פרשת וירא

This week’s Parsha tells us about the tragic end of the 5 cities of Sedom. Hashem rained a fiery type of sulfur upon them until they were totally annihilated from the face of the earth as punishment for their wicked ways. However, there was one family in the city whom Hashem decided to save, and that was the family of Avraham’s nephew Lot. Rashi brings the Midrash which asks why it was that Hashem deemed Lot worthy of survival. The Midrash answers that when Sarah was taken captive in Egypt, and Avraham falsely claimed to the Egyptians that Sarah was his sister, Lot could have spoken up and blown their cover. But in the merit that he kept silent, Hashem decided to save him from the horrifying end of the city of Sedom.

R’ Ahron Kotler asks a very blatant difficulty on this Midrash. We know that Lot excelled in the commandment of hospitality. In fact, Lot was even willing to sacrifice his two daughters in order to protect the guests that were staying in his home from the evil Sodomites. Now granted that this seems like a twisted method of performing kindness, and is certainly misguided, but we see how much he was willing to sacrifice for the commandment to perform hospitality. Why then was the only merit that the Midrash could come up with was that he shut his mouth and didn’t rat out his holy uncle? Was this the sole merit that Lot was worthy to be saved?

R’ Aharon explains beautifully in the name of his Rebbe, the Saba from Slobodka, that we have clear indication that Lot’s kindness was not generated from his desire to keep God’s law, but was rather a mere imitation of Avraham’s kindness. It was nothing more than Lot’s attempt to reproduce what he saw in his uncle’s house. R’ Aharon explains that a facsimile of another person’s good deeds is not considered a merit because its source is not authentic. Hashem desires that we serve him with our hearts, with a genuine understanding and appreciation of what that means, and if we can’t provide that kind of legitimate service, Hashem does not want it.

I once heard a similar explanation from R’ Baruch Ber of the Gemorah in Berachos which records the famous argument between R’ Yishmael and R’ Shimon Bar Yochai. R’ Yishmael believed that a person should go to work and try to earn a living in addition to regular Torah study. R’ Shimon felt that if a person learns properly, his sustenance will be provided easily by others. The Gemorah says that many people tried to live like R’ Shimon, but were not successful. R’ Baruch Ber asked, if they truly did like R’ Shimon, why were they not successful? Was R’ Shimon wrong? It certainly seemed to work for him! R’ Baruch Ber explains that had those people who failed been sincere in their desire to do the will of God, then certainly they would have succeeded. But in truth, they were merely trying to mimic R’ Shimon’s actions. This kind of attitude will certainly not merit the existence that R’ Shimon spoke of. Only when one’s actions are truly genuine will one merit to live like R’ Shimon did.

The Gemorah in Pesachim, (50) says that a person should try to perform righteous deeds even if they are not for the sake of heaven, because by doing so, he will eventually reach the level where he is indeed doing them for the sake of heaven. R’ Simcha Zissel qualifies this Gemorah by saying that this will only happen if there is an aspect of his “non-Lishma” which is Lishma. In other words, he knows that he is not yet at the level where his intentions are fully altruistic, but his goal is to get there. However, explains R’ Simcha, if a person does a good deed with absolutely no thought in it whatsoever, or worse, with negative intentions such as for honor or respect, there is no question about it that this kind of “good deed” will never lead to altruism!

The Mesilas Yesharim (16) says that God desires genuine actions and not empty external portrayals of righteousness. R’ Dessler asks, how can a person reach such a lofty level in which all of his actions are truly authentic? R’ Dessler explains that the first step is to act out of modesty. The verse in Micha, which is quoted in the Gemorah in Succah in the end of the fourth Perek says, “One must walk with modesty”. The Gemorah explains that whenever one performs a good deed, one should do it out of modesty, hoping not to attract too much attention to one’s self. This kind of attitude will inevitably foster in a person a heightened sense of when his actions are genuine and when they are not, because he will no longer be dependant on the opinions of other people to derive his satisfaction. His actions will be hidden from the light of the public and will be between him and God.

R’ Yisroel Salanter points out shrewdly that often we think we are performing good deeds to sanctify God’s name, but if we take a closer look, we will be surprised to learn that our primary motive is to sanctify our own name. One effective way to avoid this is to practice this attitude of modesty and attempt to hide one’s accomplishments from the public eye.

Another facet to this crucial trait of modesty is to not only be humble in front of other people, but to also foster a sense of humility in front of one’s self. One should always believe that the good deeds that one performs are perhaps not as good as he imagines them to be. He should constantly remind himself that in light of the talents and gifts he has been given, his good deeds and accomplishments are perhaps not quite up to par with where they could be, and that even though he has tried hard to put in a good effort, he could always try a little harder. Only with these two methods, explains R’ Dessler, can a person be successful in reaching the point where his good deeds are authentic and not mere imitations.

R’ Dessler concludes with a moving Gemorah in the first chapter of the Taanis Yerushalmi. The Gemorah relates that there was once a time of terrible drought and nobody knew how to beg God for rain. One night, R’ Abahu had a dream where he was told that there was a certain man in the city, who was known as the keeper of the brothel, who should be approached to request rain. R’ Abahu, obviously a bit skeptical, approached the man and asked him what his job was. In a very detailed way, the man went about describing what his daily responsibilities were and how he had to ensure that all the “clientele” were satisfied, making no mention that he had ever done anything good, and seeming to portray himself as a constant sinner. R’ Abahu, understandably perplexed, asked the man if he had ever done any good deeds. The man responded that one time he heard a woman crying behind the brothel. He asked her what she was doing there. She responded that her husband had been taken prisoner by the non-Jews and that the only way she could afford to redeem him was by “renting” herself out. When he heard this, he sold his bed and linens and gave her the requisite moneys explaining that he preferred this then having her sin. R’ Dessler concludes perceptively, this man clearly had fostered a great deal of personal sacrifice in order to help other people, yet when R’ Abahu approached him and asked him what his job was, he apparently didn’t consider any of his numerous good deeds worthy of mention, and only afterward, when R’ Abahu pressed him, did he “recall” his outstanding behavior. Yet when one examines the Pnei Moshe on the Yerushalmi, one is surprised to learn that this man was a completely righteous individual and all of his actions were for the sake of heaven, and in spite of this, he didn’t seem to consider himself laudable. We too must attempt to foster such an attitude.

May Hashem help us to merit to serve Him authentically, with all the right intentions!