Parshas Vayeira 5783
Last year, we made a point of scheduling our shul “Hachnassas Orchim Shabbaton” to coincide with Parshas Vayeira. The image of Avraham Avinu recovering from his bris milah and keeping watch for potential guests on a sweltering hot day is precisely what we should keep in mind when we consider the importance of playing host to those in need. This year, the Shabbaton has already been held. Perhaps it’s bashert. Because we should consider not only how to provide chessed, but also how—and when—it is to be accepted. As hosts, we should strive to be like Avraham. But as guests, we should consider the behavior of the angels.
The Torah describes Avraham taking note of the passersby with the word “וירא—and he saw.” But the word is used twice, prompting Rashi to explain that the second usage is not to indicate Avraham’s seeing the would-be-guests with his eyes, but refers to his comprehension and understanding of how they acted. Specifically, Avraham “saw,” that is, he understood, why the guests remained at a distance, despite the fact that he was clearly approaching them to invite them in. Avraham realized that, in Rashi’s words, “לא רצו להטריחו—they didn’t want to burden him.”
Our communities are built upon the values of Avraham and Sarah. We sit by the entrance to our tents, peering out at the world beyond, and are prepared to offer food and shelter, comfort and conversation to all those in need. We cook meals for those whose lives have been upended by tragedy or by celebration, we host guests, and we ready ourselves for the Erev Shabbos SOS call from someone whose car broke down on the Turnpike and needs a place to stay. Chessed has become the hallmark of the Jewish community. Avraham and Sarah would be proud.
But it’s worth pausing every now and again and asking—would the angels be proud? Chessed, hospitality, and giving have become so interwoven into the fabric of what our communities are about, that we can forget to fulfill the mandate of derech eretz presented by the angels—to hesitate before accepting that kindness.
Rashi describes the angels as being conscious of the fact that by accepting Avraham’s invitation, they’d be a tircha—a burden to him. They’re not wrong. Avraham would expend significant effort and hefty expense in putting out a spread for these guests. To be sure, this was what Avraham wanted to do. It’s what he longed for and represented an opportunity to walk in the footsteps of Hashem. But the toil, effort, and burden cannot be denied.
The angels ultimately accept. But they hesitate. And there’s great merit in doing so.
At the very least, when we pause before accepting another’s kindness, we have the chance to reflect and to appreciate. When we hesitate for a bit, allowing some mental rumination over not wanting to put the other person out, we’re less likely to take their chessed for granted and give ourselves the chance for sincere gratitude. Our communities are infused with such remarkable kindness that we can come to take it for granted or even begin to feel entitled as a result of being members of the community ourselves.
There’s another factor to consider as well. The angels stop and consider the burden imposed on their host. If we are regularly doing the same, there should be no small number of chassadim that we could be asking for that we ultimately don’t. We simply cannot impose our burden upon another.
How do we decide? When do we politely request, and when do we avoid asking for another’s help and assistnace?
A helpful rule I think is to compare the burden we’re asking the other person to take on relative to what our own burden would be. “Can we come for Shabbos? We’ll be stuck in a hotel outside the eruv otherwise” is an obvious example of a fair ask to make because the burden incurred by suffering through such a miserable Shabbos so obviously outweighs the burden being asked of others to host. But “Can we come for Shabbos? We’ve had a stressful week and are too tired to cook” should give us more pause. Our hosts may well have experienced stress this week as well. The burden we’d experience is likely not very different from the one we’re asking someone else to take on.
Every scenario is different. But it begins where the angels began—pausing to recognize that giving another the opportunity for chessed is also placing a burden upon them.
There are thousands of ways we do and could rely upon the kindness and generosity of others. That such kindness is available is proof that we are following in the footsteps of Avraham and Sarah. But we must follow in the footsteps of the angels as well. Those footsteps were slow to form—they stood their ground, hesitating, considering—before they ultimately followed Avraham home. If we pause before accepting chessed, we can become more grateful than if we take the kindness of others as a given. And if we pause, we may find that it is we who should be doing the chesed, by withholding the burden from our friends’ shoulders.