First Impressions
It is a blistering hot day. Abraham, that
paragon of hospitality, is sitting by the door anxiously looking for passersby
that he can invite into his home. Suddenly, he sees three dust-covered desert
nomads trudging down the road. Before he brings them into his house, Abraham
asks them to wash their feet, because he suspects they might be pagans who
worship the dust of their feet. Then he feeds them lavishly.
Before they leave, the
travelers, really angels in disguise, inform Abraham that Sarah would give
birth in a year. Sarah overhears and bursts into laughter. After all, Abraham
is one hundred years and she herself is a sprightly ninety, not exactly the
height of the child-bearing years.
The Almighty, however,
does not consider the situation humorous. He asks Abraham why Sarah found this
a laughing matter, and Abraham, in turn, rebukes Sarah for laughing.
Let us consider for a
moment. What had Sarah done wrong? After all, she did not know that the dusty
wayfarers were really angels. Why then should she have thought that their
blessings were efficacious? Can she be blamed for finding the fanciful good
wishes of these wayfarers laughable?
The commentators
explain that Sarah might indeed not have known that the wayfarers blessing her
were angels, and this was exactly the reason she deserved to be reprimanded.
She saw before her people who dressed differently, spoke differently, thought
differently, and therefore, she looked down on them. She did not consider the
blessings of such people worthwhile.
But how could she judge
who is worthy and who is not? How could she know what lay within the hearts and
souls of other people? How could she determine their inner value?
This was the reason
Sarah was reprimanded. She took one look at these dusty wayfarers and instantly
jumped to the conclusion that they were worthless people whose blessings were
equally worthless.
A young man approached
the stately house and knocked on the door. There was no response. He knocked
again. Still no response.
Suddenly, he heard a hoarse voice speak. “What are you doing
here, young fellow?”
He turned and saw an old man dressed in tramp’s rags sitting
on the ground, his back against the wall. He had not noticed him before.
“I’ve come to see the great sage, old man,” the young man
replied. “I want to become his disciple and learn from his knowledge and
wisdom.”
“Hah!” said the tramp. “He doesn’t have so much knowledge, and
he has even less wisdom.”
“How dare you?” the young man replied in a flash of anger.
“What does a person like you know about knowledge and wisdom?” He turned back
to the door and resumed knocking. Still no response.
The following day, the young man returned. His knock was
answered by a servant who showed him into the presence of the sage. Amazingly,
the sage seemed to be the identical twin of the beggar.
“You recognize me, don’t you?” said the sage, “I was the man
sitting on the ground. I am afraid I cannot accept you as my disciple.”
“But why?” the young man asked plaintively. “How was I to know
it was really you?”
“You saw a man,” said the sage, “and based on his outward
appearance you decided that he could now nothing about knowledge or wisdom. You
can never be a disciple of mine.”
In our own lives, we are called upon to make value judgments
about other people all the time. Whether it is in a business, social or any
other setting, we tend to jump to conclusions about new people. We rely on
first impressions. We look at their clothing, their accessories, their bearing,
their air of sophistication or lack of it, and we make assumptions about their
intelligence, character, talents and social standing. First impressions are
certainly important, and we should always try to make a good first impression
on others. Nonetheless, it is unfair to pigeonhole and stereotype people on the
basis of external appearance. Appearances can be deceiving, and we could be
missing out on some very fine blessings.
A Glimpse of the Divine Presence
The Lord appears to
Avraham at a very strange time. He is convalescing from his surgical
circumcision; the day is very hot and it is high noon; and he is apparently
looking for human company as he sits at the entrance to his tent. And even
though he does espy three strangers and invites them in, the Lord, so to speak,
interrupts this happening by appearing just then to Avraham. He is left
conflicted as to which of his meetings he should give precedence to.
The rabbis deduce from
Avraham’s behavior that greeting and hosting human guests even takes precedence
over communicating with the Divine Spirit! But the fact that such a
juxtaposition of events occurs at the same time is itself a great lesson in life
and faith.
The Lord appears to people at strange and unpredictable times.
To some it is in sickness and despair. To others it is at moments of joy and
seeming success. Some glimpse the Divine in the beauty and complexity of nature
while others find their solace and epiphany in the halls of study and in
challenges to the intellect. Since we are all different in nature and outlook,
the Lord customizes His appearance to each one of us to fit our unique
circumstances.
Thus people experience
their own sense of spirituality and connection to their inner essence and to
their Creator differently and at different moments in their lives. Some are
frightened into such an experience while others enter into it with serenity and
confidence. But we can certainly agree that there is no one-size-fits-all when
it comes to dealing with our souls and the eternal One.
The Lord appears to
Avraham at the moment of his hospitality and tolerance towards strangers. In
the tent of Avraham and Sarah, creatures can enter as Bedouin Arabs covered
with desert dust and leave refreshed as radiant angels. It is in the service of
others and in the care for the needs of others that the Lord appears in the
tent of Avraham and Sarah. It is in the goodness of their hearts that the Lord
manifests His presence, so to speak, to Avraham and Sarah.
Every one of us has
traits and a nature that defines us. Just as chesed – goodness, kindness, and
care for others – defined Avraham and Sarah, so too are we defined by our
concerns, habits and behavior. And it is within that background that the Lord
appears to each of us individually, if we are wise enough to recognize His
presence, so to speak.
The prophet Yirmiyahu
teaches us that in times of trouble and sickness the Lord appears to us “from
afar.” But, nevertheless, He appears to us. The great Rabbi Menahem Mendel of
Kotzk was asked: “Where can one find God?” He answered in his usual direct
fashion: “Wherever one is willing to allow Him to enter.” The performance of
the acts of Torah and goodness, the bending of our traits and will towards
service and concern for others, are the means by which we will glimpse the
Divine presence within ourselves and in our homes – in health and contentment.
Shabat shalom,
Rabbi Berel Wein
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