אֲשֶׁ֨ר שֵׁ֤ם הָֽאַחַת֙ שִׁפְרָ֔ה וְשֵׁ֥ם הַשֵּׁנִ֖ית פּוּעָֽה

Pharaoh planned the final solution to the Jewish problem. The plan begins by recruiting collaborators. It was not easy to convince the Egyptians that they should denounce and send the Jews to labor camps (concentration), and then they should kill the Hebrew babies. After all, the Jews had been neighbors of the Egyptians for several generations. To gain the collaboration of his people, Pharaoh delivered the famous inflammatory anti-Semitic speech (see above) in which he accused the Jews of being traitors. And his plan worked.

CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE

The first phase of Pharaoh’s plan is done in secret. To prevent the demographic growth of the Jewish people, Pharaoh orders the midwives to “discreetly” kill the babies, probably by hitting their little heads on the stone on which Jewish women give birth. The main thing was to make it look like an accident. Surprisingly, the midwives decided to disobey Pharaoh! Sages have different opinions about the ethnicity of these midwives. Were they Hebrew or Egyptian? The biblical text is ambiguous. hamyaledot haibriot could be understood as “Jewish” midwives or Egyptian midwives “who assisted Jewish women in giving birth.”

Today, we will explore this second opinion, which seems to me to be the most compatible with the peshat textual narrative and represents, among others, the opinion of Rabbi Don Isaac Abarbanel ( מיתו ולדיהן, אבל היו מצריות מילדות את העבריות, ר”‘). These Egyptian midwives who refused to follow Pharaoh’s orders and let the children live are presented explicitly with their names “Shifrá” and “Puá.”

This extraordinary act of courage cannot be taken lightly.

Let’s analyze it a little more in-depth.

WHAT DID THE MIDWIVES DO?

The midwives disobeyed a direct order from the man with supreme authority in Egypt, considered “a god”, the ruler of the most powerful country in the world, at the time of Egypt’s highest peak, the beginning of the 18th dynasty. This was not an ordinary act of giving up assigned tasks; it was an act of rebellion, of civil disobedience, perhaps the first recorded in the history of humanity.

WHY DID THEY DO IT?

Why did the midwives let the Jewish children live? The Torah explains it with simple but very profound words. “vatirena hamyaledot et haEloqim,” these non-Jewish women “feared God.”

Although the topic of fear of God is very deep, I will mention three brief ideas about it.

First, in the Tora, fear of God (=Eloqim) appears many times in the context of the behavior of non-Jews. When it comes to a Jewish context, the fear of “HaShem” is usually mentioned with the Divine name in Hebrew (A-do -nay) . The fact that the midwives mentioned “God” and not “HaShem” gives more weight to the claim that these midwives were not Jewish.

Secondly, the “fear of God” prevents a person from doing something wrong, refusing to do something wrong “in the eyes of God.” To understand it better, let’s compare it with the “love of God”, which leads someone to act with generosity, dedication, and kindness. The love of God is active, and the fear of God is passive but no less important!

Third, and perhaps the most critical point, is that the fear of God is presented in opposition to the fear of man, in this case, the fear of a tyrant. Midwives embrace the fear of God and minimize the fear of Pharaoh. And in a way, they are willing to accept Pharaoh’s punishment – torture and execution – inspired by their fear of God.

WHAT PRICE DID THEY PAY FOR THEIR DISOBEDIENCE?

Pharaoh receives the complaint that they have disobeyed him and summons them to his court to demand an explanation. The midwives present their arguments and explain that Jewish women give birth naturally (חיות הנה), on their own, and when they arrive to “kill male Jewish babies by accident,” it is already too late for that not to be noticed. Although I do not remember any commentator explaining it this way, I think it is also possible that this bravery inspired Pharaoh’s daughter, who, defying her father’s will, saved a Hebrew boy from certain death. That child was Moses.

Then come the enigmatic Hebrew words vaya’as lahem batim —”he made for them houses.”

First interpretation: Pharaoh did not forgive them but sent them to prison (batim, “houses, cells”). Following this interpretation, these women paid for “houses of perpetual confinement” in jail for their brave actions to save the Hebrew children.

HOW WAS YOUR ACT OF BRAVERY REWARDED?

But there is a second possible interpretation of the Hebrew word “batim.” Memorable dynasty, nobility, and fame. Like when one says that he or she comes “from the House of David.” Always following the opinion that these midwives were not Jewish, it is possible that the token of gratitude for having saved so many lives of the people of Israel was that the Tora mentioned these women “explicitly” by their names: Shifrá and Puá.

When we pay close attention to the biblical text, peshat, we will realize that in the entire story of slavery and the birth of Moshe (first two chapters of Shemot), the Torah does NOT mention the names of any of its protagonists, not even Yochebed, Miriam or Bitia—Pharaoh’s daughter. The only exception is SHIFRA AND PUA. Thus, the act of bravery of these simple midwives was immortalized in the memory of the Jewish people, who repeat their names every time we read the Torah. It is worth mentioning – and realizing this contrast – that the Torah does not even mention Pharaoh by name, the most powerful man on earth; he ends up being an anonymous tyrant who does not deserve to be remembered and who, even Today, his identity is disputed.

YAD VASHEM: TRIBUTE WITH NAMES

The Tora pays tribute to the memory of these brave women, “mentioning their act of valor and their names.” This is the way that the Jewish people—and the State of Israel—pay tribute to the memory of the Gentiles who risked or sacrificed their lives to save Jewish lives. This biblical gratitude is repeated, for example, in the section of the YAD VASHEM Holocaust museum dedicated to “the righteous among the nations” חֲסִידֵי אֻמּוֹת הָעוֹלָם perpetuating their memory, the mention of their “yad”, actions, and his “Shem”, his name, just as the Torah did with Shifrah and Puah.

Today Israel has many – too many enemies who shamelessly celebrate the Hamas massacre, accuse Israel of defending itself and avoiding a new massacre, and practice the hypocrisy of double standards, such as the Secretary General of the United Nations and many more (yemach shemam = may their names be erased, forgotten), who will never take the side of truth, justice, and objectivity.

On the other hand, many, many non-Jews support us, silently or out loud, like the author and journalist Douglas Murray, Erin Molan, and so many others, who deserve our deepest gratitude and tribute.

When our patriarch Ya’aqob was getting ready to descend to Egypt and reunite with his son Yosef —Egypt’s second most powerful man— he feared and hesitated. HaShem then revealed Himself to Ya’aqob and said: “Do not be afraid to descend to Egypt, Ya’aqob. There I will make you a great nation”.

What was Ya’aqob afraid of?

PREVENTING THE INEVITABLE

Our last patriarch feared that his grandchildren and his great-grandchildren would assimilate into the prestigious Egyptian culture, and end up becoming “Egyptians of Semitic origin”. The assimilation of immigrants to a land that welcomes them is not only common, but normal and in a certain way, inevitable. In the United States there are grandchildren and great-grandchildren of Italian, Irish or Polish immigrants, who arrived here at the beginning of the 20th century or before!. Today, they consider themselves 100% American. They do not have, to my knowledge, any “existential” connection with the ancient European lands of their ancestors or their ancient traditions,  except perhaps in culinary matters. This was Ya’aqob’s fear. That his descendants would assimilate and become 100% Egyptians.

Ya’aqob did two things to prevent assimilation. Firstly,  according to our Sages, Ya’aqob sent Yehuda before the family arrived and entrusted him with the organization of a Hebrew school or Talmud Tora. In this way, they could continue to educate their children and theach them the values ​​of Abraham Abinu.

Second, Ya’aqob asked (demanded!) Yosef to take his body and bury it in the land of Israel. In this way, his grandchildren and great-grandchildren would always keep in mind that their place is in Israel.  In this sense, Yaaqob was the first Zionist.

YOSEF JOINS FORCES

Yosef, on the other hand, also took several measures to avoid assimilation.

First, he established his family in the land of Goshen, a separated land. And he made it clear to Pharaoh, and to his own family, that they would continue to dedicate themselves to raise cattle, a job that was taboo for Egyptians, because of their religious beliefs (they believed, like many Hindus today, that some animals embodied the spirit of gods or dead people, and need to be left alone, feed and even worshiped). In this way, Yosef wanted his family to maintain a limited social relationship with the Egyptians.  And finally, Yosef, as his father did, made his descendants swear that his body will also be taken out of Egypt to the land of Israel.

APPEARANCE, NAMES AND LANGUAGE

And then, more. Jews refused to adopt certain key elements of Egyptian society. The children and descendants of Israel kept the traditional Semitic dress, and did not adopt the Egyptian dress code. Most Jewish men would grow a beard and wear special colored tunics. The image we see above shows a Semitic family –the Egyptians were not Semites– that came from Canaan in the 19th century b.c.e. We can clearly see the beards and tunics, as opposed to the shaven (or beardless) Egyptians with white tunics or skirts.  The dress code of the descendants of Ya’aqob was different. You could tell visually who is a Jew by the way he or she is dressed.

Our Sages also explained that Jews did not change their Hebrew names for Egyptian names. Someone namd “Levi” or “Shimon” could only be a Jew. 

Finally, Jews did not change their language. This means that parents spoke Hebrew at their house, and teachers probably spoke Hebrew in the schools. And perhaps, if the mother-language was Hebrew, when they spoke Egyptian Jews had a “Hebrew accent”.

WHAT DID WE LEARN FROM YOSEF?

Regarding the origin of these three elements, my son David shared with me this chiddush (= creative interpretation). He told me that these three elements were mentioned by the Tora in the story of Yosef. When he was forced to appear in front of Pharaoh and later in front of the Egyptian society. The very first thing that Egyptians did to Yosef, when he was taking out of prison, was shaving him and dress him like an Egyptian. Then, the  Egyptians changed his Hebrew name”Yosef” for an Egyptian name, “Tsafenat Pa’aneah” (the decipherer of the occult). And finally, we also witness that Yosef embraces  the Egyptian language as his first language, since when he communicated with his brothers, before revealing his true identity, he did so through an interpreter.  I do not think it is coincidence that these same three elements –clothing, name, language– have been identified by our Sages (or perhaps by Yosef himself!) as the key elements that would lead to or accelerate the process of assimilation of a human group into its new home.

LEARNING FROM THE PAST

Summarizing and thinking about our present reality, we learn that 3500 years ago our ancestors did every possible effort to avoid assimilation by having their own Jewish education system;  maintaining a very strong connection with the land of Israel;  living in community; working in jobs that allows limited interaction with Egyptians; wearing something that indicated that they were Jewish (similar, for example, to a Kippa today); maintaining their Hebrew names and learning and speaking Hebrew: the language of Abraham, Yitshaq and Ya’aqob.

That’s the old good formula to prevent assimilation.

How is it possible that the people of Israel reproduced so greatly in Egypt within a period of just 210 years?

Let us recall that the Tora explicitly indicates just two things:

 1- The number of Jewish men who arrived to Egypt was 70.  

2- When they left Egypt, there were 600,000 men between the ages of 20 and 60 years old. Including the women, children and elderly we assume a number of approximately 3 million.

THE MORE COMPLEX RESPONSE

Rabbi Shemuel David Luzzatto (1800-1865) formulated a couple of ideas that, although not far from the peshat– that is, the literal meaning of the biblical text- are still a little bit controversial.  He says that based on one explicit verse, Jews were in Egypt not for 210 years, but for 430 years (Shemot 12:40).  He also states that when the Tora speaks of the generations that have passed since the jews arrived to Egypt (too few to cover more than 400 years) the text does not refer to “father > son” rather, “patriarch > descendants” (this article in Hebrew explains in more detail the opinion of Rabbi Luzzatto) .

THE SAGES’ RESPONSE

Rabbi Luzzatto’s position might have a textual merit, but let us first explore the feasibility of what our Sages themselves state: the amount of time that the Jews spent in Egypt was indeed 210 years (116 of which they had spent in slavery). 

Our Sages, who also inquire as to how 70 families became 600,000, explain that Jewish women would birth to up to “6 children at a time” (bekeres echad). Yet I believe that we don’t even need to resort to the case of multiple sextuples to explain the increase in numbers.

THE EFFECTS OF MARRYING YOUNG

The most essential thing to understand is that 210 years could cover up to 10 generations- when taking into account that Jews, who have always practiced premarital abstinence, generally marry young. Until today, most observant Jews marry on average by 21-24 years of age. If 70 men arrived in Israel (with their wives) and each couple had, say a total of 6 children, in 6 generations will count: 3,265,920  (70 x 6 x 6 x 6 x 6 x 6 x 6). 

We have an explicit example of a family of 6 generations in the case of Yehuda. Yehuda came down to Egypt and Nachson left Egypt, six generations later. Yehuda> Peretz> Hetsron> Ram> Aminadab> Nahshon. And Nahshon probably already had his own children when he left Egypt.  Dibre haYamim I (7:22) counts 9 generations from Efrayim, the son of Yosef, to Yehoshua bin Nun.   

RABBI ELYASHIV RESPONSE

I believe that the best way to grasp the realism of these Biblical numbers and the Rabbis’ opinions comes from the life of Rabbi Yosef Shalom Elyashiv z”l.  This prestigious contemporary rabbi was the only child born to his parents after 17 years of marriage. He was born in 1910 and died in 2012. He reached a privileged age of 102 years. 

Now, how many descendants did Rabbi Elyashiv left in this world when he passed away? 

He had 12 children. And according to Wikipedia at the time of his death he had about 1,400 descendants, over 6 generations (See here). The secret? 1. His children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren also had a significant number of children (probably an average of 8 children) and 2. They married relatively young.

In this week’s Parsha, Vayiggash, Yosef finally reveals his identity to his brothers. “I am Yosef,” he tells them. The brothers are in shock. Taken by surprise, they are unable to respond. They remain silent, scared, and perhaps consumed with guilt: 22 years ago, they sold Yosef into slavery and faked his death to their father. Now, Yosef, aware of his brothers’ remorse and in an incomparable display of nobility and altruism, comforts them and says, “It was not you who sold me to Egypt; it was God who directed me here.” Some might think that Yosef is telling his brothers a white lie so they don’t feel bad. However, Yosef’s words delve deeper than a mere diplomatic charade. Yosef, whose life was a roller coaster of unpredictable events—though with a happy ending—understood that human beings are merely pieces in a grand chess game.

Jorge Luis Borges wrote that the chess pieces believe they move at will. “They do not know that the designated hand of the player governs their destiny; they do not know that an adamantine rigor dictates their will and journey.” On the chessboard of life, the Creator is the invisible Grand Master who moves the pieces. But unlike in chess, in the game of life, we humans are conscious players and, ironically, possess free will: we’re responsible for the actions we choose. Divine intervention happens, but without undermining human choice. This dynamic between human free will and Divine intervention is among the most intricate debates in Jewish philosophy. Some rabbis regard this as what Jewish mysticism terms “ma’ase merkaba,” an experience we all share, but its true nature eludes our understanding. Sometimes, as time passes, we come to comprehend an event or its beneficial purpose. Given this perspective, one can ponder the divine reasoning behind Yosef’s relocation to Egypt, which eventually led to the arrival of his entire family, the budding “people of Israel”, in the land of the Pharaohs. It is commonly argued that God sent Yosef to Egypt to save it from famine, a sentiment Yosef himself echoes.

A sixteenth-century Italian commentator, Ribbi Obadia Seforno, offered a unique take on this. According to Seforno, the sons of Ya’aqob, ironically, were on the brink of assimilating among the Canaanites in Israel. For instance, Yehuda, the fourth brother and the leader of the siblings, took a Canaanite woman as his wife and also chose a Canaanite wife for his son. The commentator Eben Ezra noted that Isaac and Ya’aqob sought brides from the distant Syrian city of Haran, not despite, but because of its idolatry: a woman arriving from afar, without her family, might not bring a negative “religious” influence upon her new family. Rather, detached from her past, she would likely adopt the monotheistic values of Abraham, Isaac, and Ya’aqob. Had Isaac or Ya’aqob married locally like Esav, the pervasive influence of their wives’ families might have overshadowed Abraham’s teachings. Now, with Ya’aqob’s sons marrying Canaanite women, there was a risk they would deviate from Abraham’s path, putting the future of the Israelites and Abraham’s faith in jeopardy.

Seforno argued that in Egypt, away from the influence of Canaanite in-laws, the family would reinforce their ancestral values. The stark cultural differences between the Egyptians and the Semitic societies would act as a protective barrier. For instance, the Egyptians considered animals like rams sacred, and they refrained from consuming their meat. This reverence clashed with the shepherding lifestyle of Yosef’s brothers, who raised and consumed these animals. Seforno believed that these cultural and religious disparities prevented the children of Israel from mingling with the Egyptians. This is evidenced when Yosef informs Pharaoh about his family’s arrival and their profession as shepherds, requesting a distinct living area for them. In granting this, Pharaoh allowed the Israelites to live separately, preserving their unique identity.

The brothers’ decision to sell Yosef indirectly led to their move to Egypt. Seforno suggests that this series of events, albeit originating from flawed choices, eventually safeguarded the Israelites from potential assimilation in Canaan. Thus, during their formative years in Egypt, the children of Israel forged their distinct identity, separate from the Egyptians and Canaanites. The rabbis conveyed this with a phrase from the Haggadah: מלמד שהיו מצויינים שם, meaning that in Egypt, the Jews maintained their unique identity. Although responsible for selling Yosef, his brothers inadvertently ensured the survival of their lineage. Yosef’s foresight in asking for a separate dwelling further shielded them from assimilating into Egyptian culture. Ironically, it was in Egypt where Ya’aqob’s family evolved into the people of Israel. This divine plan can be traced back to God’s promise to Abraham: his descendants would venture to Egypt, endure hardships, and eventually return to Israel – a majestic chess game that spanned 400 years.

This week’s Perasha begins with the exile of Ya’aqob Abinu, our third patriarch. Ya’aqob flees the land of Israel when his brother Esav declares her intention to assassinate him. Ya’aqob then heads to Haran, a town near the Syrian border. Abraham’s relatives live there: Laban, Ya’aqob’s uncle, and his family. Ya’aqob does not arrive at Haran in a caravan of camels with guards and servants, as it happened when Eli’ezer, Abraham’s servant, visited town. Ya’aqob comes by himself with nothing in his pockets. And also, unlike Eli’ezer, Ya’aqob is not coming for a few days. Ya’aqob goes for an indefinite time (which ended up being 20 years). On the first night of his trip, when he had not yet crossed the border of Erets Israel, Ya’aqob had a dream. He dreams of a ladder resting on the ground but reaching up to the sky. And he sees angels. Angels go up to heaven and come down from heaven. And here, we are faced with a challenge that the text of the Tora presents us with. Angels are supposed to “be in heaven,” so they should descend and then ascend. Why, even in a dream, is the order reversed? Let’s look at the most famous interpretation of this point, provided by Rashi.

WHAT ARE ANGELS?
First, we must know that angels in the Tora are not like angels in other religions: winged beings with haloes on their heads. To explain what angels are, let’s remember that the Creator does not act “directly” on His world (there were only two exceptions to this rule: 1. The first act of Creation and 2. The Exodus from Egypt); God acts thru His “angels”. That is, natural forces or instances that seem “fortuitous” to us or individuals who, knowingly or not, fulfill a Divine mission. In Tehillim (104: 4) the wind, for example, is considered an angel of the Creator since HaShem used the wind to create rain and other events in Creation. The angels that visited Abraham and Lot were (or, according to other interpretations: looked like) human beings. What “the wind” and these human or human-like “angels” have in common is that they both “strictly carry out the will of God,” the mission for which they were conceived and created. In Hebrew, the word “angel” (mal-akh) actually means emissary, proxy, representative, an agent of HaShem who, unlike human beings, does not have freedom of choice (that is, “freedom to disobey”).
One more thing: angels are mentioned in the Tora in a particular context: Divine Protection. Again, “angels” are not independent beings, in Judaism, we do not worship “angels,” nor do we pray to “angels.” We speak of angels when we refer to Divine intervention through natural or human, miraculous events. And especially in the context of “protection”. In Ya’aqob’s case, the angels that he saw in his dream came to assure him that HaShem’s protection would continue even outside of Israel.

LIVING WITH LABAN
Once we understand that “angels” refers to Divine Protection, we can address the second question: Why do angels go up first and then come down in our patriarch’s dream? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Rashi says the following, based on a beautiful Midrash: what Ya’aqob contemplated in his dream was “a changing of the guard” between the angels who protect Ya’aqob in the land of Israel and the angels who will protect Ya’aqob outside the land of Israel, in Haran, the territory of Laban. But why is a changing of guard necessary? At Buckingham Palace, the change of guard is done because soldiers must rest, eat, etc. But for what reason does jab need new angles? The dangers that threaten Ya’aqob in these two places are very different. In the land of Israel, Ya’aqob was threatened with death by Esav. Now in his next destination, the land of Laban, no physical threat awaits Ya’aqob. However, Ya’aqob’s values and beliefs will be in jeopardy… Ya’aqob is going to live with an idolatrous family; he intends to marry one of Laban’s daughters and be part of that pagan family. The possibility that Ya’aqob will forget everything he learned from his father Isaac and his grandfather Abraham and ultimately transform himself into a full member of Laban’s family is very real! This new situation, assimilation, requires a new type of Divine protection, which had not been necessary until that moment. In this dream, according to our Midrash, God shows Ya’aqob that He protected him from Esav and He will continue to protect him in terms of his physical integrity. But He is also warning Ya’aqob that unknown dangers await him in his new destiny and that he, Jacob, will have to take the threat of assimilation very seriously.

ISRAEL AND THE DIASPORA
It is incredibly similar to what happens today. The dangers to which the Jews of Israel and the Jews of the diaspora are exposed to are very different. In Israel, the fundamental threat – although it is not the only one – is physical integrity: permanent wars, intifadas, suicide attacks, etc. This was also the kind of danger that haunted Jacob in the land of Israel at the hands of Esav. On the other hand, the most harmful threat facing Jews in the diaspora today is similar to the one Ya’aqob was going to face in his new destiny: assimilation to the values of Laban and to the pagan society of Haran. This is a much more subtle challenge and much more difficult to overcome, especially since it is less visible … and sometimes it happens without us noticing.
Like Ya’aqob we Jews of the diaspora must become aware of the dangers we face and must do everything possible to educate the next generation so that the Tora remains relevant to them and they see it as the most beautiful source of inspiration and the guide of their lives.

DICTIONARY:

Opportunism is the art, policy, or practice of taking advantage of opportunities or circumstances, often with little regard for principles ….

Synonym for opportunism: exploitation

KINDNESS WITH STRANGERS

This Parasha provides us with some details of the personality of Abraham Abinu. Already close to 100 years of age, what does Abraham dedicate his life to? The man who discovered God, how does he spend his precious time? Abraham, the Tora tells us this week, is sitting in his tent actively looking for people who need help. We know the story of the three “visitors” of Abraham, but perhaps we do not absorb the enormous magnitude of what Abraham does. Let me explain: Abraham lifted his eyes, and behold, he saw in front of him three men [foreigners, people totally unknown to him]; he stood up and ran toward them, bowed down to them” and invited them to his house. We know the visitors were “angels” [messengers of God, prophets, etc.] but the main point of the story is that Abraham did not see anything special in these men. He did not reach out to them because they had money, and he wanted to take advantage of them: The Tora describes them as “walkers” – a sign of poverty – and not as traveling merchants riding on donkeys or camels. Abraham saw this, but far from discouraging him, the fact that these people were (or seemed) humble was the opportunity Abraham was waiting for! Abraham lived a very comfortable life in material terms. In passing, the Tora mentions that he had a house, food, livestock, workers, property, and silver. Abraham was sitting at his tent’s door, waiting for an opportunity to help others. This behavior is entirely abnormal!

OPPORTUNISM IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION

“Opportunists see a chance to gain some advantage from a situation, often at the expense of ethics or morals. An opportunist seizes every opportunity to improve things for himself.” 

A stranger you have never seen before is the perfect potential victim of tricksters or con artists who cheat, steal, and abuse. Without fear of retaliation because strangers are defenseless. Notice that the very word “opportunism” is always used negatively. Abraham’s opportunism, however, is 180 degrees different. Abraham was purposely on the lookout for someone who needed help. Please think if you have ever met someone like Abraham Abinu! Someone is standing outside a supermarket, for example, waiting for the opportunity to selflessly help people who need assistance getting their shopping bags to their car or something like that. Are there individuals like this? Human angels, who spend time “waiting for the opportunity to help the humble and the needy” selflessly?

CHESED IN YOUR DNA …

Abraham is proactive in his kindness; he does not wait at the door of his house for someone to come and ask for his help. The visitors did not even approach Abraham’s tent. It was Abraham who literally “ran” to meet these strangers; he offered them water, food, and shade as if he had something to sell! The Tora records this particular story because, in the end, these men announced to Abraham that Sara would have a son, but we must remember that this action of Abraham was not the exception but the rule. Abraham devoted his life to this Chesed. The Sages explained that Abraham invited foreigners to his house regularly. And they added that when the guests finished eating and wanted to bless Abraham for his generosity, he would tell them, “You don’t need me to thank me, we need to thank the Creator, who has provided us with this food” (nebarekh sheakhalnu mishelo). Abraham is from a different planet.

PROOF OF JUDAISM

Our Sages say that we, the descendants of Abraham Abinu, have inherited this virtue from him. The Sages affirm that the Jews possess three hereditary characteristics transmitted by our ancestors. So strong (and meaningful) is this genetic load that a Jew who does not have these virtues may not be a Jew: the first one of these traits is Gemilut Hassadim, the inclination of Jews to assist others, to proactively and selflessly care for those in need.