Pursuing chesed refers to the middah of chesed — an attitude — rather than an action

“…Avraham came to eulogize Sarah and to weep for her.” (Bereishis 23:2)

In Mishlei (21:21) it says, “One who pursues righteousness and chesed will find life, righteousness and honor.” The Midrash suggests this refers to Avraham Avinu who pursued chesed when he buried his wife.

Avraham was the epitome of chesed, but any man who lost his wife would certainly bury her. Why focus on this act to demonstrate that Avraham pursued chesed? (Rabbi Shlomo Caplan, Mishulchan Shlomo)

You gotta meet my friend Rina*. She’s an astoundingly talented person who runs performances across the globe. She works months on each of these performances, but doesn’t take a penny. Instead, the profits go to tzedakah.

I have another friend, Sara,* who cooks every day for families in need. She stands for hours in her kitchen and never gets a thank-you from any recipient, because the entire endeavor is anonymous.

Then there’s Shira,* who battles Israeli traffic several times a week to drive cancer patients to and from hospitals. I was so impressed with this initiative that I volunteered as well. I think I managed to drive someone twice. It just never worked with my schedule.

Rav Sholom Schwadron suggests that pursuing chesed refers to the middah of chesed — an attitude — rather than an action. Chesed doesn’t merely refer to the act of rendering assistance; rather it’s the passion for chesed – ahavas chesed. We see this in Avraham as well, who wanted guests although the heat suggested there were no travelers outside. He was driven by his passion for chesed, not because he saw someone in need. Even burying Sarah, something he was expected to do, was performed by Avraham with the passion for gemilus chasadim.

I’m not the chesed type. I don’t have time for hours of play rehearsals. I have a hard enough time getting dinner on the table for my own family; forget about for others. I just can’t seem to fit chesed into my lifestyle. And that makes me sad. Because there are so many people and so many needs, and somehow, I only manage my own.

The Chofetz Chaim once praised the local pharmacist for all the chesed he performed while at work.

“But I’m being paid for the work,” protested the man.

The Chofetz Chaim responded, “If you’re dispensing medications with the intention to help people, you get Olam Haba for your work.”

The message is clear. Go to work not just intending to get your paycheck, but with a focus on the chasadim you do with your job. This attitude transforms the mundane into an awesome zechus of gemilus chasadim.

If a mother focuses on the chesed that she’s doing for her family, she converts her menial tasks into a spiritual gold mine. We shouldn’t merely perform acts of chesed; we should cultivate an ahavas chesed, which ennobles our everyday deeds.

The other day I had the fun of babysitting my latest einekel while her mother had a much-deserved rest. I snuggled her close and thoroughly enjoyed the baby therapy, until… bam! The front door flew open, and Shloime made his usual charged return from school.

I saw his eyes lock with mine, saw him take in the scene of mommy snuggling with new baby, and watched jealousy take over his face. Shloime has it tough. There are always nieces and nephews interloping in his house, while he’s instructed by his older siblings to share, be careful, or just to go away. I watched Shloimie’s face, and a rush of understanding surged through me.

“We’re babysitting today, Shloime,” I said jovially. “Aren’t we lucky? We get to play with the baby the whole afternoon.”

“Her mommy doesn’t let me play with her,” he countered.

“Let’s play together,” I offered. I snuggled Shloime close, then gently laid the baby into his arms.

“See how tiny she is? Look how well you’re holding her. You’re great at this!”

Together we sang songs, played, and laughed at the comical yawns that emitted from such a tiny mouth.

“This baby loves me, right, Mommy?”

“She sure does,” I answered. “And I love you, too.”

I shouldn’t say I can’t do chesed. I look at Shloime’s face and realize how much I can do. The old cliché is true: Chesed begins at home. But done correctly, hopefully it will travel with Shloime much farther than that.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 968)