Once upon a time, a fisherman was out on the lake and caught a huge fish. “This is wonderful!” he said aloud. “The Baron loves fish!” The fish thought, “Okay, there is hope for me. The Baron loves fish.”
The fisherman took the fish to the Baron’s palace, and notified the sentry that he had caught a great fish for the Baron. “Ah, such a beautiful fish! The Baron loves fish.”
Great,” thought the fish, “Confirmation.”
The fisherman presented it to the royal chef. “I will prepare this fish in the most perfect way.” The fish thought, “Indeed, I will receive special treatment! It’s my lucky day.”
Before preparing the fish, the chef and the fisherman brought it to the Baron to show off such a perfect specimen of fish, arrayed on a gorgeous silver platter. The Baron surveyed the fantastic fish, and his eyes widened. “Such a beautiful fish!” he said. “I love fish! I simply cannot wait to eat it! Go cut off its head and tail and cook it in the best way possible!”
At this point, the fish realized what was happening, and with it’s last breath shouted, “You don’t love fish! You love yourself!”
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This parable appears in many variations. But, the theme is all the same.
It’s a deep lesson about love and kindness. We often are motivated to love someone else by virtue of our own self-love.
Ever see a stranger on the corner begging for money? You are moved to help and feed him a meal. Good job!
Seems selfless, right? You never met this person and stand nothing to gain from the gift.
Chassidic philosophy teaches that even this gift may be tainted with self-love. Humans don’t only crave good food. We crave attention, feelings of self-pride, self-righteousness, and a host of other not-so-holy attitudes.
When I help a poor person, or give to a worthy cause, I invariably receive something in return. It may be a smile. It might be the relief of guilt that would envelope me otherwise. There will always be the knowledge and emotional benefit that my dollars are hard at work, making this world a better place. I can always harbor the sensation of accomplishment and can enjoy the fruits of my labor.
In fact, when that person or organization does something good, I will be a partner, enabling them to improve the world.
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This helps us understand how special the first Jew, Avraham was. In this week’s Parsha Vayeira, Avraham is stationed outside his tent looking for passersby. The text states: “Now the L-rd appeared to him in the plains of Mamre, and he was sitting at the entrance of the tent when the day was hot.”
As Rashi explains, he went out, looking for wayfarers. Despite the intense heat – and despite Avraham’s own intense pain after circumcision – Avraham ventured out in search of visitors. G-d sees this and alleviates his suffering by causing three travelers (who are actually angels) to appear.
What’s remarkable about this story is that Avraham knew that it was unbearably hot outside. No one in their right mind would be outside.
Yet, Avraham’s love for another was not stimulated by the plight that presented itself before his eyes. Nor was it motivated by the benefit that he would gain.
He simply loved to give.
Most of us operate in the opposite fashion. It’s the situation that gives rise to our desire to help.
Avraham was an iconoclast in many ways. Here too, it was the desire to do good that gave rise to the situation.
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The next time we are faced with a situation to offer love, support, and kindness – lets’ try to use the characteristics of our Patriarch Avraham.
In fact, this is why one of the highest forms of tzedakah I giving anonymously and without directly knowing the beneficiary. By giving in such a fashion, we elevate our own soul in the process.