Firmly Planted

There are many Pessukim in Navi which speak about the future, foretelling the events of Achris HaYamamim and their impact. On one hand, these words are meant to reassure us, serving as a reminder that we will one day be extracted from this long and bitter Galus. These Pessukim are not merely poetic, however: within their soothing words lay the keys to affecting their fulfillment. When we come across such Pessukim in the Haftorah that discuss the Geulah HaAsida, then, we must be on the lookout for the hints so that we may soon rejoice.

The Haftorah for Parshas Achrei Mos comes from the very end of Sefer Amos. It should be noted that we Lein this Haftorah even when Achrie Mos and Kedoshim are together, indicating that there is a particular significance to this selection. While the majority of the Nevuah of Amos is Divrei Kevushin directed at the Aseres HaShevatim—words that were meant to steer away from the path the led to their Galus—his final words, read in this Haftorah, are Divrei Nechama meant for all of Klal Yisroel.

Despite our Avieros and missteps, Hashem promises us “Lo Ashmid Es Bais Yaakov”, Bnei Yisroel will not be wiped out. Rather, “B’Cherev Yomusu Ko Chatei Ami”, those who are certain that their actions will go unanswered will be punished, and the remainder of our nation redeemed. At the end of the Haftorah, our future is clearly heralded: “V’Shavti Es Shevus Ami Yisroel”, we will return to our land and rebuild the desolate cities, and enjoy the fruits of the land.

The final words of the Haftorah, and of Sefer Amos, is one that carries forth this theme, but in a way that is different from the proceeding Pessukim. For the most part, this Nevuah is written in relatively plain language, without much metaphor. For example, the Navi promises that we will return to Eretz Yisroel “U’Banu Arim Nishamos V’Yashvu V’Natu Keramim…” We will rebuild cities, and inhabit them, and we will plant vineyards. Most of the other Pessukim in the Haftorah are similar in that their meaning and intent is clear and understandable. The last Passuk, however is somewhat different.

The Navi tells us: “U’Nitatem Al Admasam V’Lo Yinas’shu Od M’Al Admasam Asher Nasati Bahem”. Hashem declares that He will plant us upon the soil of Eretz Yisroel, never to be uprooted. Now, the Lashon of “U’Nitatem” does not usually apply to people, but to plants, and so these words cannot be understood in their most literal sense—the Navi has turned to metaphor. While the allegory used by Neviim can sometimes be difficult to decipher, however, the Meforshim are united in their understanding of these words.

Radak, and others, point out that the term “U’Nitatem” refers specifically to a tree, as opposed to other plants. The Navi is therefore telling us that just as a tree which takes root cannot be moved from its place, so to our stay in Eretz Yisroel will be in perpetuity. We will no longer face Galus, rather we will be gifted the opportunity to live as Ovdei Hahsem on a permanent basis.

While we can now easily understand the meaning of these words, and their implication, we must understand why the Navi chose to use them. If the proceeding Pessukim were written openly, without metaphor, why the change for these final words? Certainly the promise of a future without the danger of Galus is at once welcome and exciting, but what message are we meant to take from the way this guarantee is issued?

Perhaps we can approach an answer to this question based on one of the various Medrashim that quote these words.

The Medrash Aggadah in Parshas Shmos speaks about the words “Haba’im Im Yaakov”, and explains that Bnei Yisroel are always “Ba’im”, always travelling from the “Olam HaChoshech” to Olam Habah. This in contrast to the Umos HaOlam who stay in their place, never progressing to higher levels of Kedusha or venturing towards Olam Habah. As a proof to this concept, the Medrash brings a Passuk in Sefer Yeshayahu which uses the words “Bal Natu” to express that the Umos HaOlam do not take root and therefore experience no growth.

Bnei Yisroel, continues the Medrash, are capable of Neti’ah, however, as the Passuk in Amos says: “U’Nitatem Al Admasam V”Lo Yinas’shu Od M’Al Admasam Asher Nasati Bahem”. The Medrash concludes that this Koach comes from Avrohom Avinu, about whom the Passuk tells us: “VaYita Eshel”. The Medrash seems to be telling us that the “Neti’ah” to which we will be Zoche in Acharis HaYamim, as the Meforshei HaPshat explained, will come in the Zechus of Avrohom Avinu. While we know that so much comes because of our inestimable Zechus Avos, we must understand why the concept of Neti’ah is specifically in the Zechus of Avrohom Avinu. Why will our ability to live in Eretz Yisroel without the fear of Galus be in the Zechus of Avrohom specifically?

The Medrash connects Avrohom to the concept of Neti’ah using the words “Vayita Eshel”, but we know that there must be more than a linguistic connection. In what way did the Eshel of Avrohom ensure that we will one day live an existence of “V’Lo Yinas’shu Od M’Al Admasam”?

These words, “Vayita Eshel” come from a Passuk in Parshas Vayera, which tells us: “Vayita Eshel B’Beer Sheva Vayikra B’shem Hahsem Kel Olam”. There is a dispute, brought in the Gemarah in Sotah about how to understand these words. Some explain that Avrohom planted a Pardes, an orchard, and fed passer-by from its fruits. Others understand that the Eshel was in fact a Pundeki, or inn, into which Avrohom welcomed his guests. Although the word “Eshel” does not mean inn, Rashi explains that the word can be seen as a Nutriken, or acronym, for the words “Achila Shita Lina”, the services provided to its guests.

The Gemara challenges one side of this dispute: if the Eshel of Avrohom was in fact a Pardes, then the term “Vayita” makes sense, as trees in an orchard are in fact planted. But, if the term refers to an inn, why does the Passuk say that Avrohom “planted” it—this is not a Lashon that applies to an inn? The Gemara answers by citing a Passuk in Daniel that does in fact use the word “Vayita” in relation to tents, showing that the terms are not in conflict.

Akthough this Gemarah is quite well-known, and is adopted by Rashi and other Meforshim to explain the Passuk, it is important to keep in mind that both approaches in the Gemara are based in Drush. The Targum of the word Eshel, and its most literal meaning, is “Ilana”, a single tree. Even according to the view that Avrohom planted a Pardes, this should be expressed by a word that is plural, as fits an orchard containing many trees.

There is, however, a lesser-known Medrash on these words that fits with the literal translation of the word “Eshel”.

The Yalkut HaChadash tells us that in each place that Avorohom travelled he planted a tree, but none took root until he settled in Eretz Yisroel. Then, the tree served a fascinating purpose: when people came to tent Avrohom and stood beneath the tree, Avrohom would learn about his guest. If the person was connected to HKBH, the tree would spread out above his head, providing him with shade. If, however, he was an Oved Avodah Zarah, the branches would avoid him, pointing straight up. Similarly, there was a spring under the tree that would rise towards someone who was Tahor, and recede away from one who was Tamei. In this way, Avrohom Avinu was able to gauge the level and stature of his guests and respond accordingly.

Perhaps this is the “Eshel”, the lone tree, to which the Passuk refers and that is connected to the concept of “V”Lo Yinas’shu Od M’Al Admasam”. That said, if we better understand the true purpose of this Tree, we may be able to explain the Medrash Aggadah.

Such a telling tree would be the dream of any Kiruv worker, instantly identifying those who required further Chizuk, but we must imagine that Avrohom Avinu had a higher purpose.

The Shefa Chaim of Klausenberg, in the Sefer Rava D’Ravin, speaks at length about the Avodah of Avrohom Avinu. The first of our Avos, explains the Rebbe, was not only focused on being Mamlich Hahsem, but on that which follows: Kiyum HaMitzvos. Avrohom was not satisfied with keeping the Sheva Mitzvos Bnei Noach, because he knew that one cannot create a relationship with HKBH absent a true commitment to all the Mitzvos.

This is approach best exhibited by the words spoken by Avrohom to Nimrod during the episode of the Kivshan HaEsh. The Otzar HaMedrashim tells us that Avrohom disparaged the Avodah Zarah of Nimrod at length and then exclaimed: “Hashem Hu HaElokim V’Ani Avrohom Avdo Ne’eman Baiso.” Explains the Shefa Chaim: Avorohom knew that it was not enough to recognize that “Hashem Hu HaElokim”, one must also see himself as an Eved Hashem, one who is dedicated to Torah and Mitzvos.

The tree that Avrohom planted, explains the Shefa Chaim, was used to teach this lesson. One cannot come halfway: in order to join the ranks of Avrohom, one had to separate himself from the Taivos and Tumah to which he was attached. When a guest arrived, the tree and spring would display the level of his commitment. If he was straddling the line—spending time in the presence of Avrohom yet still attached to his ways of old—it would be readily apparent. The Eshel, then, was integral to the Kiruv of Avrohom: it helped him communicate and reinforce the crux of his Derech: “Hashem Hu HaElokim V’Ani Avrohom Avdo Ne’eman Baiso”.

The Medrash Aggadah is now readily understood: the ability to stay in Aretznu Hakedosha, to live the dream of “V’Lo Yinas’shu Od M’Al Admasam’ lays in the Eshel of Avrohom.

We must be willing not only to declare “Hashem Hu HaElokim” but to live a life of “V’Ani Avdo Ne’eman Baiso”. So long as we cling to our ways of old, we cannot sit under the shade of the Eshel Avrohom. When we find our way back, however, when we earnestly desire to drink from Avrohom’s spring, we will see the fulfilment of this Nevuah. Is then that we will see the return of the Sukkas Dovid HaNofeles, and remain in our land evermore, swayed neither by the winds of change or the gales of the outside world.