TRAIL
TRAVAILS: PARSHAT VAYERAH
Shira Smiles shiur
– October/Cheshvan 9, 5774
Summary by Channie
Koplowitz Stein
Hagar, Sarah’s maidservant and the second
wife of Avraham Avinu, is an enigmatic personality. According to
tradition, she
was the daughter of Pharaoh himself, given as a gift to Avraham when
Pharaoh
recognized Avraham’s spiritual greatness. Not only
was she the wife of our patriarch, but she also merited in her own
right to
converse with angels on at least two occasions. Yet, when she is
banished with
her son from Avraham’s house, the Torah states that
she departed and “strayed” in the desert of Beer Sheva, and when the water
Avraham
had supplied ran out, she threw her son under one of the trees and
moved away.
Rashi, arguably the greatest of all Torah commentaries, interprets Hagar’s straying as straying from the spiritual path
and
returning to the idol worship of her father’s
house. Later commentators struggle to understand Rashi’s deeper meaning, for it is inconceivable that a
woman of
such great spiritual heights would fall to such a degree as to embrace
idolatry, albeit she grew up in such a household. As further proof that
Rashi’s interpretation must be examined more deeply,
the
commentators cite that not only did Hagar subsequently speak with an
angel, but
Avraham remarried her after Sarah’s death. Certainly Avraham would
not have taken her back if she had reverted to idolatry.
In reference to human failures and sins recorded in the Torah, Rav
Dessler
cautions us to approach carefully, for we are not as finely attuned
spiritually
as were these giants appearing in the Torah, and what the Torah records
as
failures are not sins in the egregious sense that most humans would
call sin.
Rather, because of the high moral ground upon which they stand, Hashem
holds
them accountable to a very high standard so that a hairsbreadth
deviation is
sinful for them whereas Hashem would perhaps view it just as a minor
indication
of human fallibility in our case. This is perhaps more
understandable for
us, says Rabbi Reiss, in the case of Yosef speaking ill of his
brothers, for
example, or for Moshe hitting the rock instead of talking to it to
release
water. The yetzer horo attacks us differently from how it would attack
a
tzadik, for we will rationalize our actions while they would not.
But even on this level, the Torah does not whitewash our righteous
people, for
we do not believe in “saints”; rather there is no human being that has not
sinned during
his life. So then, what could have been meant by the straying of Hagar?
Rabbi
Wolbe explains that while we are accountable for our actions, the
giants of
Torah are accountable for their thoughts as well. Hagar’s sin was the thought of returning back other
fathers
house. Our Rabbis point out that the well of water the
angel showed
her was there all the time, but she did not see it until Hashem “opened her eyes” to it. Yet even then, she
filled the pitcher completely, not trusting that Hashem would continue
to
provide her and her son with water later, notes Rabbi Druckerin Darchei
mordechai. On her level, that was a lack of faith.
Hagar’s lapse can perhaps be
approached on a more sympathetic level. Rabbi Matlin, in Netivot
Chaim
would have us note that trauma can be spiritual as well as physical.
Hagar’s banishment from the home of Avraham made her
both
physically and spiritually vulnerable to a lapse in faith and a
momentary
nostalgia for the idolatrous home of her father. During that moment,
the
Hammite Egyptian nature of her birth emerged, writes Rav Samson Raphael
Hirsch.
When her son is thirsty and she cannot provide water, she throws him
down
beneath a tree not because she is compassionate, but because she cannot
bear
her own pain to see his suffering. She does not hold him and comfort
him,
although she did not lose sight of him completely. Therefore God
listened to
the voice of the child, not the voice of the mother. Only when Hagar
went back
to the child, took his hand in hers again and reclaimed her
responsibility as a
mother, did Hashem open her eyes so she could see the well. Even then,
Rabbi
Mordechai Gifter notes in Pirkei Torah, she first filled the
pitcher
completely before she gave her son to drink. At that moment, her
concern for
the future trumped her concern for her child, and corroborated her lack
of
faith. Yet she took hold of the child and regained her faith, as the
episode
concludes with Hagar caring for her son and seeking a wife for him.
Rabbi Shmuelevitz sees a message here for us as well. Life will always
have
sudden disappointments and traumas. We must grab hold and hold on
tightly to
our faith so as not to fall into despair. If we become petrified, we
open the
door for the yetzer horo to entice us to sin through a lack of
faith. At
difficult times, we must regain our equilibrium and faith, as Hagar
did.
Rabbi Frand sees another lesson for us in this episode. Life is full of
pitfalls and struggles, writes Rabbi Frand in Listen to Your
Messages.
King Solomon in Proverbs writes that the tzadik falls
seven times
and rises up. This verse Rabbi Frand interprets to mean that one
becomes
righteous by the fall itself and then struggling to get up, for it is
only
through the struggle initiated by the fall that one grows.
Rabbi Mordechai Gifter in Pirkei Torah quotes Rabbi Pagramansky,
and notes
a lack of faith near the beginning of this episode. The Torah notes
that Hagar
strayed, or was lost, in the desert of Beer Sheva. A person of faith is
never
lost, notes Rabbi Gifter, for he knows that wherever he is, that’s where Hashem wants him to be and that is part
of Hashem’s plan for him, for Hashem prepares the steps of
man. Yet
our eyes may be closed, and we do not recognize the purpose of our
present
location, just as Hagar could not see the well that was right in front
of her
eyes. If we feel lost, it is only because we have lost faith in Hashem’s plan for us and we want to be in total control
of where
we are.
It is precisely this point that Rabbi Gamliel Rabinowitz discusses more
fully
in The Essence of Emunah. If we understand that nothing happens
by
chance, that Hashem has orchestrated everything that happens to us for
our
benefit, we will never feel lost or frustrated. We will never be angry
at our
fellow, cast blame for something that occurred, or feel overwhelmed by
our
challenges, for we would know that all is as it should be. It is a lack
of
faith that brings us this uncertainty, confusion, and stress in our
lives.
Hashem coordinates a three pronged approach to what the world, and we
ourselves, need. That which needs to be accomplished, the person
through which
it will be accomplished, and the timing are all brought together as a
three ply
cord that will not be easily severed. Realizing this principle will
keep us on
an even keel and prevent us from feeling lost, even when things appear
difficult.
Rabbi Chaim Shmuelevitz presents a beautiful analogy on this topic. A
man of
faith is like a child in its mother’s bosom. It doesn’t matter where “life” and his mother carry him; he always feels safe,
for his
mother is always there, protecting him. But when he no longer feels his
mother’s presence, he is lost. When Hagar felt lost,
when she
threw her child down, she no longer felt the presence of Hakodosh
Boruch Hu.
That lack of faith, on her level, is a tinge of idolatry, a hint of
life lived
believing in coincidences and whims, as she experienced in the idolatry
in her
father Pharaoh’s house.
We often feel lost because our priorities are distorted, says Rabbi
Frand. He
cites Rabbi Ruderman’s lesson at a pidyon haben,
the redemption of the firstborn son. The officiating priest asks the
father, “Do you want to keep the five shekels, or do you
want to
give up the shekels and keep your son?” It is obvious that at that
moment every father opts to keep his son. Yet, this question is a
challenge for
the parents’ entire lives. Do they pursue
the dollar so avidly that they lose sight of being a parent, actually
being
there when their children need them, or are they relegating that
responsibility
almost exclusively to strangers? Keep your priorities straight,
for
pursuit of the dollar or of other life’s pleasures at the expense of
the pursuit of Torah and a Torah lifestyle is also a form of dilatory,
reminds
us Rabbi Avigdor Miller quoted in Letitcha Elyon.
One can understand so many of these points, but how is Hagar’s filling her pitcher with water to be perceived
as a touch
of lack of faith? The Ohr Doniel quoting the Ohr Yahel,
points out
that Hagar had just experienced Hashem’s caring. He had opened her eyes
and she had seen the well of water He had provided. Hashem was
figuratively
inviting Hagar to travel with Him in His carriage. Should she not
believe that
the King would not provide for all her needs? Filling her pitcher at
that
moment demonstrated a lack of faith in Hashem’s
further providence, if not a lack of gratitude for the presentation of
the
water. Somewhere within her there was a hint of a doubt about her
future
survival in spite of the angel’s promise to her in the name of
God.
We are certainly not in complete control of our thoughts and may
sometimes find
ourselves questioning our faith, especially in times of stress. Yet we
too must
take hold of our responsibilities and grasp the outstretched hand, for
we
cannot know how Hashem will provide for us, but we must believe that He
will
provide in the manner that He sees fit, in a manner that will help us
grow
spiritually as well as physically.