A man approached the great philanthropist, Baron Rothschild, asking for enough money to meet his needs for a month’s food and shelter. In an emotional crescendo he said, “Please sir, my house burned down and I lost everything!” Mr. Rothschild answered, “My friend, I don’t doubt you, but I must see a letter from your rabbi confirming your claims.” “Oy vey!” the man groaned, “in the fire, I also lost the letter!”

* * *

Vayeira: Secret to Fertility

Abraham and Sarah were famous for their philanthropy and kindness. Their tent was open on all four sides, inviting guests from every direction to enter. At the age of ninety-nine, Abraham was circumcised according to G-d’s request. Three days later, three angels visited him, giving him the news that his eighty-nine-year-old wife Sarah would bear a child.[1]

They (the angels) said to him, “Where is Sarah your wife?” And he (Abraham) said, “Behold, she is in the tent.”              — Genesis, 18:9

The word eilav, “to him”, has three nekudos (dots) on top: one on the Alef, the Yud and the Vav, respectively. These three dotted letters together spell Ayo, meaning, “Where is he?” Rashi interprets: not only did the angels ask Abraham, “Where is Sarah?” but they also asked Sarah, “Where is he; where is Abraham?” The angels are teaching us the good trait of inquiring about our hosts. To a man one should ask, “How is your wife?” and to a woman, “How is your husband?”[2]

TENT OF MERIT
The Kli Yakar [3] asks a practical question regarding this verse. Why did the angels have to ask Abraham where Sarah was? Angels are not bound by time and place. Therefore, they already knew where she was. Furthermore, they just finished speaking with Abraham. Why did they have to ask Sarah, “Ayo–where is Abraham?” The Kli Yakar explains: the question was not about the physical whereabouts of Sarah or Abraham. Rather, the angels were asking what z’chus, what merit, did Abraham and Sarah possess, that they deserved such a miraculous birth in their old age?

Abraham answers, “B’ohel”–’in the tent’, meaning, ‘The merit is in the tent.’ Abraham and Sarah had a large tent that was open on all four sides for guests. Wayfarers traveling through the dry, hot, dangerous desert found there an oasis of safety and nurture. Abraham and Sarah themselves reached out to invite guests, prepared lodging and meals, and served them hand and foot. All of this was just a means of spreading the awareness that there is “a G-d in this lowly world”.[4] In the merit of their hospitality, G-d blessed Abraham and Sarah with a child.

LIFE OF A TZADDIK
The Zohar says that when the soul of a tzaddik leaves this world, the tzaddik is even more available to us than during his lifetime.[5] This is because the tzaddik‘s life is not a life of the flesh as we commonly experience it, rather it is in a different dimension of reality–it is purely spiritual. The Alter Rebbe explains in the Tanya, “It is a life of faith, awe and love”[6]–love of G-d and the Torah. The letters Alef, Yud, and Vav, are the first letters of the words ‘faith, awe, and love’: Emunah, Yirah V’ahavah. These three qualities transcend the nature of life and death. Through them, tzaddikim have the ability to travel through all the worlds helping people, providing them with shelter and comfort, and satiating them according to their every need.

Thus, the dots over the Alef, Yud and Vav hint that the angels were telling Abraham, ‘We recognize that you and Sarah are both tzaddikim. Your total faith, awe, and love of G-d and his commandments have made you an oasis of eternal life for all. Therefore, G-d will bless you with extraordinary goodness. Your wife shall give birth to Yitzchak, the first Jewish child. You will parent the Jewish nation, which will endure for all eternity.

This concept is reinforced by the gematria of Ayo. Alef +Yud +Vav = 17. 17 is equivalent to tov, ‘good’. ‘Goodness’ is the essence of a tzaddik, a fully righteous person, as the prophet Isaiah says, “Praise the tzaddik for he is good.”[7]

A STORY
Rabbi Eliezer and Sarah were an elderly couple who lived in a tiny village in the Carpathian Mountains. They always exerted great effort in welcoming any guest who entered their home. They often hosted twenty or thirty guests at their Shabbos table. Rabbi Eliezer and Sarah had not been blessed with offspring, and they silently grieved over this.

One Shabbos day, after their meal had just concluded, they heard a loud pounding at the door. A hush descended on the room. “Who could that be at this time in the afternoon?”, Rabbi Eliezer wondered aloud. Opening the door, he was startled to find a weary looking stranger. “Good Shabbos, my dear friend, have you eaten?” asked Rabbi Eliezer. “Not yet,” said the stranger, tersely. “Come in, then,” Rabbi Eliezer said, quickly preparing a place at the table, and setting out wine and bread and sumptuous food for the stranger. He wondered where the stranger had come from. There had clearly been no visitors in town before Shabbos. How could this stranger have arrived at this hour unless he had desecrated Shabbos by traveling? Rabbi Eliezer kept quiet and continued to serve the stranger as if he were a king.

The guests began whispering to each other, “This is not right. That guy must have desecrated Shabbos, and look at how Eliezer is treating him. That shlepper doesn’t deserve it.” “How dare Eliezer condone this man’s desecration of the Holy Shabbos!” Finally one of the guests hissed loudly, “This is intolerable! Our sages would be displeased with Eliezer’s conduct–treating a blatant sinner with such respect!”

These comments pierced the gentle soul of Rabbi Eliezer, and he ran to the next room and burst into tears. He too was confused and unnerved to see a traveler enter his home on the holy day. But then he thought, “How embarrassed he must feel, and I, his host, left him alone at the table!” He gathered all his strength, returned to the dining room, and began to serve the stranger with even more enthusiasm and honor.

Later in the afternoon, Rabbi Eliezer served the stranger a sumptuous Third Meal, and as soon as Shabbos was over, he rushed to prepare him a bed. “I have a rule,” said Rabbi Eliezer, “that out-of-town guests must sleep over. You are free to leave after lunch tomorrow.” The next day, after yet another filling meal, the stranger rose to leave. Rabbi Eliezer gracefully escorted him out and walked with him a short distance before bidding farewell. The stranger then turned to him, with light in his eyes. “I am Elijah the Prophet,” he revealed. “G-d sent me to you to test you, and you did very well. I have good news. It has been decreed in Heaven that in the merit of your great hospitality, you will be blessed with a son. When the boy turns two-and-a-half, tell him these words: Fear no creature. Fear only G-d, the G-d of Heaven and earth.”

The next year, Sarah gave birth to a boy whom they named Yisrael. Yisrael, the son of Sarah and Rabbi Eliezer became known to all as “the Baal Shem Tov”.[8]

ACTION:This Shabbos invite a new guest to your home, someone who has never joined you for a meal before.

FOOTNOTES
[1] Abraham was 100 years old and Sarah was 90 years old when their son Yitzhak was born.
[2] The Rambam states that “a man should not send his regards to someone else’s wife.” This could be inappropriate. It is a noble trait, however, simply to inquire how another person’s spouse is. (See the Laws of Isurei Bi’ah, Chaper 21:5, as well as the Talmud, Bava Metzia, p. 87a.)
[3] The Kli Yakar (Rabbi Shlomo Efraim Lunshitz, c.1550-1619) was a Rosh Yeshivah in Lemberg and the Rabbi of Prague. He wrote a popular commentary on the Five Books of Moses.
[4] HaYom Yom, Cheshvan 22
[5] Zohar III, 71b
[6] Tanya, Igeret ha-Kodesh, ch. 27
[7] Isaiah, 3:10. See also Torah Ohr, 33a
[8] Adapted from The Great Mission: The Life and Story of Rabbi Yisrael Baal Shem Tov, Kehot Publications. Rabbi Yisrael Baal Shem Tov (c. 1698-1760) was a holy tzaddik, a great reviver of Jewish spirituality, and the founder of the Chassidic movement.