Among the many lessons that we can learn from studying the life of Avraham Avinu, there is one detail that sometimes goes unnoticed but actually it deserves our attention. Because there’s a question that should come to mind when we learn about Avraham’s arrival in Eretz Canaan with his family: ןַﬠָנ¿כ הָˆ¿רַ‡ ו‡ֹבָיַו – They came to Eretz Canaan (Lech Lecha 12:5) the land that Hashem commanded Avraham to settle in. And what’s the first thing Avraham did? Did he buy a house? Did he buy a field? Did he settle down? No. ı∆רָ‡ָּב םָר¿בַ‡ רֹבֲﬠַיַו – Avraham began to pass through the land (ibid. 6).
Now to my mind at least, that’s a question. Avraham had plenty of money after all. He wasn’t a nobody. He could have found a place to settle; he would have been admitted into a city. The truth is the question is even bigger because even to the city of Shaleim he didn’t move. You know, in Eretz Canaan lived Avraham’s great grandfather, Malkitzedek, and he was the king of an exceptional community called Shaleim. And we know that Avraham respected Malkitzedek very much. He even recognized him as a kohen. It says ר≈ׂ ֲ̆ﬠַמ ֹלו ן∆ ̇ƒּיַו לֹּכƒמ – he gave him a tenth of all the spoils that he captured in battle (Lech Lecha 14:20). So if he looked up to Malkitzedek, if he respected him, why didn't he stop and settle there in Malkitzedek's town? He would have had a community, people.
If it was me, if I was Avraham, the possuk would have said ןַﬠָנ¿כ הָˆ¿רַ‡ ו‡ֹבָיַו - And Avraham and his family came to Cannan, ם≈לָׁ ̆ ירƒע¿ּבּבו¿ׁ ̆≈ּיַו - and they settled in the city of Shaleim. But no, it doesn’t say that. Instead הָּב¿‚∆ּנַה ַﬠֹסוָנ¿ו¿ךֹלוָה – he started going southward (ibid. 12:9), away from others. He was careful always not to live among others, not to be encumbered by too much company. He was a shepherd, a roeh tzon, and that type of job means that you’ll spend a whole lot of time by yourself.
The Extroverted Introvert
Now, don’t misunderstand; it doesn’t mean Avraham was an isolationist, a hermit. This we know that Avraham spoke to others. 'ה ם≈ׁ ̆¿ּב ‡ָר¿ ̃ƒּיַו – Wherever he went he proclaimed in the name of Hashem (ibid. 8.) Avraham was constantly talking, explaining, teaching, convincing. And he did it with finesse; he served refreshments and he was lavish. And people came just to enjoy his hospitality. And when he found righteous people who would listen to him, who sympathized with his ideals, he went out of his way to share with them his thoughts about a Borei and about the wonders of nature and about following in the ways of Hashem. And the good ones, he adopted. Avraham had baalei bris in Eretz Canaan; baalei bris means they were his covenant people. They lived nearby and they came to Avraham to study his ways. Anybody that was a good talmid, he was willing to accept.
But otherwise, he remained aloof. םָּׁ̆ƒמ ̃≈ּ̇¿עַּיַו הָרָהָה – he removed himself from the crowds and headed toward the mountain area (ibid. 8). Except for what was needed, his policy was to set up camp in the distance and stay away from the populated towns and villages.
And the question is why is that so? I think it’s an important question because if Avraham chose that way of living it’s important to understand that, after all, maaseh Avos siman labanim; we’re expected, to a certain extent, to follow his example. And therefore it’s worth investigating, at least according to our limited understanding, what Avraham intended to achieve by having as much time as possible to himself.
The Lonely Brooklynite
Now, in order to appreciate this subject let us first read the Chovos Halevavos Sha’ar Cheshbon Hanefesh, the cheshbon number seventeen.
“The seventeenth cheshbon – it means the seventeenth mode of thought that a person should acquire for himself – is how a man should meditate, what he should think about, when he has an urge to seek the company of people.”
It means when he’s by himself and feels lonesome. Let's say it's Motzei Shabbos; the family went out to visit the relatives in Boro Park and he's left all alone in the house. He looks through the window and sees cars crowded with people speeding to some destination and he imagines their good times ahead. Or maybe he's stuck in the yeshivah Motzei Shabbos. He's an out of town boy and everybody else is home with their families and he's alone in his dormitory room. Or he's just an unfortunate fellow who didn't marry and he's all by himself wherever he is. And he yearns for the company of people; and he thinks how much fun it would be to be together with people.
“At that time,” the Chovos Halevavos says, “let him consider the advantages of solitude and how good it is to be separate from people, how fortunate he is. And he should take the time to consider, in detail, the harm that comes from the company of people.” Of course he’s talking about the company of fools but the company of wise men is hard to find because the wise ones don’t make a habit of mixing – that’s why they’re wise.
The Leaky Faucet
Now the Chovos Halevavos spends time there dilating on the problems of company. First of all, he quotes the chacham in Mishlei (10:19): ‡ֹל יםƒרָב¿ּ„ בֹר¿ּב עַָּׁ̆פ לַּ„¿ח∆י – when you talk much it is impossible to avoid doing sins. Now, usually, if you’re in the company of others, you’re going to eventually speak. After all, you’re not going to sit there like a dumb mute. You’ll join in; that’s human nature.
Now once you open your mouth, it usually comes pouring out like a faucet and when people talk volubly they're going to commit sins. It's impossible to avoid it. Even when you choose your words it's not easy to avoid it but when you turn on the faucet then there's no question that עַָּׁ̆פ לַּ„¿ח∆י ‡ֹל. You can imagine the scene on your own. You sit down on a bench in the courtyard of your apartment house with somebody and a full hour elapses in conversation. And it's not quiet philosophical discussions with measured words; it's lively. It's wordy. It’s gushing forth. In that hour you can imagine how many times pesha was committed.
But of course if you don't think about that, if you never spent time on this cheshbon, so you're not aware, and you blithely and innocently continue to seek the company of others. And you continue to produce peshaim.
That’s one problem with company and that’s one of the benefits of solitude that a person should consider from time to time: the more time I spend alone, the less aveiros I’ll probably do. Of course, if you go into solitude with a radio or a telephone or some other devilish machine or even with the Sunday Times, that's not solitude. No, that’s called company, the worst kind of company, and there will be עַָּׁ̆פ לַּ„¿ח∆י ‡ֹל there too. But if you’ll be alone, actually alone, then one of the benefits to consider is that you’re saving yourself a lot of Gehenom.
The Constant Critic
And now the Chovos Halevavos continues: “Another disadvantage of being in company with other people is the fact that then you're obligated to reprove them when they do or say anything wrong. It’s a Torah obligation. The possuk (Vayikra 19:17) says ָך∆̇יƒמֲﬠ ̇∆‡ ַיחƒכֹוּ̇ ַח≈כֹהו - you have to criticize your fellow man when he does wrong. That's the halachah by the way; even in the privacy of your home; a husband, when he hears his wife speaking on the telephone lashon hara, it's his job to interfere. Or if she hears him, she has to intervene and tell him to stop.
But it’s a much bigger problem when you're in company because it’s much more constant. It means that if you hear people saying something which is assur to say, like something belittling another person, or any other sin, if you see someone doing something that’s forbidden, you must, al pi din Torah, speak up and tell that person to desist. And you understand that it’s uncomfortable – it could lead to quarrels because company means that everybody is affable and everybody is agreeable. If you're going to sit at the family melaveh malkah and you're going to criticize this one and tell the other one to stop – “don't say this,” “don't say that” – you realize you won't last long in that company.
Higher Solitude
Now, the Chovos Halevavos there, dilates at length on these two benefits of solitude – less aveiros and less of a burden on the conscience – but we won't go further in that subject right now because it’s a very big subject with many branches and sub-branches and we don't have time right now. I’m only saying it over in its general aspect because I want to get to our subject for tonight, the higher benefits of the solitude that Avraham chose. So we're going to skip some of the details in order to get down to our subject, to the higher benefits of solitude.
To appreciate the benefits of being alone doesn’t mean merely that you should be alone in order to save yourself from sin or from the burden of conscience; it means you’re alone for a much higher purpose. A person has to learn the habit of being alone with himself in order to accomplish the creation of a mind, a Torah mind filled with Torah ideals and attitudes. That’s the solitude that Avraham Avinu was seeking and that's what we have to study tonight, the solitude that allows a person to think, to think about Hashem.
Enjoy Yourself
Now, it’s easier said than done. It takes practice because most people never learned the trick of enjoying their own company. They’re unthinking people and therefore it's impossible for them to be happy unless something comes in to cause them to fill their minds with something, to fill the vacuum between their ears.
Those are the types of people who line up in front of a movie theater waiting to be admitted. They have to go someplace where there is something taking place. Their lives are so empty of achievement of thought, that they'll stand in line and pay admission to get something that's a substitute for their own thinking.
What kind of achievement is it? Ach! When they leave the movies the money remains behind and they take along with them nothing except mixed-up ideas, silly unrealistic pictures that never happened. Sometimes worse, immorality, perversion. It’s a tragedy what some people are doing today with their minds.
The Holy Lonely Mind
The greatest achievements a person can make are the achievements of the mind – that’s how a person creates his future in this world and the Next World – and it’s only possible by means of solitude. You just can’t do it successfully when you’re with others. People are talking, and doing, and so on, and it clogs up the mind. The mind becomes cluttered up with all kinds of useless thoughts.
And therefore it’s the person who learns to enjoy his own company and to live a happy and fulfilled life even without frequent contact with others, he’s the one most capable of making something from himself. And that’s the answer to our question – Avraham was a seeker of solitude because it afforded him the opportunity to think and become great thereby. All of the greatness that we know Avraham achieved for himself and his progeny, he accomplished because of his time alone, time to think about Hakadosh Baruch Hu.
