Mike Tabor goes twice a month to Heathlands to play music to cheer up the patients on the Alzheimer’s ward. There was one man on the ward who always seemed down and grumpy. No matter what Mike played, or what story he told ‘Grandpa Grumpy’ seem unmoved. One day after several months, while Mike was playing, he suddenly noticed that ‘Grandpa Grumpy’ seemed to be smiling! Wow, he actually could smile! Mike told me that he felt so elated; it felt so good to see the fruits of his labour. Months of music had finally penetrated into this man’s soul.
While Mike was floating on cloud nine, the smiling old man with great effort pulled himself up towards Mike and said [in words not befitting for a Dvar Torah!] something along the lines of, “Get lost Tabor! Shut up! You’re a load of rubbish!” Boy, did this man pop the balloon. From the heights of satisfaction, to the depths of frustration. Just when he thought his Chessed, his acts of kindness had borne some fruits, he realised that for this man at least his Chessed had failed.
You never know, concluded Mike, what your acts of Chessed will achieve. Even when you think that they have found their mark, you may be shocked into hearing that they have not! Our job is to try, but more than that is out of our control.
In this weeks Parshah we have a similar episode. Avraham, ninety-nine and having recently performed a Bris on himself, is sitting looking for visitors. Hashem sends him three angels in the guise of men and Avraham springs into action; he sits them in the shade and prepares them a most lavish meal. We are told in great detail exactly what he did for them and how he prepared the food. Seemingly a great act of Chessed.
There are various opinions about whether these men actually ate the food that was prepared for them or whether they just pretended, but one thing is for sure – angels don’t need food! Or shade! Why, when the Torah picks one act of kindness that Avraham did, does it choose to tell us about the hospitality he showed to the angels. This act of kindness was a dud, a project that failed? He never actually did any Chessed – they didn’t need everything! Avraham lived a life devoted to Chessed, his tent was literally an ‘open house’, surely there must have been some other great stories that show his selflessness?
The Torah is telling us something extremely fundamental, something that affects every Mitzvah, every act that we do. Allow me to explain: I remember quite clearly how my reports from grammar school looked. There was a list of all the subjects and next to it were two columns; ‘effort’ and ‘progress’. Very rarely did these actually differ, and when they did it was only by one grade. Once however, after having been absent [either physically or mentally] for the vast majority of the terms math’s lessons, I was presented with the grade, ‘U’ (unclassified – i.e. not even worth a grade) for ‘effort’ and ‘A’ for progress!!
When it comes to Mitzvahs there aren’t two columns, there is only the ‘effort’ column. The result of your action is really irrelevant. I can, and should, try very hard to do a Mitzvah but only Hashem can decide to allow me to actualise my inner desire. Whether ‘Grumpy Grandpa’ is cheered up is irrelevant. There were never any real recipients to the kindness that Avraham did, but his inner desire to want to do Chessed was there. This is where the grades lie – effort.
Perhaps with this understanding we can answer a question: why when the three angels are taken in to Lot’s house – an act of Chessed that risks his life – does he get very little coverage. We aren’t told any details about the food eaten!
The major difference between Lot and Avraham, was that Lot was aware that they were angels. He knew that they didn’t really need somewhere to stay, or something to eat, therefore his act never had that true inner drive! How much effort do you put into people who can quite easily look after themselves! The external act is not what you are marked on – the desire that spurs on the effort to do the act is what counts.
Good Shabbos
Yaakov