Shabbat Vayeira
After the birth of Isaac and a peace treaty with the Philistine king, Abraham does something that sounds ordinary: he plants an eshel. Our Sages disagree about what that word means. One says it was an orchard. The other says it was an inn, a place where tired travelers could stop for food, drink and rest.
The Lubavitcher Rebbe teaches that this "ordinary" inn was actually something new. It was the first public institution in history devoted to spreading belief in one G-d and the ethical life that comes from that belief.
Influence Beyond the Walls
What strikes me most is this: Abraham's inn changed people who never walked through its doors.
In a world of idols and accepted "truths," a well-known place that stood for something different was itself a statement. Caravans talked about it along the trade routes. People who never ate at Abraham's table still heard that there was a man in Beersheba who welcomed every stranger in the name of one G-d. As word of it spread, its influence grew deeper and wider.
The same is true today. A synagogue, a Torah school or a Jewish community center affects a whole city just by being there. That's on top of the great value of the prayer and learning that happen inside it. The lights on in the shul on a weeknight, the sukkah on the front lawn, the menorah in the window all tell everyone who passes by that G-d is present here.
This is a good reason to value our own community and every institution we help support. Each one is an eshel in its own Beersheba.
"He Caused Others to Call"
The verse holds a second lesson. The Talmud (Sotah 10a) reads vayikra, "he called," as if it said vayakri, "he caused others to call." Abraham didn't just announce G-d's name himself. He got his guests to say it.
After a traveler had eaten, he would get up to thank his host. Abraham would answer: "Did you eat from what is mine? You ate from what belongs to the G-d of the world!" Then he taught them to bless the One who provides for every creature.
Not every guest was convinced. Abraham tried explanations and parables, and some people stayed unmoved. For these doubters, the Midrash says, he got bolder. If a guest refused to bless, Abraham handed him the bill. Wine, meat and bread are very expensive in the middle of the desert, he would point out. Faced with that, the guest would think again and say the blessing.
Why push so hard? Because every person believes in G-d on some level. In some people that knowledge is asleep and needs a firm, loving nudge to wake up. Abraham wasn't forcing anything on his guests. He was uncovering something already inside them.
"But Does It Count?"
Some people object to this kind of outreach. They ask: if someone puts on tefillin or lights Shabbat candles only because another person urged them, does it really mean anything?
The Lubavitcher Rebbe's answer is clear: yes, absolutely.
First, doing a Divine commandment is a great achievement in itself, whatever led up to it. A mitzvah is a moment of real connection between a person and G-d, and it doesn't lose value because someone else suggested it.
Second, the outside push often wakes up the person's own hidden wish to do the mitzvah. Our Sages teach that "one good deed leads to another" (Avot 4:2). The person who lit candles once because a friend asked may well find themselves, a few months or years later, keeping more and more mitzvot joyfully and on their own.
Abraham's guests sat down as travelers and got up having blessed G-d. Some of them surely carried that moment with them for the rest of their journey.
Our Own Eshel
We're all Abraham's children, and we've inherited his inn. Each of us can be a positive influence in two ways:
- By our presence. Our homes, our community and our institutions can stand for something just by existing. The way we treat guests, run our businesses and speak to others sends a message to people we may never meet.
- By our encouragement. We shouldn't be shy about inviting a friend to a Shabbat meal, offering to help someone put on tefillin, or handing a neighbor a pair of Shabbat candles. Don't stop to ask whether it will "count." Every mitzvah counts, and every mitzvah can lead to the next.
This week, let's each plant an eshel of our own: one invitation, one encouraging word, one open door. The name of G-d may then be proclaimed in places we never expected.
Shabbat Shalom
Sincerely,
Rabbi Gershom Baraza