A Little More
Vayera
The essay explores Avraham's hospitality towards the Malachim and the deeper significance of his words 'Yukach Nah Me’At Mayim', emphasizing the importance of taking small steps towards spiritual growth.
When we think about Avraham Avinu, one of the first stories that comes to mind is the one that appears at the beginning of this week’s Parsha. The Torah tells us that as Avraham was recovering from his Bris Milah, he was approached by three men, who we know to be Malachaim, whom he invited into his tent. The Pessukim describe Avraham’s words and actions in great detail, and are the source for much of what we know about the Mitzvah of Hachnosas Orchim and Gemilus Chasdim in general. As always, however, when we learn the Pessukim, with the relevant Divrei Chazal, another, perhaps unexpected, message emerges as well.
The Torah tells us that once Avraham asked these men, who he thought of as travelers, to stay at his home, he issued one simple instruction: “Yukach Nah Me’At Mayim V’Rachatzu Raglechem”, he would have someone bring them some water with which to wash their feet and then “V’Hishanu Tachas HaEtz”, they would be welcome to relax. It is clear from the Pessukim that Avraham’s request that they wash their feet was a precondition to the later half of the Passuk, and the following one in which they are offered food: only if they did so could they stay and take advantage of the hospitality. Rashi explains why this was the case: Avraham thought that they were “Aravim SheMishtachavim L’Avak Ragleihem”, Arabs who worshiped the dust on their feet, V’Hikpid Shelo L’Hachnis Avodah Zarah L’Beiso,” he did not wish for this forbidden substance to enter his home.
These words of Rashi are quite well known—even some schoolchildren could tell you why Avraham asked his visitors to wash his feet. They are not, however, without question. The Kli Yakar here asks why Avraham would not allow them to enter his home with unwashed feet: would Avraham not allow any dust at all into his tent for fear that if may have been used as Avodah Zarah? Further, the Kli Yakar points out that there were those who worshiped the sun during those days—would Avraham therefore not allow any sunlight into his home?
Before turning to the question of the Kli Yakar, let us take a closer look at the words from which the controversy arises. Though they may like a simple statement of protocol or procedure, it seems that there is more to the words “Yukach Nah Me’At Mayim”.
The Gemarah in Bava Metziah tells us that for every Chesed that Avraham did for these Malachim, for every comfort he offered them, his offspring were later paid back quite handsomely. In the Zechus of offering them a water to wash their feet, with the words Yukach Nah Me’At Mayim, the Gemarah tells us that Bnei Yisroel were Zoche to the Be’er in the Midbar. When we left Mitzrayim, then, and eventually need a water source in the desert, we were given a Be’er in the Zechus of these four words uttered over four hundred years prior.
Upon learning this Gemarah, which is of course cited by many of the Meforshei HaChumash, two questions come to mind.
First, why did the words “Yukach Nah Me’At Mayim” create such an everlasting Zechus? As we saw, Avrohom told his visitors to wash their feet because he was worried about them tracking their Avodah Zarah into his home—in what way was this Chesed? It does not seem as though the reward was for being careful about Avodah Zarah, because the Gemarah there also tells of the reward we received for Avraham giving the Malachaim food and attending to them—it seems that Chazal are honing in on the Gemilus Chassadim of Avraham Avinu. How then are we to understand the Chesed aspect of “Yukach Nah Me’At Mayim” and why it engendered a Zechus?
Second, even if we understand why Avraham was deserving of a reward for the words “Yukach Nah Me’At Mayim”, we must still explain why the reward was the Be’er in the Midbar. Obviously this Chesed was connected to water and the Be’er was a source of water, but one assumes that there is more of a connection. Why, when we were in the Midbar and searching for a water, was it the Zechus of “Yukach Nah Me’At Mayim” that stood for us and allowed the Be’er to come to our rescue B’Derech Nes?
With these questions in mind, we must come to the conclusion that the words “Yukach Nah Me’At Mayim” were of some import, and they therefore had such a long-standing impact. It is upon us to discover the true meaning of these words and their intent.
Turning back to the Be’er, which seems to be a focal point of many of the Chazal surrounding these words, there is another Gemarah with which we must contend.
The Gemarah in Taanis tells us that there were three “Parnasim Tovim” that Bnei Yisroel had in the Midbar—Moshe, Aron and Miriam—each of whom provided a “Matana Tova” necessary for our survival. “Be’er B’Zechus Miriam, Amud Anan B’zechus, Aron Mon B’Zechus Moshe.” The Be’er, the Gemarah tells us, was in the Zechus of Miriam and when she was Niftar it ceased to give forth water, which of course led to the Mei Meriva.
Now, some assume that the Gemarah in Taanis—which tells us the Be’er was given to Klal Yisroel in the Zechus of Miriam—and the Gemarah in Bava Metziah—which ascribes the Be’er to the Zechus of the words “Yukach Nah Me’At Mayim”—are in conflict. It is much more likely, however, that they work in tandem—that the Zechus of “Yukach Nah” is somehow connected to the Zechus whereby Miriam provided the Matana Tova of the Be’er. This notion is bolstered by the fact that Gemarah in Bava Metziah refers to the Be’er as “Be’era Shel Miriam”, indicating that the two Zechuyos are not independent or one another, but rather they are connected. We must then understand how—how are the Zechuyos of Avraham and Miriam linked to one another?
The truth is that while the Gemrah in Taanis notes that the Be’er was given to us in the Zechus of Miriam, it does not mention what Zechus that was. What was the Middah or action of Miriam that created the specific Zechus needed for the Be’er?
Rabbeinu Bachya, in Parshas Chukas, explains that the Be’er came to Klal Yisroel as a reward for the fact that when her brother Moshe was placed in the Nile by his parents Miriam stood by and watched him, as the Passuk there tells us: “VaTesatzav Achoso MeRachok L’Daas Mah Yaaseh Lo.”
While there is a clear link between that act and the Be’er—both are related to water—it once again seems as though there may be more at work. Really, if we think about it, Miriam’s actions were unrelated to the water itself, other than the fact that Moshe was in the Nile itself, it therefore stands to reason that there would be a more significant connection. What was the “Middah K’Neged Middah” which ensured that Miriam would be rewarded for her act of watching her brother in the form of the Be’er specifically?
The Chofetz Chaim, in his Pirush Al HaTorah, speaks about Miriam’s actions at that time, focusing on the words “L’Daas Mah Yaaseh Lo.” He notes that these words tell us about Miriam’s mindset at the time. The situation must have looked quite bleak: her baby brother, who showed so much potential, had been placed in a floating basket to fend for himself in a country hostile to Jewish baby boys. Nonetheless, explains the Chofetz Chaim, Miriam knew without any doubt that he would somehow be saved, that the Yeshua would yet arrive, and she stood by just to see how the events would unfold: “L’Daas Mah Yaaseh Lo”. Miriam did not for a second believe that calamity would befall Moshe, she believed that Hashem would send the proper Shliach, and she stayed by the riverbed to see whom that might be.
Miriam’s actions, says the Chofetz Chaim, are a lesson to us. In any situation in which we may find ourselves, no matter how hopeless it may seem, we must believe that the Geulah will come, that the Borei Olam will send us the proper “Pedus U’Revacha.” Like Miriam, we are to just stand by and wait to see how the circumstances will unfold, and how from where Shliach of hope and salvation will appear.
This approach to the words “L’Daas Mah Yaaseh Lo” would seem to fit very well with the Gemarah in Taanis that attributes the Be’er to the Zechus of Miriam. When Bnei Yisroel found themselves in the Midbar, with not a drop to drink, they approached Moshe Rabbeinu with a complaint: “Lama Hilisanu MiMitzrayim L’Hamis Osi V’Es Miknai BaTzama.” Why, they asked, did you take us out of Mitzrayim just to bring us to a desert where we will die of thirst? They were missing the lesson of Miriam: in every situation we must be aware that the Yeshuas Hashem is certainly in the offing. Even in a Midbar one can find water, perhaps even from from a rock, if such is the Ratzon Haborei. It was therefore only in the Zechus of Miriam herself that the Be’er came, and with it a lesson the lesson of “L’Daas Mah Yaaseh Lo”.
Perhaps a similar idea can be found in the actions of Avraham Avinu, in the words “Yukach Nah Me’At Mayim”.
As we mentioned, Kli Yakar asks Why would Avraham disallow the men from entering with dirty feet just because there were some people who worshipped the earth? Perhaps the simple answer is that Avraham was not concerned about a possibility—the men who stood before him appeared as those who participated in that form of Avodah Zarah. He knew with certainty that the dirt on their feet had been worshipped, that it was Ne’evad.
It was to these people specifically that he said “Yukach Nah Me’At Mayim V’Rachatzu Raglechem.”
We know that Avraham did not do Chesed only to be Mehaneh people physically—he wished to provide them spiritual sustenance as well. His life’s mission was to bring people Tachas Kanfei Hashechina, and his Gemilus Chasadim was the way to attract and engage them.
When men such as these arrived, Avraham saw a fresh opportunity to affect them, to enlighten and elevate them, but the men themselves may not have agreed. Perhaps steeped in their Avodah Zara as they were they would have felt it impossible to remove themselves from their current path—their very feet were sullied with the Avodah Zarah, it followed them wherever they went. How could they come closer to Hakadosh Baruch Hu, and dwell in his midst?
Avraham therefore said to them: “Yukach Nah Me’At Mayim”, we will give you a little water. We know that the Torah is often referred to as Mayim, and that was Avraham’s intent. All it takes is a start, a Me’At Mayim, and Hashem takes care of the rest. If you make the slightest effort to cleanse yourself, Avraham said, the rest comes with Siyata D’Shamya. That was the message of “Yukach Nah Me’At Mayim”: it is possible to begin entering Machaneh Shechina with just the slightest amount of Ruchnias.
In fact, there is a statement in the Medrash Tanchuma that supports this very idea: “Attah Amarta V’Rachatzu Raglechem, Ani Achartzem M’Kol Tumah.” As a reward for saying “V’Rachatzu Raglechem” Hashem promises that He will cleanse the children of Avraham of their inequities. Because Avraham encouraged these men, who seemed to be steeped in Avodah Zarah, to take the first step with Me’At Mayim and clean off their feet, Hashem promises to be the Metaher of Bnei Yisroel, forever upholding the promise of HaBa’ah LiTaher Misayin Oso.
The message of “Yukach Nah Me’At Mayim” thus fits well into the lesson of “L’Daas Mah Yaaseh Lo”, as both speak of the need to understand that we are not in control. Both in Ruchni and Gashmi we must understand that so little lies in our hands, and so much in Siyata D’Shmaya and Hashgacha Elyona. Avraham told the Malachim not to despair because a little Mayim goes a long way, as Hashem will help them continue on the path. Miriam seems to have taken this message to light in terms of physical survival as well: she was not concerned about whether her baby brother would be saved, only curious how that would happen. She too understood that, after a certain point, results are in the hands of Hashem.
As we mentioned, the lesson of Miriam fit well into the Be’er, but that of Avraham did as well. The complaints about water, and the advent of the Be’er came in Refidim, which Chazal tell us, was a place of a decrease in Ruchnias as well. Klal Yisroel may have been worried about their spiritual salvation as well, having come from Mitzrayim with all its Tumah. The message of “Yukach Nah Me’At Mayim” would have been very helpful at that time as well: take the first step, take just a little Mayim, and leave the rest to the Ribbono Shel Olam.
As Bnei Avraham, it is our task to continue in the ways of our forefather. We must offer Me’at Mayim to those who need it, but also continualey remind ourselves that each small step in Ruchnias pays unlimited dividends.