When to Name a Jewish Child

I dedicate this week's dvar torah to the memory of a friend, Jason Botnick, (see here), who tragically passed away this past weekend (In November 2011) after losing his battle with Leukemia. 

Parshat Vayetze

by Rabbi Avi Billet 

The Torah never addresses when a newborn is to be named; just about every Biblical figure who is introduced at birth is named right away. This would not come as much of a shock in a pre-Avraham and pre-Bris era. But the fact that Yitzchak, Yaakov, Eisav, and all of Yaakov's sons (chapters 29-30) (perhaps with the exception of Binyamin's second name in 35:18) are named the moment they are born (or so it seems) stands to leave open the idea that in Biblical times, boys were named before the bris.

In a pre-Sinai world, certainly girls were not named when the new father received an aliyah to the Torah – Dinah, for example, seems to be named at her birth.

Why do we name our children when we do: the boy at the bris, and the girl at a Torah reading? Is there significance to the public display of naming a baby?

Avram received his new name after his bris, yet Yitzchak received his name the minute he was born, if not before he was born. Yitzchak's circumstance can be taken off the table, however, because his name was given to him by God, before he was even conceived. But Yitzchak's sons and Yaakov's sons are still an argument pro pre-bris naming.

Yossele Weisberg z"l, one of the most prominent mohels in Jerusalem until his passing around 10 years ago, dedicated a chapter of his magnum opus on the laws and practices of the Bris Milah experience, "Otzar Habris," to the customs surrounding when we name both boys and girls.

He records 4 reasons for why a boy is named at his bris:

1. At the time we are involved in blessing the child (ie. we say a "mi sheberach" after the bris), it is appropriate to refer to him by name. This would imply that the bris is the latest we can name a boy.
2. Until his bris, he carries the name of an "arel" ערל (uncircumcised), which must be changed to a proper Jewish name as soon as possible after his circumcision.
3. When we give the name with the formula of "Kayem" קיים את הילד הזה לאביו ולאמו ויקרא שמו בישראל... (establish this baby to his mother and father with the following Jewish name…), we are asking for the name to carry with it "God's approval," which would surely be most forthcoming once the child is circumcised.
4. Once he is circumcised, and has arrived at his personal physical "completion" (shlemut), it is the right time for him to be given his name.

The book Matamim, which explains the reasons for many customs, includes an explanation that focuses on the verse in Bereshit 2:19 – וכל אשר יקרא לו האדם נפש חיה הוא שמו - "Whatever the man called each living thing [would] remain its name." He quotes a thought from the book Toras Emes who points out that an acronym of the first five words of this phrase are the letters of the name Eliyahu/Elijah - אליהו. The first letters of the next three words, Nun, Chet and Heh have a numerical value of 63 (50+8+5), which is the same value as the word Navi – נביא – prophet.  The last word is "Sh'mo" (it's name), Thus, when Elijah the Prophet is present, that is when "his name" [the child's, that is] is proclaimed. The only problem with this teaching is that the verse pre-dates any practice of including Elijah at the bris. As nice as it is, it can not be used in practical terms to explain why the baby is named at his bris, and not before his bris.

When it comes to naming girls, Yossele Weisberg records 6 different customs as to when it could be done: 1. the day she is born, 2. on the first Torah-reading day closest to her birth, 3. the Shabbos immediately after her birth, 4. to wait at least five days from her birth (unless her 3^rd or 4^th day is Shabbos), 5. on the 2^nd Shabbos of her life, 6. 30 days after her birth.

Rabbi Shabtai Lipschitz of Orsziwa (Galicia) wrote a book called Bris Avos, in which he explains this last custom (waiting a month) based on a known connection women have to the moon and Rosh Chodesh. Just as the moon has a monthly cycle, women have a monthly cycle. The Rosh Chodesh connection is deeper, but no one suggests she be named specifically on Rosh Chodesh.

Rabbi Lipschitz's final point is that just as the father provides the name of his son to the one who announces it at the bris, he should verbally say his daughter's name to whomever (Rabbi, gabbai, chazzan, etc) will be announcing it along with a "Mi Sheberach."

There might be room to suggest Yaakov's sons were named after they were circumcised, but in the end, it does not matter whether they were or were not. Giving a name to a child is a significant event in and of itself. So significant, in fact, that Rabbi Jacob Emden declared "it is a mitzvah to rejoice and have a celebratory meal at the time one names his newborn daughter."

It would seem, therefore, that the naming of a boy at his bris, and a girl on a Torah reading day, particularly on Shabbos, would become a matter of convenience. The significance of the naming itself is a cause for celebration – so our tacking it onto a party we're making in honor of a bris, or in honor of Shabbos (or even any Torah-reading day) makes sense from a practical point of view – have one major expense at a time we'd be celebrating anyway.

May our children grow to fulfill our dreams and wishes for them, no matter when they are named. And may we merit to help them realize their potential in the best possible way.

ps. In the event that a baby's bris is delayed for a significant period of time on account of health concerns, most authorities recommend naming the child (some say to name him even before his eighth day - when his bris might have otherwise taken place) so prayers can be offered on his behalf in the proper fashion: utilizing his Jewish name.

Beer ShEva or Beer ShAva? Symbolic or Irrelevant?

Parshat Toldot

by Rabbi Avi Billet

This may seem trivial. And to be honest, I may be completely wrong. But I can't help thinking there's something deeper behind the names Avraham and Yitzchak seem to give to the city where they each forge a treaty with Avimelekh.

Before we proceed with the evidence, we begin with a disclaimer: I am aware that there are words whose vowels change when they land on the cantillation marks of "Etnachta" and "Sof Pasuk." The change usually involves a segol (the "eh" sound) or a patach (the "ah" sound) becoming a kamatz (more like an "uh" sound). Names, such as "Yefet/Yafet" and "Peleg/Paleg" are prime examples of the former, while Canaan and Mitzrayim (Egypt) are classics in the latter category.

In Chapter 21:28-31, Avraham gave 7 sheep to Avimelekh in exchange for peace (don't we wish it were that easy today?), then he called the name of the place "Beer ShAva, because they both swore (nish'b'oo) to one another." Note, of course, that the word "Shava" has an "Etnachta" mark under it. But was the city named for the seven sheep, or for the swear? If the former, it should be Beer Sheva (7). But if it's for the swear, it should be Beer Shava (on account of the swear).

It seems the jury is out on this one. Targum Yonatan thinks the city was named for the seven sheep. The Malbim and Alshikh say it was named for the swear (Alshikh even raises this discussion!). And Radak thinks both events were included in the city's name calculation.

In Yitzchak's case, Avimelekh similarly makes an agreement with Yitzchak, which they swear to maintain (26:31). After Yitzchak sends Avimelekh and Fichol on their merry way, Yitzchak's servants inform him that they've found a well – from all indications, it is the seventh well in Yitzchak's arsenal.

They call the well "Shivah..." (26:33) Rashi claims the well is thus named because of the swear. Seforno claims the well is thus named because it is the seventh well. Chizkuni argues that the well was named for the city they were in – the one that had been named by Avraham.

The verse continues, "Therefore the name of the city is Beer Sheva until this day." (26:33) Is it named for the name of the well, or the fact that there are seven wells? Or is it named for the swear? Whether it is called Beer Sheva for the name of the well or in honor of seven wells seems to be irrelevant. The city is given a name which includes the number seven: "Beer Sheva."

Meshekh Hokhmah argues most sensibly that Avimelekh broke his treaty with Avraham when he threw Yitzchak out of Gerar. Therefore, one of the reasons posited for why Yitzchak has to name the city Beer Sheva is to follow his father's footsteps, on account of the new treaty. The difference is that Avraham never named the city Beer Sheva – only Beer Shava.

It could be that the names Avraham and Yitzchak gave to the city (or cities) were the same, and that coincidence has Avraham's city always having an Etnachta or Sof Pasuk under it when it appears in the Torah, so it appears as Beer Shava.

On the other hand, it is interesting to note that after Yitzchak names the city, the only other person in the Torah connected with Beer Shava is Yaakov – the only person in the Torah that bears two identifying names at the same time.

Is there significance to this connection?

Chizkuni in 21:31 says it wasn't called "Beer Sheva" until Yitzchak's days, while Rashbam (26:33) argues that there are two separate cities with the same name. [In the Neviim books, the phrase "From Dan to Beer Sheva/Shava," identifying the Northern and Southern borders of tribal Israel, seems to interchange Sheva and Shava freely.]

The Chizkuni's notion is very compelling in light of the comparison to the notion of Yaakov's name change. Yaakov had his name changed to Israel later in life, and yet he never lost his original identity.

Whatever Yitzchak's reason for calling the city Beer Sheva, the fact is that his experience mimicked his father's but was not exactly the same. That a city's name could be inspired by two different promises (one broken), and different variations on the number seven (a significant number in the Torah), stands to reason that the city itself will stand for different things to different people.

The subtlety might otherwise only be noticed by the postal service (though in Israel, they don't usually vowelize their words, so it's a non issue). Like Yaakov, however, two names represent a local and national identity. One was for the times and reasons our forefathers lived there, and the other is as a symbol of the eternal borders of the homeland of our people – a symbol of the everlasting connection of our people to the heartland of Israel.  

Shidduch Resumes

Parshat Chayei Sarah

by Rabbi Avi Billet

I've heard it said a number of times that were Yitzchak and Rivkah alive today, there is no way they'd get married.

One can only imagine the report Avraham, "the gadol hador," would receive from his servant, the shadchan (matchmaker), after he interviewed Rivkah for the first time. "Family: Unrepentant idolators (father tried to kill me during our meeting), incorrigible brother; Girl: Very confident, thinks for herself, knows what she wants, a little on the young side."

For Yitzchak, it might read something like this: "Family: Mother dead, Father very old. Very God-fearing. Boy: 40 years old, still lives at home (possibly lives in the Negev), not very talkative, no real-world experience except for the time his father almost offered him as a sacrifice."

Rivkah resembled the very confident women I sometimes read about, who are so intimidating in their self-awareness that they never marry. Some women like this were married before they became what they are – following the advice of my grandmother who believes people should get married younger, before they become too smart for themselves.

To be fair, I know of a few successful, professional, "frum" women who were unable to find spouses (not that they didn't try), who opted to have a child through IVF in their mid to late 30s. This decision comes about after a thought process that includes, "I am not going to give up my chance of having a baby, just because I was unable to find a husband."

I will not pass judgment on either type. All kinds of permutations play into the lives people live and the choices they make (and this applies to men too – except they don't have the opportunity to give birth).

But I think Rivkah's choice to go with Avraham's servant was a coda to a wonderful first impression she gave him. And, in a sense, the timing was perfect for her to go to marry Yitzchak, because as confident and self-aware as she was, she was young enough to recognize that marriage was something she wanted, and that the opportunity she had before her may have been a once-in-a-lifetime chance to leave her surroundings and join what would undoubtedly become a great nation. In 24:49, the servant said if she wouldn't come, he would look elsewhere.

In Rivkah's case, the situation played out poetically. Avraham's servant felt that after her father and brother said "This is from God" (24:50) it was a done deal. All he needed to do was go. And so he was a bit surprised at the hesitation on the part of her family when he begged permission to leave with Rivkah.

Her brother and mother replied, '[At least] let the girl remain with us for another year or ten [months]. Then she can go.' (24:55)

He persisted that he must be on his way.

They replied "Let's call the girl and ask her personally." They summoned Rivkah and said to her, 'Do you want to go with this man?' 'I will go,' she replied. (24:57-58)

The implications of these comments are compelling.

The Alshikh claims they only agreed to let her go because they assumed they would be rewarded handsomely. As soon as they were merely given "migdanot" (mere gifts, or fruits), they tried their delay tactics. They didn't say "You can take her." They said "She'll go" (24:51) – implying "When she's ready, but not with you." They tried to demean him by asking Rivkah "Will you go with this man" as if he's a man undeserving of respect.

The Ta"Z adds that they were asking in a pejorative manner "Do you really want to go with this guy?" to suggest a wonder over how she might even entertain the notion. Had they been asking her opinion, they would have added the words "Im lo" (or not) as if presenting both sides of the question. Her answering "I will go" implies that she was going of her own accord, even if they did not want her to go – as Rashi suggsted.

Rashbam says they tried to suggest to her to wait a while in case a different man may come along to capture her attention. Radak posits they were even trying to be on the up-and-up when they offered to ask her in front of the servant, "…Lest you think we convinced her to stay without allowing her to share her own feelings," because they thought she wouldn't go.

Rivkah proved that one's actions and feelings and personal accomplishments are more important than any question of pedigree and "yichus."

Every couple has the right to choose how they want to live their Jewish lives, and personal journeys can play as much of a role in determining what that will look like as does their upbringing. Rivkah's qualities and personality were a good counter to the more passive Yitzchak, and served her son Yaakov well for his own dealings with Eisav and Lavan.

If my grandmother is right about young people, then I am glad Rivkah met Yitzchak at the young age she did, because had she waited… who knows if Yitzchak would have been good enough for her?

Prayer's Purpose

Parshat Vayera

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The prophet Malachi presents a scenario when God-fearing people present their goodness to God, in contrast to the wicked who felt it was worthless to serve God. "At that time, the God-fearing people spoke to one another. God listened and heard, and a scroll of remembrance was written at His command concerning those who fear God and those who meditate on His Name." (Malachi 3:16)

            

Oddly enough, though the prophet records that a conversation took place, he does not record the conversation.

            

The Talmud (Brachot 6a) uses this passage as a foundation for the idea that two people who sit and share words of Torah merit to have the Divine Shechinah in their midst. The Gemara asks the question, "Why does the verse add the seemingly superfluous phrase regarding those who 'meditate on His name'? Is it not enough to speak of those who fear God?" The answer is offered by Rav Ashi who declares the teaching that "If a person thought to do a mitzvah and was prevented from doing so, he is given credit for having done the mitzvah."

In his "Darash Moshe", Rabbi Moshe Feinstein uses the background of these texts to ask why God found the need to tell Avraham about S'dom. Even if He knew Avraham would pray, He also knew that Avraham's prayer would have no effect. S'dom was doomed, and not even Avraham could save it. True, his nephew Lot could be saved in Avraham's merit, but this was apparently going to happen even without Avraham's intervention.

           

Rav Moshe answers that God wanted Avraham's prayers anyway. Avraham's prayers were powerful and needed to be brought to the earth for a purpose – a purpose and design other than to save the doomed city. In other words, Avraham thought to do a good deed, and even though it didn't work out, he received credit anyway.

            

To bring a similar example from the Talmud (Sanhedrin 44b), we are told that when Avraham prayed near the city of Ai (Bereshit 12:8), his prayers did nothing at the time, but prevented Yehoshua's army from being routed in the Battle of Ai (Yehoshua 7:5) around 465 years later.

This is one element of prayer that is beyond all of us. We simply do not know what our prayers do, what merit they serve to advocate for in our world.

When Nachshon Wachsman z"l, the Israeli soldier kidnapped and killed in 1994 (his yarzeit was this past Monday, 11/7, 10 Cheshvan), his family taught a very powerful lesson regarding prayer. "God always listens, but sometimes His answer is 'No.'" In essence, prayers are needed, but we don't always merit to see what purpose our prayers serve.

            

A few years ago, I was informed of a project taken on by a shul in New Jersey. Different members of the community wrote essays about what prayer means to them, and shared them with the membership. Though seemingly obvious, it turns out that every person brings their own personal experiences into how they view, understand, and relate to the act of "tefillah" – prayer.

            

A colleague shared one of the essays with me, in which the mother of a child-diagnosed-with-cancer had some very poignant insights. She said, "You don't know what prayer is until you find out your child will not outlive you." Most helpful, she said, was when a person who had gone through a similar trial confided in her saying, "There are times when you will be angry at God. You will not be able to pray. Don't worry. The rest of us will be praying for you."

            

These are powerful thoughts. It's not just that every individual has the ability to move mountains. It's that we are all in this together, looking out for one another, making a prayer-contribution because somewhere, somehow, it helps all of us. Perhaps in ways we could not even consider or imagine.

            

Let us make a commitment to consider that as much as the specific words we say may or may not be important, it is the fact that we prayed that is highly significant. Let us remember that not every day is the best of days – we don't always feel right, and we don't always feel it – but others are praying for us. And, of course, sometimes God's answer is "No."

            

Most of all, let us remind ourselves regularly that we're all in this together. If Avraham could pray, even though in the back of his mind he may have known that S'dom was doomed, how much moreso can we pray when we merely think things are grim and hopeless? Those we pray for are millions of times better than the people of S'dom. And we never have any right to think things are hopeless.

            

And in the event that our prayers seem to go unanswered, if we can only imagine that our prayers helped (or will help) someone, somewhere, in a way unbeknownst to us, our tefillah experiences will be exponentially more powerful and carry meaning beyond our wildest imagination!

Washing Before or After Kiddush?

After I published this to the web, I found a more elaborate (and scholarly) discussion of the topic on hirhurim.blogspot.com - similar conclusions, though the directions bringing us there are very different.


Having eaten at the homes of a number of "Yekkes" on shabbos, my wife and I have always admired the German custom to wash before the Kiddush, to allow for Kiddush to flow straight into the Hamotzi and the eating of bread. "Typical yekkes, find a way to be efficient in these meals by cutting corners." It's true. How many people finally figure out where everyone is going to sit, only to have everyone get up again to wash for the bread? A little bit of frustration is easily removed through there being only one "general seating."

I hadn't looked up the law in a while, so I opened up the Shulchan Arukh to find this [I left the notes that link to the comments I record below in bold, underlined]:

שולחן ערוך אורח חיים הלכות שבת סימן רעא

סעיף יב

(נח) אחר שקידש על כוס, נוטל ידיו ומברך ענט"י ואם נטל ידיו קודם קידוש גלי דעתיה דריפתא חביבא ליה, לא יקדש על  היין אלא על הפת.

הגה: (סא) כז וי"א דלכתחלה יש ליטול ידיו קודם הקידוש ולקדש על היין (הרא"ש ומרדכי פרק ע"פ (ורשב"א) והגה"מ פכ"ט, והטור). וכן המנהג פשוט במדינות אלו (סב) ואין לשנות רק בליל פסח, כמו שיתבאר סי' תע"ג.

The Mechaber (Rabbi Yosef Karo) writes: (58) After one has said the Kiddush over [the wine], one washes the hands and recites the blessing over the washing of the hands. If he washes his hands before the Kiddush, he is giving a clear indication that he prefers bread over wine, and he should make the Kiddush over the bread instead of over the wine
Rama: (61) 27 There are those that say that in the first place (l'khatchila) one should wash the hands before Kiddush, then make the Kiddush on the wine [presumably followed by the blessing on the bread]. And this is the obvious custom in these lands, (62) and one should not change except on the eve of Passover [at the seder, when we say the Kiddush first and wash for the matzah considerably later].

מגן אברהם סימן רעא ס"ק כז

כז וי"א דלכתחל' וכו' – דס"ל דאין הקידוש מקרי הפסק כיון דצורך סעודה היא ולכ"ע אסור למזוג הכוס בחמין כמ"ש סי' קס"ו ולמ"ד שם דאסור להפסי' אפי' לשפוך מהקנקן לכוס אסור אחר נטילה:

Magen Avraham 27 According to the Rama, the Kiddush is not considered an interruption (in one's concentration connecting the washing of hands to eating bread) because it is all part of the meal. The wine should be poured before people wash.

משנה ברורה סימן רעא ס"ק נח

(נח) אחר שקידש וכו' - ולא קודם [נח] כדי שלא יפסיק בהקידוש בין נט"י להמוציא [נט] אבל בני ביתו שאינם מקדשין בעצמן אלא יוצאין בשמיעתן מבעה"ב יוכלו ליטול ידיהם קודם:

Mishneh Brurah 58 Should wash after Kiddush – and not before [Kiddush] in order for the Kiddush not to be an interruption between the washing and the hamotzi blessing. But the members of his household, who do not recite Kiddush by themselves and fulfill their obligation through his recitation, they can wash their hands before the Kiddush.

(סא) וי"א דלכתחלה וכו' - דס"ל דאין הקידוש מקרי הפסק כיון שהוא צורך סעודה ולכך יקדש על היין וישתה הכוס ואח"כ יברך המוציא ויבצע הפת וכיון דאינו הפסק ס"ל לרמ"א דטוב לנהוג כן לכתחלה משום דכשאין לו יין ומקדש על הפת בע"כ צריך ליטול ידיו קודם הקידוש [סא] וע"כ טוב לנהוג כן תמיד באופן אחד. ולמזוג את הכוס בחמין אחר הנטילה קודם המוציא ודאי אין לעשות כן לכו"ע כיון דצריך לדקדק יפה שימזוג כדרכו שלא יחסר ושלא יותיר הוי היסח הדעת:

Mishneh Brurah 61 There are those that say that in the first place (l'khatchila) one should wash the hands before Kiddush – because in their opinion, Kiddush is not considered an "interruption" because it is part of the meal. Therefore [one will have washed, then] make Kiddush over the wine, then say the blessing on the bread, and break the bread. And since this is not considered an interruption, it is the opinion of the Rama that this a good practice l'khatchila. For when he does not have wine and he is saying Kiddush on bread, he also has to wash before saying the Kiddush. And it is therefore good to be consistent in one's practice [– ie to always wash before saying the Kiddush]. But pouring hot drinks before Hamotzi should not be done, because checking if you've done it properly and poured the right amount is definitely an interruption.

(סב) ואין לשנות - [סב] וכמה אחרונים כתבו דטפי עדיף לכתחלה לקדש על היין קודם נט"י וכדעת המחבר דבזה יוצא מדינא לכל הדעות ובכמה מקומות נהגו כדבריהם [סג] מיהו אם כבר נטל ידיו קודם קידוש בזה יש לעשות כהרמ"א דאעפ"כ יקדש על יין:

Mishneh Brurah 62 One should not change from this custom [of washing before the Kiddush] – Many Acharonim have written that it is preferred to say Kiddush on the wine before the washing of the hands, following the M'chaber's opinion, because through this one fulfills one's obligation according to all opinions. In some places they followed such an approach. However, if one washed the hands before Kiddush, one should certainly follow the Rama and make the Kiddush over wine [followed by the blessing on the bread].

Summary
Following the snippets as provided, there are 2 ways to go about having the recitation of Kiddush flow straight into Hamotzi.
1. Everyone except the person reciting Kiddush and Hamotzi washes and sits down. Then, after he says Kiddush, he quickly washes – waiting for one person is not considered a 'hefsek'/interruption.
2. Everyone washes first (including the one saying the blessings), and the Kiddush is not considered a hefsek because it is part of the meal.

I like the argument that since Kiddush over bread would also require a washing before Kiddush (in the uncommon circumstance that a person has no wine or grape juice, this is standard procedure), one ought to be consistent and always wash first.

At the same time, there is certainly much to say for the argument that "Kiddush gets its own time" and that "washing and Hamotzi get their own time." In other words, say the Kiddush, then wash – as is the practice in most homes that I have visited – followed by Hamotzi.

Can we change our minhag? Without insulting our parents? I think the answer is YES, as long as we become consistent about it.

Beating the Vultures

Parshat Lekh Lekha

The first of the two significant covenants that were forged between Avraham and God was the Brit Bein Habtarim (Covenant Between the Pieces). In exchange for a promise that he'll have children, that they'll be enslaved for 400 years, but that they'll ultimately inherit the land of Canaan, God asks of Avraham (still Avram at that time) to "Bring for Me a prime heifer, a prime goat, a prime ram, a dove and a young pigeon." (15:9)

The Torah describes what Avram did: "He brought all these for Him. He split them in half, and placed one half opposite the other. The birds, however, he did not split."

Once he set up the halved animals and the whole birds, he was faced with a real problem: "Vultures descended on the carcasses, but Avram drove them away." (15:11)

Between the vision of the stars in which this encounter began, and concluding with the trance that came upon Avram as the sun set (15:12) , it seems that the Brit Bein Habtarim was minimally a 20-hour experience.

What took so long?

Perhaps the verse describing Avram's encounter with the vultures may have taken a lot more time than its press coverage might indicate.

The rabbinic interpretation of the vultures' descent paints a metaphor of Avraham's descendants fighting against those who want to break apart our Covenant with God. But perhaps there is room to interpret the events more literally.

In an interpretation that is difficult to understand literally, the Midrash Hagadol posits that when the vultures came, Avram put the split carcasses next to each other and they returned to life to frighten away their would-be attackers. More in line with the actual wording of the verse, Radak suggests that the vultures only descended on the dead birds (complete carcasses) and not on the animals that were split in half.

Getting into the trenches with Avram, Chizkuni suggests that Avram was literally running back and forth to cover the animals with a sheet – protecting them from the hungry vultures – as he lay in wait for the divine presence to pass between the pieces so the covenant could be set in motion.

There is no question that the vultures coming down were meant to serve as symbolism to Avram for the struggles his descendants would have to go through. The Artscroll Chumash includes a summary of three approaches of what the birds represent: King David, who will be driven away by God before Messiah comes, nations trying to destroy Israel, and nations trying to prevent Israel from serving God.

But I think that the literal interpretation, for a change, perhaps, carries the most profound lesson of all.

When God gives you instructions which are easy enough to carry out, when you do your part it stands to reason that everything else will flow and fall into place. But you can't just expect everything to be perfect. If the task is to cut animals in half, vultures will want to eat the animals before the Covenant is complete.

If the task is to show our children how to daven in shul, someone will talk to you in shul, or the davening won't be conducive to the education you want to provide.

If the task is to learn Torah with our children or to set time to learn with a study partner, all kinds of obstacles and distractions will stand in the way of our doing that which we know we need to do.

If the task is to dedicate time to a worthy cause, every excuse in the world will stand in the way of allowing us to participate in the way we might like.

If the task is to bring guests into our homes, maybe the plumbing will go and the heating or air conditioning will stop working, or they'll overstay their welcome.

No matter the task, everything comes with its own challenges. The lesson we learn from our forefather is one of patience. With perseverance and with the attitude that "If I could just see myself past this obstacle everything will be OK," we can attain the goals we set for ourselves.

Avraham needed to chase away hungry birds. And it may have taken him the better part of the day to get them to give up their attempts at the dead animals. But he stuck with it, received the covenantal promise, and his children did leave, to inherit the Torah and the Land of Israel.

And we're still here today.

Was it worth the annoyance of vultures for a few hours? I am sure our forefather Avraham would respond with a resounding "Yes!"