You know the story. On an Israeli airplane, the stewardess approached a passenger. “Are you ready for dinner, sir?”
“What are the choices?” the Jew asks.
“Yes or no,” she responds.
The story of Abraham via his unique Bed and Breakfast (or maybe Hilton or Ritz Carlton) spiritually transformed a generation. It is the bread and butter of Jewish education.
The Torah states in the portion of Vayeira: And Abraham planted an Eishel in Beer- Sheba.
The Midrash tells the famous story about how Abraham would feed his guests and then ask them to thank G-d for the meal. If a guest obeyed Abraham and expressed thanks to G-d for the lavish feast, he would eat, drink and leave. If he refused to thank G-d, Abraham would demand full payment for the meal. When the guest would ask to see the bill, Abraham would present an exuberant invoice. “The wine costs $1000, the meat costs $5000, the bread costs $3000, charging astronomical prices for each. The rationale for such steep prices? Abraham would explain: “Who would give you wine in the desert? Who would give you meat in the desert? Who would give you bread in the desert?” When the guests would realize the distress which Abraham was causing them, they would declare: “Blessed is the Master of the world from Whom we have eaten.”
But what was the point of this “religious coercion”? What did Abraham gain by pressuring his guests to feign acceptance of G-d’s reality, just to get out of the exuberant bill? Of what value is a blessing which is extracted under financial duress? It seems like nothing more than a game. It also seems distasteful on Abraham’s part.
The Rebbe offered the following explanation. First, he introduced a strange and mind-staggering Talmudic tale.
Rabbi Elazar the son of Rabbi Shimon one of the great Torah giants of his generation encountered an ugly man and said to him: Empty one! You are so ugly.
Whoever heard of such behavior? It would stagger the imagination even when coming from a simpleton. When such a comment is uttered by a sage, a Rebbe, a spiritual role model of the Jewish people, particularly when coming from one of the great sages of his generation, it is shocking beyond belief. How do you insult someone this way? What is more, the insult does not even make sense! Do you make fun of someone who is deformed? Do you mock a cripple?
The Rebbe explained, note the expression of Reb Elazar. “Empty one! How ugly you are!” Empty one? what does ugliness have to do with emptiness?
Obviously, this stranger in the story was not physically grotesque; his external appearance was not what bothered Rabbi Elazar. Rather, it was a different type of ugliness: a moral ugliness. Great people can look at your face and see not only your physical appearance but also what is behind it, what is on your insides. Reb Elazar looked at this man and saw a soul who was in a moral, emotional, and spiritual abyss. The fellow has forfeited his spiritual beauty; the man was lost in the maze of his own lies, who has sold his soul, his sanity, and his sobriety to the devil, a man who lies to himself and to the whole world and is so lost that he does not even realize it. Today we would call this guy a real addict.
When this man greeted the master with “peace unto you Rebbe,” it sounded polite; it was really a superficial greeting, devoid of substance and emotion. This man was an actor, a mouthpiece without a soul. His greeting was no more than robotic and manipulative.
Reb Elazar saw this. He could have ignored it, said “hi,” and continue his journey home. But he felt that he had a responsibility and an opportunity. Reb Elazar realized that G-d set up this chance meeting in order for him to serve as an ambassador to help this fellow climb up from the abyss and clean up his life. What can one do at such a moment? How do you wake up an addict from his slumber? Words of encouragement, inspiration, and wisdom will usually not do it; the guy is blocked. His soul is almost dead.
Reb Elazar felt that his best shot at success was to employ what we might call today a form of shock treatment. The man was so deadened that anything else would prove futile. Reb Elazar needed to employ a radical method; a drastic move to pierce the layers of filth, and mud eclipsing his inner light and truth.
So the great master defied his own nature and said these words: “Empty one! How ugly you are!” He Hoped that hearing raw words from a genuine Torah master might touch him. It might, at once, puncture the balloon of hot air, and cut through the layers of refuse. And if he manages to drill a hole through the darkness, maybe a little light can come through, and begin a search for recovery.
That was the intent in the master’s words: “Empty one! How ugly you are!”
And you know what happened?
It worked! Mission accomplished.
Rabbi Elazar's acidic comment sent a shiver up his spiritual spine. He responded and said: “Why don’t you go and tell the Craftsman who made me: How ugly is this vessel which you have made?!”
Wow. For the first time in his life, he recognized that there was a “craftsman” who molded him. For the first time, he discovered that he truly exists! That there is real value and dignity to his life! That G-d conceived him in love and invested energy and creativity in him. That G-d fashioned him like a craftsman who fashions a vessel with dedication, attentiveness, and a sense of purpose. Wow! For the first time, the man felt that his life had a purpose, real purpose. Not only did he become cognizant that he was created, but much more, he discovered that G-d had a relationship with him: He created him for a purpose, like a craftsman who makes a vessel with a goal and purpose in mind.
I am not a nobody. I am not a worthless doormat, an addict, who must spend my life chasing my tail, with endless lies. I am bigger than that!
I am for real.
I am not damaged goods; I am Divine vessel, crafted, molded and designed intricately, as a craftsman designs his vessels, with a purpose in mind.
This man might not have been conscious of what exactly happened at the moment, but Reb Elazar achieved his mission! The fact that the man got insulted so deeply, was the first sign of life. A real dead addict does not get insulted, your words don’t reach him. This man got insulted because he was living because he felt that Reb Elazar deprived him of his dignity. Don’t call me an addict; call me a Divine vessel. Don’t say I am ugly; realize my beauty!
By telling him how ugly he was, he made this man realize how beautiful he can be! By telling him how lowly he was, he made this man realize how sublime he can be. By telling this man how small he is, he showed him how great he can become. By deflating his false bubble, he allowed this poor ragged soul to sense a spiritual heartbeat.
Now we can appreciate the man’s response: “For your sake, I forgive him, but on condition that he did not become accustomed to acting this way.” Was this condition really necessary? Why would anybody suspect that Rabbi Elazar might be ready to repeat his terrible mistake? And if you are concerned, why not make a condition that he never behaves this way again?
Yet this man understood that at certain times this behavior is called for. In the density of lies, you got to punch the devil in the face. But only rarely. In most cases, you can inspire people through positive reinforcement, through reaching out to their inner core. The man felt that Reb Elazar was too swift in deciding that only harshness will do the trick, which is why he had a hard time forgiving him. So this man asked that he not make a habit of it, even if there are those rare moments when this drastic measure is called for.
A distraught Jew, facing a very serious challenge, once came to the Rebbe Shalom the 5th Chabad Rebbe seeking his counsel, direction, and blessing. The Rebbe refused to help. "There is nothing I can do," the Rebbe said to him. "I cannot help you."
The man walked out of the Rebbe's chamber and burst into tears. His sobs were heart-wrenching. His last hope was now gone. At that moment, the Rebbe's older brother, Reb Zalman, happened to pass by and asked him what was the matter. The Jew poured out his heart and told him what has transpired. Reb Zalman immediately went and confronted his brother. "Is that how you treat someone who comes to you for help?" he asked his revered brother, the Rebbe. "A Jew asks for a blessing, and you tell him you can do nothing? The poor man is sitting outside your door, weeping in agony and distress!" Even if you really can’t help him, at least show him empathy, encourage him, show him that you care! How can you be so indifferent to a person’s plight?!
At that point, the Rebbe asked for the man to be led into his room a second time.
The Rebbe gave him his blessing and advice, and indeed, it worked. The Jew was delivered from his terrible predicament.
Here, again, the story makes little sense. If the Rebbe could not help him the first time around (as he testified himself), what happened suddenly that he could help?!
The Rebbe offered the following moving insight into the story.
Advice and blessings don’t work like a magic spell. You got to be open and ready for it.
When this Jew came to the Rebbe with his dilemma, the Rebbe looked at him and realized that, sadly, he could not help him. Sure, he can give him advice, offer direction, and shower him with blessings, but it would prove futile, like a downpour on a terrain never plowed and sowed. The man was incapable of hearing, absorbing and implementing the advice.
So what could the Rebbe do? He decided to try and help him.
How? By telling him that he could not help him… That he was too forlorn.
This broke the man. It devastated his conceptualized, false sense of self. The ego he carefully constructed over decades came crashing down. His bubble was ruptured. And you know what happened? He became alive!
He went out of the Rebbe’s room and for the first time, he just sobbed. He surrendered everything. No cover-ups, no defenses, no nice impressions, no camouflage. He submitted his entire ego to G-d. And once the blockages were removed, now a new man emerged, one who was capable of receiving the flow of energy and blessing in his life.
Now the Rebbe, at last, can help him!
Who understood this best? The first Jew, Abraham. From a lifelong vocation of dealing with people, he knew this important truth: Intellectual arguments are important and stimulating, but often they do not pave the path into our psyches and lives.
Abraham’s hotel was essentially a spiritual “retreat and spa” center, for creating a new consciousness in people's lives, helping humanity align itself with its truest depth. People would come to relax, refresh themselves, eat, drink and grow.
Abraham helped people explore life and truth, deal with the questions of morality and day to day living. Abraham mentored thousands to a life of meaning, awareness, love, morality, and purpose.
But then Abraham came across those people who remained unmoved. He did not want to give up on them. Yet he knew that rational arguments can never do the trick, as there are layers of baggage and toxicity now allowing them even to listen to Abraham. How could Abraham help them?
There was one way: Disturb their comfort zone; break them down a bit. They need to feel forlorn.
This is true for all of us. G-d maybe waiting to shower on you the deepest blessings that will transform your life—but are you ready to open yourself to it? Are you really to burst your bubble? Can you truly humble yourself and open yourself to a paradigm shift that may scare the living daylights out of you?
It also guides us in our relations with others. Sometimes you try influencing positively people close to you, but they are not responding. Don’t give up, or despair, or get frustrated with them. They may not be able to hear your message now. Instead of getting annoyed, you got to work on helping them remove the blockages, by becoming closer, not further, from them.
Learn from, Abraham. He knew that within each person lay treasures of infinite light and love. He knew the light is always waiting to emerge; the soul’s violin is yearning to play its music, and he would be there to help tune it.
Two shoe salespeople were sent to Africa to open up new markets. Three days after arriving, one salesperson called the office and said, “I’m returning on the next flight. I can’t sell shoes here. Everybody goes barefoot.” At the same time, the other salesperson sent an email to the factory, saying “The prospects are unlimited. Nobody wears shoes here!”
It all depends on perspective. Every challenge is also an opportunity to discover your wings.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky
Tom Peacock wrote...