A husband and wife had an argument. Wife called up her mom and said, "He fought with me again, I am coming to live with you." Mom said, "No darling, he must pay for his mistake. I am coming to live with you!"
An older man had serious hearing problems for many years. He went to the doctor and the doctor was able to have him fitted for a set of hearing aids that allowed the man to hear 100%.
The old man went back in a month to the doctor and the doctor said, “Your hearing is perfect. Your family must be really pleased that you can hear again.”
The man replied, “Oh, I haven’t told my family yet. I just sit around and listen to their conversations. I’ve changed my will three times!”
Abraham the first Jewish man enters into a unique and singular covenant with G-d—to the point that at the age of 99 he circumcises himself as a physical display of that covenant.
In this week’s portion, Vayeira, his remarkable story continues. We see him as the paradigm of hospitality and kindness—inviting strangers to his tent and offering them food, shelter, and compassion. We then witness the miraculous story when at the age of 100, he and his wife give birth to Issac.
The Torah sums up the story: “He built a hotel in Beer Sheva; and he called out in the name of G-d, the master of the world.”
And then—suddenly, unexpected, out of nowhere—comes the ultimate curve ball. G-d says to Abraham:
Take your son, your only one, whom you love, yea, Isaac, and go away to the land of Moriah and bring him up there for a burnt offering on one of the mountains, of which I will tell you.
W-H-A-T???! We all want to shout as we read these words, as we would have expected Abraham to shout. You’re kidding me? Is this a bad dream, a surreal joke, or what? I thought you, G-d, were not impulsive, blood-thirsty like all the other man-made gods? I thought I was worshipping, at last, a G-d of justice and truth?What is this sudden command to go and kill him?
Yet Abraham does not panic.
Abraham arose early in the morning, and he saddled his donkey, and he took his two young men with him and Isaac his son; and he split wood for a burnt offering, and he arose and went to the place of which God had told him.
Abraham arrives to the destination. He builds an altar and prepares for the sacrifice. Abraham binds Isaac on the altar and picks up the sacrificial knife. Just as Abraham is about to offer his son as a burnt offering, an angel calls out to him and says:
"Do not stretch forth your hand to the lad, nor do the slightest thing to him, for now I know that you are a G-d fearing man, and you did not withhold your son, your only one, from Me."
What is this all about? G-d, you did not know that Abraham was a G-d fearing man till now? 137 years of commitment did not suffice? What’s the point of this entire episode?
It was at this point that Abraham—and Isaac—emerged in their full Jewishness. G-d did not want Abraham to sacrifice his son—as we can see from the end of the story. Rather, G-d wanted Abraham, and Isaac, to have the courage to reinvent themselves.
This was the story of Abraham. After all seemed complete, Abraham is told it is time for him to return his gift, his child, back to the giver. He was uncertain. He was in complete darkness. Why? How? What? For what purpose? He realized that he knows nothing. He held on to G-d and said: Hinani! I am here!
At that moment he became the ultimate Jew, the ultimate man of G-d.
“Now I know that you are a G-d fearing person,” the angel tells Abraham. We always knew that he was completely dedicated to G-d. But it is now that Abraham became one with the Divine—there was no I left; only an ambassador of G-d in this world.
The Talmud relates a deeply perturbing story, it takes us back to the second century CE, following the destruction of the Second Temple, when the Romans decreed a death penalty for anyone caught studying or teaching Torah. Nonetheless, the great sage Reb Chanina ben Tradyon continued to study and teach students, to ensure the continuity of Torah.
When his senior colleague, Reb Yosi ben Kisma, warned him that he might be killed, Reb Chanina wanted to know if when he died he would merit entering into the World to Come. Reb Yosi asked him if he ever did anything righteous. Reb Chanina responded that he once confused money he put away for his Purim feast with money he put away for charity for the poor, so he just gave it all to charity.
When Reb Yosi heard this, he exclaimed: “I wish I could have your share in the world to come!”
The story is as strange as it gets. At a risk to his life, Rabbi Chanina persevered in this effort to teach Torah. Despite this awesome sacrifice, Rabbi Chanina and Rabbi Yosi cast doubts as to whether Rabbi Chanina is deserving of the World To Come?? We really need to find some other good deed? How can you compare a minor act of charity with sacrificing his life for teaching Torah? What was so significant about it?
Rabbi Schneur Zalman the first Chabad Rebbe, presented the most powerful answer.
Reb Chanina ben Tradyon was a brilliant intellectual; and his spiritual sensitivity to truth was incredibly profound. He is considered to be one of the greatest sages in the history of Judaism. His thirst for scholarship, knowledge, information, depth and truth knew no bounds. For him, life without the study and teaching of Torah was inconceivable. Like taking away a piano from Mozart, for Reb Chanina a life devoid of teaching Torah was not worth living.
But, as beautiful and inspiring as that is, it was his nature. Mozart’s affinity to music was not a product of his work; it was an inborn talent. So too, Reb Chaninah’s love to Torah was part of his disposition and nature—he was wired this way.
The question Reb Yosi asked him was did he ever transcend his nature, disposition and comfort zone? Did he ever go beyond himself to become Divine? To enter into the World to Come, a world in which the Divine infinity is manifested, one needs to be able to transcend his ego, even his spiritual ego, and open himself up to infinity. Reb Chanina, did you ever do something like that?
Reb Chanina understood the question, and he spoke of how he distributed extra money to charity. Social hermits are not spenders. Spenders are usually more of the social type. The fact that Reb Chaninah could combine both in his life demonstrated that he was a man who lived moment to moment with G-d. He was ready to reinvent himself at any moment. He was not stuck in his paradigms. He was completely flexible to what is the calling of the moment. Indeed, he was a man of Olam Haba, a human being who became a channel for the Divine.
There was once a rich man who invited a lot of his friends to his house for a big party. At the party, he took his friends to the backyard where there was a swimming pool. The swimming pool was filled with a few man-eating sharks.
The rich man announced that if someone would swim from one end of the pool to the other end, the rich man would give that man anything he wanted. Thirty seconds passed. Forty-five seconds passed. Finally, a minute later, there was a splash, and a man was frantically swimming for his life from one end of the pool to the other end trying to avoid the sharks. Somehow, the man made it to the other end of the pool.
When he got out of the pool, the rich man congratulated him and said, “As I promised, I will give you whatever you want. Tell me what you want.” The man, who was breathing heavily, said, “I want to know the name of the guy who pushed me in the pool!”
In our lives, it is G-d who pushes us in the pool. G-d creates challenges for us that may at first seem insurmountable. We find ourselves in situations that seem unmanageable, unfair, and make us wish we could just bury our heads in the sand. But when we are pushed in, forced to step up to the task, so often we find that we are capable of more than we realized. And only then do we see our own potential. We are summoned to recreate ourselves!
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky
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