to Rabbi Sacks, there is a central philosophical message contained in this story, a polemic against the other religions of the time and perhaps also of our time. What is it?
“We honour God by honouring His image, humankind.” How can we do this? How can you do this in your life?
EDUCATIONAL COMPANION TO THE QUESTIONS
THE CORE IDEA
This is an open question, with no correct or incorrect answers. All three approaches are legitimate, despite Rabbi Sacks presenting the third one as the position of Jewish tradition (as proven by the halakhic status of the term Adonai – see Thinking More Deeply). The educational message of the third approach is a very strong one, and the basis of the message of this Covenant & Conversation essay. But as Rabbi Sacks admits, the first approach is perhaps the easiest one to read into the text, and this could equally be argued for Rambam’s approach.
While it is understandable to consider Avraham’s behaviour towards God as disrespectful, and even sacrilegious, the profound message here is that showing ḥesed to humanity is more important even than our relationship with God. To some extent this represents two different approaches within Judaism – one focuses more on our relationship with God (known as mitzvot bein adam leMakom) and the other on our relationship with our fellow man (known as mitzvot bein adam leḥavero). A balance between both approaches is possible and perhaps the ideal.
The message of the third interpretation is further explored in the Thinking More Deeply section. It suggests that the primary focus of Judaism is concerned with humanity, even if it is at the expense of our relationship with God. Having said that, a close reading of Rabbi Sacks’s message shows us that when one honours our fellow man by treating him/her with respect and dignity, we are in fact also honouring God. Perhaps this is the balance between the two approaches, whereby our focus is both humanity and God.
IT ONCE HAPPENED…
This is an open question with no correct or incorrect answers. There are many inspiring parts to the story, including Ari’s passion for the Jewish people and Israel, and how these were the ultimate values in his life. But the way in which he died, while tragic and sad, is also deeply inspiring and heroic. Perhaps the most inspiring part is the stories that only came to light after Ari’s death – the acts of kindness that he performed out of the spotlight without anyone knowing about them.
A powerful aspect of the ḥesed Ari showed to the Arab family is that Ari saw the humanity in the stranger, irrespective of politics and the conflict that ultimately took his life. It is often harder to show kindness and ḥesed to those who are not like us, but this is when ḥesed is most important, and Ari understood that.
FROM THE THOUGHT OF RABBI SACKS
Tzedaka is monetary or practical support, while ḥesed is about emotional support, loving-kindness, and compassion.
Avraham’s central quality was ḥesed and he was chosen to be the progenitor of the Jewish people. He can be considered a primary role model for the Jewish people, and perhaps just as his defining quality was ḥesed, so the core value of Judaism, and the defining quality of the Jewish people, is and should be ḥesed.
AROUND THE SHABBAT TABLE
Judaism has a dual focus – our relationship with God (mitzvot bein adam leMakom) and our relationship with our fellow man (mitzvot bein adam leḥavero). A balance between both approaches is possible. While perhaps maintaining an equal focus on both is the ideal, the message of this story seems to be that we can compromise on our honouring and respecting God in order to bring respect and honour to the stranger. Having said that, Rabbi Sacks’s message is that when we honour our fellow man by treating him/her with respect and dignity, we are in fact also honouring God.
It is always easy to show kindness and love to those who are like us. That is the most natural thing in the world. Hence, we have immediate and unconditional love for those in our family and find it most easy to love those from our community and nation. The greater moral challenge is showing equal kindness and love to those who are not like us – those who look different from us, or believe in different things than us, and have a different lifestyle than us. That is what we should strive for if we are to replicate Avraham’s character trait of ḥesed.
This question asks the people around your Shabbat table to consider real and practical ways in which they can show honour and respect to the people in their lives, including those who are strangers to them. Examples of this could be the way they treat the members of their family, their friends, teachers, and the bus driver and shopkeeper whom they interact with on a daily basis, as well as the stranger they have never met before and will probably not meet again. Avraham models this last example, showing kindness and respect to people who were not like him, and whom he had no expectations of meeting again. This is the ultimate example of ḥesed.