Vayera

Shabbat shalom!

We know that successful companies use slogans to attract us to them and to remember what they stand for. Let’s see if you can guess the company that is represented by the following slogans – there’s a big prize for the winner!

You’re in good hands (Allstate)

Like a good neighbor … (State Farm)

Nourishing Lives (General Mills)

We’ll leave the light on for you (Motel 6)

Reach out and touch someone (Cablevision)

The message from all five of these companies is intended to build a relationship with the consumer. Being taken care of, having a good neighbor, being nourished and touched, and knowing that you are welcome. It’s as if our ancestor Abraham was on the committee for creating these slogans after his encounter with the men that he saw as he sat at the entrance of his tent on that hot day.

Our parasha, Vayera, opens with Adonai appearing to Avraham. Our patriarch lifts his eyes and sees three men standing beside him. Despite the fact that he is, according to the Talmud, still recovering from his circumcision, he runs towards them and prostrates himself to the ground. Even with his discomfort, he makes eye contact, and rushes to welcome them to his home. He shows hospitality in offering water to drink, offers to bathe their feet, and invites them to recline under the nearby tree. How can these three beings resist the gracious invitation, which Avraham offers with humility?

As if this isn’t enough, Avraham hastens to his wife, Sarah, in their tent, and says, “Hasten three seah of meal and fine flour. Knead and make cakes.” And again, Avraham rushes to the cattle and chooses a tender and good calf to prepare for the visitors. Rich cream and milk are placed before the men, and a fine meal ensues.

Abraham should be the vice-president of membership in each of our synagogues. Do you remember how it felt the first time you walked through the doors of a new place, whether it was our synagogue or another institution? Were you welcomed? Were you invited to sit with someone? Were you approached after the service so that you didn’t have to stand alone during the oneg? Or did you feel isolated, invisible, and unwelcome so that you looked for the quickest and easiest way to escape at the earliest possible opportunity?

Dr. Ron Wolfson, my beloved teacher and mentor from the American Jewish University in Los Angeles, shares in his book, “The Spirituality of Welcoming,” that “When you visit a Disney theme park, before you even get on the first ride, you have the possibility of interacting with a minimum of seven employees: the parking gate person, the parking lot attendant, the tram operator who takes you to the front gate, the ticket seller, the ticket taker, the person who rents you a stroller or wheelchair, the person who guides you into line, and the person who puts you onto the ride. Each one of those interactions can be positive or negative. Their mission is clear: to make you happy. If any one of the employees is rude or unhelpful, your day is off to a bad start. So every Disney “cast member” is trained to be a greeter. They know that the front line is the bottom line.” (Spirituality of Welcoming, p. 66)

Abraham did not know anything about the strangers who appeared before him. They could have been wealthy donors and community leaders, or they could have merely been beggars off the street. He has no idea that they are angels of God sent to visit the sick and to announce to Abraham and Sarah that they will, at last, become parents.

These days, after having been part of the day-to-day operation of my synagogue, I find myself in a different relationship with the institution. I am trying to create a new relationship as “merely” a congregant rather than as a staff member. I often feel like I am on the outside looking in, with my primary experience being my attendance at services and the weekly Torah study group. I recently attended the Sisterhood’s Rosh Chodesh celebration, and was surprised how I felt embraced from the moment I walked through the door of the host’s home. I was greeted by Ann, whose house we used for the event, who gave me a hug and walked me into the kitchen where I put my contribution for the potluck. She engaged me in conversation which led to others joining in the chatter. We sat, all 20 of us, around her extended dining room table. And while there were a multiple of conversations throughout the meal, no one was excluded from a smile, a hug, a greeting, or a desire to make a comment. I glowed as I left the event, craving the coming months where I could get another dose of nourishment for my soul.

The reform siddur, “Gates of Prayer,” offers a wonderful reading. In part it reads:

Each of us enters this sanctuary with a different need.

Some hearts are full of gratitude and joy: They are overflowing with the happiness of love and the joy of life; we rejoice with them.

Some hearts ache with sorrow: Disappointments weigh heavily upon them, and they have tasted despair; May our presence and sympathy bring them comfort.

Some hearts are embittered: They have sought answers in vain; May the knowledge that we too are searching, restore their hope and give them courage to believe that not all is emptiness.

Some spirits hunger: They long for friendship; May we in our common need and striving, gain strength from one another, as we share our joys, lighten each other’s burdens and pray for the welfare of our community.

Our Torah text emphasizes the urgency of welcoming, regardless of discomfort, time of day, or circumstances. We may only get one chance to make a difference, to ourselves, to fellow human beings, and to God.

Each of us has a responsibility to feel the urgency in welcoming the stranger. The survival of our People depends on it. Be the great company that makes a difference and adopt the mottos:

You’re in good hands

Like a good neighbor

Nourishing Lives

We’ll leave the light on for you

Reach out and touch someone