דָּרַשׁ רַבִּי שִׂמְלַאי: תּוֹרָה תְּחִלָּתָהּ גְּמִילוּת חֲסָדִים, וְסוֹפָהּ גְּמִילוּת חֲסָדִים Rabbi Simlai expounds: The Torah begins with chesed and ends with chesed. — Sotah 14a
Maimonides School is doing something right. As I walk through the halls and talk with our students about what they’ve gained from their time at Maimonides, a common theme emerges. They talk about how they’ve learned that a true Torah lifestyle is not simply about prayer, ritual, and Torah study, but also includes caring for and doing for others.
In the gemara referenced above, Rav Simlai is teaching us that the chesed of Hakadosh Baruch Hu is a theme that runs throughout the Torah—from Bereishit, where Hashem clothes Adam and Chava, to V’Zot Habracha, where He buries Moshe Rabbeinu. Just as Hashem is the ultimate baal chesed, so too we must become baalei chesed ourselves. The Torah Temima on the verse עָזִּי וְזִמְרָת קָהּ וַיְהִי־לִי לִישׁוּעָה זֶה קֵלִי וְאַנְוֵהוּ אֱלֹקֵי אָבִי וַאֲרֹמְמֶנְהוּ (Shemot 15:2) quotes the Mekhilta that states, אבא שאול אומר, זה קלי ואנוהו, הוי דומה לו, מה הוא חנון ורחום אף אתה היה חנון ורחום, Abba Shaul says, This is my G-d and I will glorify Him: just as He is gracious and merciful, so too you should be gracious and merciful. This concept of imitatio dei, our obligation to emulate the traits of the Almighty, implores us to live lives of mercy, kindness, and giving—and to think beyond ourselves and support others in need.
Perhaps at no time do we feel the importance of this mandate more than our present moment. This coming Tuesday, our Upper School students will stand shoulder to shoulder with hundreds of thousands of Jews from across North America in Washington, D.C. to demonstrate our commitment to and care for the people and State of Israel. Over the past month, our students of all ages have written cards for Israeli soldiers, raised money for Israel through bake sales and lemonade stands, packed and shipped necessary supplies, recited Tehillim and Avinu Malkeinu, attended rallies and gatherings, tied ribbons to trees to raise awareness of the hostages kidnapped by Hamas, and so much more. And it’s vital that this show of support and love for our people continue in the coming months.
At the same time, I see a tremendous amount of chesed exhibited within our school walls—between teachers and students, as well as between the students themselves.
In this week’s parsha, Sarah Imeinu passes away and Avraham buries her, which according to Rabbeinu Yonah in his commentary on Pirkei Avot (5:3) is Avraham’s tenth and final test. What is extremely puzzling is the implication that burying Sarah even went one step beyond the Akeida! How can it be that the burial of a spouse, an act that seems so simple and obvious, contains elements of greatness that go beyond the willingness to sacrifice one’s own son? Additionally, the Torah contains so many stories of the chesed of Avraham that seem to demonstrate much stronger devotion and care for others. How can this simple act of burial hold so much weight?
Commentators explain that Avraham’s burial of Sarah is an example of a chesed that was not not focused outward, but rather landed close to home. While Avraham was well-known for giving to others outside of his immediate family, his care and concern for the burial of Sarah reflected the value he placed on also doing chesed for those closest to him. The truth is that sometimes it’s harder to be generous, kind, patient, and giving to those sitting across the kitchen table—or next to us in the classroom, or in the next cubicle at work—than it is to be magnanimous toward those further away. The Midrash explains that Avraham’s burial of Sarah was his ultimate act of chesed, since a true baal chesed strives to do chesed with those on the other side of the world—and also with parents, siblings, friends, and family. And that’s not always easy!
Rabbi Beni Krohn (’02) offers an interesting explanation of the Mishna in Pirkei Avot: אַל תָּדִין אֶת חֲבֵרְךָ עַד שֶׁתַּגִּיעַ לִמְקוֹמוֹ, Do not judge a person until you reach his place. Typically, we translate לִמְקוֹמוֹ to mean something akin to “until you’ve been in his shoes.” But Rav Beni explains that another way to read the mishna could be “Do not judge a person until you arrive לִמְקוֹמוֹ—to their HOME.” The true measure of chesed must also incorporate how we treat those close to home: Our friends, our children, and our spouses.
May we merit to follow in the footsteps of Avraham, continuing to serve as inspirational baalei chesed to our world, the Jewish people, our communities, and our families.
Shabbat shalom! | 
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