The study session in the kollel was over for the day. The
kollelniks gathered up the volumes scattered all over the
tables and returned them to their respective places in the
bookcase. One devoted member, a modest, unassuming person,
quickly collected the glasses, put them back in the tea
corner, and disconnected the electric urn; then everyone
went out to the waiting minibus parked near the entrance.
During the trip home, the members divided into subgroups
according to their particular types: the perpetual
masmid, who had left the kollel with a finger
securely ensconced inside the text he carried, took a seat
near the window and, without delay, reopened his text and
continued to study it at the very place he had left off.
Others sat silently, engrossed in their thoughts, perhaps
summing up what they had learned or trying to crack a tough
question that had come up in their study, or perhaps
anticipating the evening's activities at home. Some just sat
and talked, mainly on Torah- oriented subjects. Let us bend
an ear to their conversation.
" . . . and I approached an acquaintance from the
neighborhood, I won't say who," said Chaim, "and said to
him: `Look, I know you are free every Tuesday evening
because you aren't committed to any special shiur. I
have a favor to ask. Our neighbors are making sheva
brochos for a young couple that hardly has any family in
the country. They're distantly related and we're helping
out, too. Do you think you could come with your organ and
liven things up a bit? Any reason why not?' This guy writhed
uncomfortably and said, `I don't feel up to it. It would
mean a whole evening down the drain. I'm sorry, but it's not
for me.' I said to him, `Come now, you're exaggerating! You
need only come for an hour, an hour and a half at most.
That's not so terrible. How about it?' And do you know what
he said to me? `I'm not your freier. I'm not a sucker
who goes wasting an evening for others, just like that. Go
find yourself a professional musician or a band.'"
"Hold on a minute," said Yitzchok. "Don't forget that he has
a wife who hasn't seen him all day. He probably has to give
her a hand putting the kids to sleep or whatever. After all,
family comes first. Or as the posuk says,
`Mibesorcho al tis'aleim -- don't ignore your own
flesh and blood.' Why should he feel obligated to neglect
his own family to go and play for people he doesn't even
know?"
"I guess you have a valid point," conceded Chaim. "But had
he told me that he has to help in the house, I would have
understood perfectly and wouldn't have said a word. It was
that phrase he used that shocked me. `I'm not a
freier,' a sucker. What does that exactly connote?
`Don't think that you can take advantage of me, just like
that, for your own benefit.' Or, `I'm not the fool to go and
do whatever people ask of me. I'm not a naive or stupid
fellow who lets everyone walk all over him. If someone wants
to dine to the sound of music, they needn't come to me. I
have other things to do. I won't be taken advantage of.'
That's what the word really implies. And that's what so
terrible."
"Sorry," said Oded apologetically, "but I don't see anything
so terrible in his reaction. Your friend knows how to play
and you are blithely asking him to volunteer his time and
talent to play for the sheva brochos. Or for a
simchas beis hashoeva, or a chanukas habayis.
It certainly is exploitation of his kind heart. Or of his
naivete. Aren't there musicians to be had for hire? For
money you can get everything! Why should he agree to give of
his time and talents? Just because you asked him? So what?
Is this reason for him to sacrifice his evening? Why must he
feel obligated to be at everyone's beck and call and allow
people to take advantage of him?"
The passengers looked at one another in confusion. Then they
automatically turned to R' Meshulom, the senior member of
the kollel. When he began speaking, everyone strained to
catch every word over the humming of the motor. R' Meshulom
raised his voice somewhat and said, "Let's review a short
episode of our history according to the approach which we
just heard. Eliezer, Avrohom's steward, arrives in Choron
with a caravan of camels. He comes to the well, prays
fervently for heavenly assistance, and then Rivka appears to
draw some water, pitcher balanced on her shoulder. She goes
down to fill it up and when she ascends, Eliezer runs
towards her. No, he does not offer to help her carry the
heavy pitcher. Rather, he asks, `Give me some water from
your pitcher.' Rivka studies the man who accosted her and
the servants who are now tending the ten camels, and she
says, `Aren't you ashamed of yourself? You look hale and
hearty, and your servants look robust, as well. No one here
is crippled, and you want to exploit a little girl of three
to draw water for you? I'm no one's fool. Nor am I naive or
simple. I won't be your sucker, your freier. If
you're too lazy to go down a few steps to the well, you
can't be that thirsty. Anyway, what do I care if you remain
thirsty? That's your problem and it's none of my business.
And besides, they're waiting for me at home. B-y-e . . . '
"
A burst of laughter drowned out the rumbling of the motor
and evoked looks of surprise from the other passengers. But
R' Meshulom was not yet finished. "If Rivka Imeinu would
have answered him thus, she wouldn't have been worthy of
entering the home of Avrohom Ovinu, the master supreme of
hospitality, and of becoming one of the four Matriarchs. She
could not have fitted into the structure of chessed
of those who established the foundations of the Jewish
people. She would not have been able to bequeath to her
children that heritage of kindness that is one of the
distinguishing hallmarks of our nation: doers of
chessed. All of our history would have been different
and Rivka, daughter of Besuel, would not have figured in
it."
"I apologize," said Efraim, "but I must say that Rivka, as
you just portrayed her now, might have gained recognition as
a wise and perceptive child in the modern context. A girl
who knows how to protect herself against unfair
exploitation. So what is really so bad about this type of
person?"
"I didn't say there is something wrong with it. I said that
she would not have earned the privilege of figuring in the
construction of the House of Israel. The story of
chessed begins with Avrohom Ovinu. He did not inherit
or acquire the tradition of truth from his father Terach,
who was a manufacturer of idols. Avrohom was inquisitive
about the world; he probed its workings by himself and came
to the conclusion that it had a Creator. Furthermore, he
discovered the central guideline that characterized the
Creator in His works: unending, limitless lovingkindness
showered upon all of His creatures, which He sustains and
provides for through grace, compassion and goodness.
"He delivers oxygen straight to the nostrils of all
creatures, even the sloths, even those who defy His will
through rebellion. Chessed builds and sustains the
world. And that is not yet all. Avrohom understood that not
only does Hashem's kindness fill the earth; it is the
prerequisite of the world, and the requisite of mankind.
This He expects reciprocally from man who was endowed with
reason and understanding. Hashem expects man to emulate Him
in the area of chessed.
"This was the root of Avrohom's practice of hospitality
towards erstwhile passersby. This was behind his persistent
pleadings on behalf of the people of Sodom. And this
characterized the steadfast training and inculcation of
these values to his family and household. This was the basis
for Hashem's love for Avrohom to the extent that Hashem is
referred to by us as `the G-d of Avrohom.'
"Just like your acquaintance could theoretically send the
people making sheva brochos elsewhere to find a
musician, so could Avrohom Ovinu have hung a notice on the
door for all wayfarers to see: `This is NOT a kiosk or a
restaurant. Please go to Aneir, Eshkol and Mamre down the
road who will provide you with food and drink for a very
reasonable fee.' Had he done this, it would have been no
sin, but he wouldn't have been Avrohom Ovinu, either, and he
would not have exemplified what we know as `the
chessed of Avrohom' and all that went with it. His
unique stature, singularly outstanding throughout all of
history, and his spiritual level as one who emulated the
Creator and founded the Jewish nation -- all these would not
exist.
"A person who is offered a million dollars but refuses to
take it will not be punished for it. One who is given the
opportunity to emulate his Creator, Who was the chaperone
and the wedding band, as it were, at the wedding of Adam and
Chava in Gan Eden of yore, might refuse it with the
explanation that he is `not a sucker.' And he won't be
punished for it. But can there be a greater punishment than
losing the exalted level of striving to be like the
Creator?"
