Are You Really Doing Chessed?

By Rabbi Moshe Krieger, Yeshivas Bircas HaTorah (www.bircas.org)

The Torah in this week’s parsha describes the extraordinary chesed of Avraham Avinu. On the third day after his bris milah, when the pain is usually strongest, he sat at the entrance of his tent in the blazing heat searching for guests. When he saw three travelers approaching, he ran to greet them, brought them into his home and personally served them a lavish meal.

Chazal compare Avraham’s hachnasas orchim with that of Iyov. The Midrash (Pirkei D’Rebbe Eliezer 7:1) explains that Iyov also did tremendous chesed. He had a house where anyone could come for food, clothing, and drink, and he provided generously for all their needs. When Iyov later suffered, he turned to Hashem and said, “Why am I being punished? I did chesed just like Avraham!” Hashem responded that Iyov’s chesed was still not on the level of Avraham’s; it was only half.

Iyov indeed was a baal chesed. However, he waited at home for people to come to him. Whoever arrived received what he needed, but Iyov did not go out to look for those in need. Avraham Avinu, on the other hand, actively searched for guests.

Moreover, Iyov gave people what was normal for them, standard food such as bread. Avraham went beyond that. Even though his guests were desert travelers who were not accustomed to eating meat, he served them the finest of beef from three calves. What, then, was Iyov’s chesed lacking, and why is it considered only “half” the chesed compared to that of Avraham Avinu?

The Sabba mi’Slobodka explains that Iyov gave people what they lacked: food, drink, clothing. That was very good and certainly chesed, but Avraham went further. He didn’t wait for people to come to him; he went out, in pain and in the heat, looking for guests to whom he could give. His giving came from a desire to be meitiv, to give the best to people, even beyond what was needed. He wanted the other person to truly enjoy. Even to those not used to meat, he said, “Try it, you’ll see it’s good.” He wanted to do the ideal chesed. This is how Hashem does chesed — not to fill a lack, but to give good for its own sake. He created the world purely in order to bestow good. Avraham followed this same path of goodness, actively seeking opportunities to give and trying to give in the best possible way.

The Chovos HaLevavos writes in sha’ar avodas Elokim that a person can give for different reasons, for example to ease his own discomfort at seeing another suffer or because he feels obligated by the circumstances around him. While such a person is praised, this is still a lower level of chesed.

I would add further: even when one does chesed in order to be mekayem the mitzvah itself — “Hashem commanded me to do chesed, I have to do it” — if the empathy for others is lacking, this is still not yet the ultimate level. Real chesed means that a person’s entire focus is on the good of the other. “What is truly the best I can do for him?” He is not merely trying to relieve his own discomfort or to check off a mitzvah. He is trying to be meitiv in the fullest sense.

The Shaarei Teshuvah (3:11) writes that a person must constantly think about the good of his friend, always looking for ways to help. That help can take many forms. Sometimes a person needs money. Sometimes he needs encouragement, someone to listen to him and strengthen his spirit. Sometimes he needs an eitzah, practical advice, or assistance in finding work, a doctor or some other resource. A person who wants to do true chesed asks himself again and again: “What can I do that will really benefit this person?”

The greatest chesed, however, is to help another Yid in his ruchniyus, to come closer to Hashem. Avraham Avinu did not only provide food and lodging. Chazal tell us (Sotah 10a) that he would invite people into his home, give them to eat and drink, and then say to them, “Do you think you should thank me? Rather, bless Hashem, the Creator of the world.” Through his hachnasas orchim, he drew people closer to emunah in Hashem.

The Chafetz Chaim writes (Ahavas Chessed 2:19) that the highest use of one’s tzedakah is to support talmidei chachamim and Torah institutions, because in addition to helping people with their physical needs, one is strengthening Torah and bringing more ruchniyus into the world. Rav Moshe Feinstein adds (Igros Moshe, Even HaEzer 26:4) that a person should give not only his money, but also his time and energy, to help strengthen others in ruchniyus.

All of this must be done in the best and most thoughtful way possible. My father-in-law, Rav Elimelech Meller zt”l, was a tremendous talmid chacham and a true baal chesed. He traveled to communities in America and South Africa, and wherever he went he would speak, teach and sometimes even sing with people to uplift them. He would give over a short vort to anyone he met, something they could remember and take with them. He would speak with people individually, giving them his time and heart, and trying to help them in their avodas Hashem.

The rabbi’s son shared a powerful story about his father. When he was younger and still learning in kollel in Tel Aviv, there was a fellow in the kollel who became very mentally ill. No one knew how to relate to him, and he was largely left alone. When he was hospitalized, nobody went to visit him. Rav Elimelech, however, went out of his way to visit him, to sit with him and to speak words of encouragement. He discovered that the family was extremely poor, so he went around collecting money so they could buy a refrigerator — then a big luxury — and his wife helped cook for them.

On Yom Kippur, when everyone else was in shul davening, Rav Elimelech stayed with this man the entire day so he would not be alone. He comforted him, uplifted him and spoke with him for hours. In time, the man recovered. The doctor later said, “The recovery did not come from me. It came from Rav Elimelech — his dedication, his visits and his constant encouragement.”

May we be zocheh to be meitiv like Avraham Avinu.