blogs/rabbi-huberman

It doesn’t take long in this week’s Torah portion for Jewish tradition to make an important theological point.

God does not play, “Let’s make a deal.”

Of course, it is natural, when trouble hits, that we direct prayers to heaven—and declare—“God if you get me through this, I promise to always or never do that again.” To be clear—it is healthy to pray.

Prayer provides us with humility. It encourages us to consider how fragile life is, but the idea of “give and take” with God, is not generally supported by Jewish tradition.

We have a prime example of this as this week’s Torah portion begins. Soon after Abraham’s circumcision, God appears to Abraham “in the pine trees at the entrance of his tent as the day grew hot.”

It’s a landmark moment for Abraham. As the world’s first Jew, I’m sure Abraham had many questions to ask of God.

But then something unexpected happens. Moments later—three men approach the camp—angels who eventually will foretell the birth of Abraham’s and Sarah’s son, Isaac.

So what does Abraham do? He leaves God “standing there,” and rushes to attend to these strangers.

A sumptuous meal is prepared—a calf is slaughtered, cakes are baked. At first glance, Abraham seems to be leaving God behind. But is he?

And herein lies one of Judaism’s greatest teachings: God does not require our acknowledgement, praise or compliments. Rather, God needs us to look after each other.

Increasingly, we live in a world where transactions are valued above relationships. ”You watch my back and I’ll watch yours.”

But that’s not the picture the Torah paints. Repeatedly, God emphasizes in the Torah, “It is not your sacrifices and praises that I need from you.

“Rather—feed the hungry, clothe the naked,” and—as Abraham demonstrates this week—“attend to the stranger with hachnasat orchim—hospitality.”

When the Second Temple was destroyed by the Romans 2,000 years ago, our Sages questioned whether Judaism would survive. There was no longer a central place to worship and sacrifice.

The Talmud recounts that Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai (30 BCE-90 CE) comforted his distraught student, Rabbi Joshua, saying, “Don’t worry about the shattered Temple...Better that we devote ourselves to helping others. Let us focus on repairing the world through charity, kindness and prayer.”

So, when we pray, we clear space in our souls for the things that really matter—kindness, patience and empathy.

My late mentor, Rabbi Joseph Ehrenkranz, once shared as he battled illness: “I pray less to God to heal me and more that my doctors—who God loaded with skills—got a good night sleep and were clear headed—so that they made good decisions about me.”

During our standard morning prayers, not only do we pray for God to heal the sick, but we also ask God “to support those who occupy themselves with treating the sick.”

The prayer reminds us that there is so much still to do on this earth, and much of it is in our hands. Even during times when we feel lost in the wilderness, we must never lose hope.

So, this week—as God makes a cameo appearance at the start of our Torah portion—rather than prostate themselves in the Almighty’s presence, Judaism’s first couple leaves God’s side to attend to three of God’s creatures.

And we are all descended from that basic value.

When the Roman emperor, Julian (331-363), ordered the establishment of hostels for transients in every city, he referred to the example of the Jews “in whose midst no stranger goes uncared for.”

He noted that even in the worst of times, every Jewish community had a society to provide food and lodging for all travelers, without discrimination.

Not only is it the right thing to do, but it is likely the first mitzvah performed by Abraham and Sarah.

For beyond poems, prayers and promises, in spite of frequent pain and darkness, God calls upon us to dust ourselves off and commit to a better world.

And that as Jews, we don’t so much praise and negotiate with God, but rather we practice and live God.

One of the major lessons of the Bible is that “human leadership is flawed.” Abraham reminds us this week that while human beings come and go, God remains eternal.

Through Abraham and Sarah, God reminds us to continually recommit ourselves to life through charity, volunteerism, and the practice of hachnasat orchim—welcoming the stranger.

Indeed, so many of our fellow human beings need our help at this very moment.

As Judaism’s first couple teaches us in their first joint action as Jews—better to immediately attend to those in need.

Besides—God is not going anywhere.

Shabbat shalom v’kol tuv.

Rabbi Irwin Huberman