Vayeira Torah from Rabbi Moskowitz

וַיִּטַּ֥ע אֶ֖שֶׁל בִּבְאֵ֣ר שָׁ֑בַע וַיִּ֨קְרָא־שָׁ֔ם בְּשֵׁ֥ם ה’ קל עוֹלָֽם׃

[Abraham] planted an ‘eshel’ in Beer-sheba, and there he proclaimed the Name of Hashem, God of the Universe.
Genesis 21:33

According to Rabbinic tradition, Abraham was inspired to plant a tree, the eshel, because of a conversation with Shem, one of Noah’s sons. When Abraham meets Shem, he explains to Abraham that he and his family not only survived the Flood, but also merited to eventually leave the ark, because they were engaged continuously in acts of charity.

“Were there poor people on the ark?” asks a confused Abraham.

“No, but we were tending to the needs of the animals,” answered Shem.

Abraham concludes that if caring for animals was enough to merit repopulating the earth, how much more so would it be virtuous to care for people who are created in the image of the Divine. Immediately, the Midrash teaches, Abraham planted the eshel – אשל, which is understood as an acronym for “אכילה שתיה לינה – eating, drinking, and sleeping” – providing the basic needs that any mortal guest requires. Abraham is determined to build a world that won’t again be destined for destruction.

By planting the eshel, Abraham teaches us that the kindnesses of yesterday are insufficient for the asks of today. We must not only build a world from love, but we are also required to build on the love that has already been experienced. This is alluded to in the word “eshel – אשל” which is an anagram for “shoel -שאל,” meaning “ask.” Today, and everyday, we must ask what we can do to expand the tent of inclusion and equality. Now, like then, it must be an uninterrupted push to advance the cause of goodness in the world, or the hate that caused the flood initially will naturally return.

Abraham’s kindness wasn’t limited to the physical needs of humanity, as the verse concludes with him proclaiming the Name of Hashem, God of the Universe. When people saw him focusing on the wellbeing of others, God – as the benevolent Creator, became relatable to them. Through the eshel, God’s name is known and the physical become elevated to a level of spirituality.

Every chapter of Ethics of Our Ancestors opens with a teaching from the Prophet Isaiah declaring our righteousness and describing us as “a shoot of My planting, My handiwork, in which to glorify.”  We ourselves are depicted as God’s trees and God is glorified through our actions. As progress is achieved in Orthodox communities around the world, it is a holy quest to create an evolved reality where people are not forced to choose between a religious identity and an LGBTQ+ one. With these gains comes an urgency to prepare sacred space for the expansiveness of love produced from the growing number of frum queer folks and their families.

The only other verse in the Torah that begins with the word “וַיִּטַּ֥ע,” meaning to plant, is when God planted a garden in Eden. This comes to teach us that whoever invests in the commandment of inviting guests, will be worthy of inheriting the Garden of Eden.

Our relationship with God, however asymmetrical, is still reciprocal. Whatever Abraham did for his guests himself, God performed directly for Abraham’s descendants. But whatever was done through a messenger, God also performed indirectly: mida k’neged mida, measure for measure. This principle can also be understood, homiletically, as reflecting God’s midos, character traits. The more we understand God, the more we can be like God, and then the more God shares God’s self in relationship with us.

The mitzvah of welcoming the perceived other into our tent is the example the Torah uses to demonstrate Abraham’s trait of kindness. Abraham is able to better understand God by seeing different aspects of God in other people. As Abraham’s descendants, we have inherited his embodied practice to come closer to God by treating people with kindness. Just as the eshel grows, so may our capacity to love.