“With Your kindness You guided this people that You redeemed; You led with Your might to Your holy abode” (Shemos 15:13).
The Talmud (Kesubos 8b) cites R’ Yehuda bar Nachmani who stated: “Our brothers, grantors of loving kindness, sons of grantors of loving kindness, who embrace the covenant of Avraham Avinu.” We would think that the covenant of Avraham Avinu is bris milah, as we say, “… and has commanded us to bring him into the covenant of Avraham our forefather.” Why does the Talmud describe loving kindness as being the covenant of Avraham Avinu?
The rosh yeshiva of Torah Vodaas, HaRav Avraham Pam, zt”l, explains that Avraham Avinu has two covenants, one is a physical one and one relates to the soul. In fact, the identity of the children of Avraham Avinu is established by their mercy, their modesty, and their loving kindness, and it is their loving kindness that brought the first redemption.
The Tanna D’Bei Eliyahu (Chapter 23) writes that when the Jewish people were in Mitzrayim they all assembled and mutually agreed to do gemilas chassadim (acts of kindness) with each other, to preserve the mesorah of their forefathers, to serve only Hashem, and not to change their language.
The Chofetz Chaim asks: Why did they resolve specifically to do chesed with each other? He observes that the Jewish people made this determination when they realized the desperation of their plight with no hope of escape. In order to perform acts of kindness with each other, they would each have to overlook the deficits and defects of the other. He explains that when there is a demonstration of kindness and mercy in the lower world, it arouses compassion and kindness in the upper world, which could promote the annulment of Pharaoh’s decrees. Indeed, says the Chofetz Chaim, this served to hasten the redemption, as our sages tell us (Bava Basra 10a), “Great is charity that advances the redemption.”
The Talmud Yerushalmi (Sanhedrin 10) cites R’ Yudin bar Chanan, who says in the name of R’ Brachya: Hashem said to the Jewish nation, “My children if you see that the merits of your fathers and mothers have decreased, go do kindness, as it says (Yeshaya 54:10), “For the mountains [the merits of our fathers] may be moved and the hills [the merits of our mothers] may falter but My kindness shall not be removed from you …”
This is how the pasuk is understood. “With Your loving kindness You guided this people,” the Yalkut says this refers to the kindness that Klal Yisrael did. “You led with Your might,” refers to the Torah. We learn (Yuma 28b) that the yeshiva continued to exist in Mitzrayim during their years of exile. Although the Jewish Nation had not yet received the Torah, they learned all the mitzvos that they had as a mesorah from the Avos.
That is the understanding of the pasuk (Yirmiyahu 2:2), “I remember the loving kindness of your youth,” referring to the chesed that the Jewish people did for each other in Mitzrayim; “the love of your matrimony,” referring to the love with which they accepted the Torah; “following Me in the desert…,” when the Jewish nation followed Hashem through the trials and tribulations of the Midbar.
We regularly recite the Borei Nefashos blessing that “[Hashem] creates numerous living things with their deficiencies.” Why do we thank Hashem for creating beings with shortcomings? The reason is because (Tehillim 89:3) “the world will be built with kindness.” Hashem creates beings who are impaired or needy, so that others can help them. In this way, the creation is completed and we evoke great Heavenly mercy and blessing for our world.
There was a bachur, an orphan, who learned in the yeshiva of R’ Yechezkel Levenstein. This boy was all alone in the world, with no relatives, and the yeshiva assumed full responsibility for his wellbeing. The Mashgiach was personally involved with the bachur, as well, tending to his needs with special sensitivity and love.
One day, the bachur became ill with a high fever and had to be hospitalized. A few days later, the boy’s condition worsened, and he couldn’t lift his arms and legs. The Mashgiach immediately ran back to the yeshiva, ascended the bimah during the learning seder, and announced that all the boys should close their Gemaras to pray for the recovery of the bachur.
R’ Chatzkel explained that the boy had no one to cry for him. “We are his family,” said R’ Chatzkel, “and we are obligated to pray for him.” One of the older students came to the front of the bais medrash, and the assemblage began to recite the pesukim of Tehillim that spelled out the ill boy’s name. There were tears and loud crying, and the concern and distress of all those present was palpable.
Suddenly, in the middle of the tefillos, R’ Chatzkel was seen running out of the bais medrash. When he didn’t return, his close disciples went to look for him. They found him lying on his bed, weak and pale, and they feared for his health. R’ Chatzkel, however, refused medical help. He explained that when they had been praying, he recalled the Talmud (Brachos 12b) that teaches that one who is able to ask for mercy on behalf of his friend and does not do so is called a sinner, as we learn (Shmuel I, 12:23), “Far be it from me to sin to Hashem in ceasing to pray for you.” The Talmud continues, in the name of Rava, that if the person in need is a talmid chacham, one must make himself ill worrying about him. R’ Chatzkel had therefore put himself into bed so that he could feel the great pain and torment of this bachur.
“Now that I feel the anguish of this boy,” continued R’ Chatzkel, “I can return to the bais medrash and daven for the bachur in the right way.” With that, HaRav Levenstein rose like a lion from his bed, and returned to the bais medrash. With tears streaming down his face, R’ Chatzkel wailed and sobbed, and his tefillos rose straight to Shamayim, as the rest of the talmidim were inspired to strengthen their prayers as well.
Slowly, the bachur’s health began to improve, and after a week he was deemed out of danger. After a period of recuperation, he was finally able to return to the yeshiva, healthy and strong.
