More than a mitzvah, hospitality is a channel through which G-dliness is revealed, giving rise to new life—children, souls, and blessings for generations.
Hospitality is a very important commandment. At 770, there were always guests who came to be near the Rebbe—especially on holidays. Chassidim arrived from all over the world: some for two weeks, others for a month. Throughout the year there were many guests as well. In the Crown Heights neighborhood, many families merited to host dozens of people every Shabbos.
I know a family that regularly hosted fifteen to twenty guests. One Shabbos, when everyone was already seated for the Friday-night meal, there was a knock at the door. A woman stood there all worried, and explained that she was in charge of a group of girls who had arrived from France to be with the Rebbe. They were supposed to eat with another family, but when they showed up at the door, they discovered that due to a scheduling mistake, they were not expected and now had nowhere to eat.
The hostess didn’t hesitate. “Tell them to come in—we’ll be happy to host them,” she said. She sent the men to bring folding tables and chairs from the basement, asked the girls to help in the kitchen, and within minutes everything was set. The girls from France sat down joyfully, ate with smiling faces, and felt warmly welcomed. And at the end of the meal—there was still food left.
The Birth of the Baal Shem Tov
Let me share a story about the Baal Shem Tov, the founder of the Chassidic movement, and his parents, Rabbi Eliezer and Sarah. They were childless, lived in a small village, and were financially comfortable. Rabbi Eliezer used only a small portion of his income for himself and devoted the rest to hospitality; every Shabbos, twenty or thirty guests ate in their home.
One Shabbos, during the daytime meal, an unfamiliar guest suddenly appeared. It was strange—how could a Jew have arrived in such a remote place in the middle of Shabbos? (In this small shtetl, everyone observed Shabbos.) Nevertheless, Rabbi Eliezer welcomed him warmly, gave him Kiddush, and served him food. When the other guests protested, asking how he could honor someone who arrived in middle of Shabbos, Rabbi Eliezer quietly went into another room and cried. Then he wiped his tears, returned to the table, and honored the guest even more.
Rabbi Eliezer had the custom to let guests remain through Sunday, giving them some money for the road and accompanying them partway. He did the same for this guest. On the way, the guest revealed himself: “Know that I am Elijah the Prophet. Heaven sent me to test you—to see how you would receive a stranger. You have passed the test, and because of your hospitality you will merit a son.” Indeed, on the 18th of Elul, 1698, a single son was born—Yisrael, the Baal Shem Tov. The child born from a father who accepted everyone without judgement, grew to become the founder of Chassidus, teaching that every Jew is infinitely precious in the eyes of G-d.
We learn from this story that hospitality carries immense power and blessing—especially the blessing of children.
In this week’s Torah portion, Vayeira, we see this same idea. The portion opens: “G-d appeared to Abraham in the plains of Mamre, as he sat at the entrance of his tent in the heat of the day.” Rashi explains that G-d came to visit Abraham, who was recovering from his circumcision. The Torah emphasizes that Abraham was sitting “at the entrance of the tent”—not inside. Despite the blazing heat, he waited outside, looking for travelers he could invite in, feed, and refresh.
Abraham, ninety-nine years old and in pain, still longed for guests. His kindness gave him no rest. Seeing this, G-d sent him three visitors. “He looked up and saw three men standing near him.” Abraham ran toward them and pleaded, “Please, let a little water be brought; wash your feet and rest under the tree. Let me bring you some bread so you may be refreshed.”
Though he promised them only “a little water and some bread,” he actually hurried to Sarah, asking her to bake cakes, ran to the herd, and prepared a tender calf, along with butter and milk. As they ate under the tree, it was revealed that the guests were not ordinary men but angels in human form. They brought Abraham the incredible news that he and Sarah would soon have a son.
If G-d wanted to inform Abraham of this miraculous birth, He could have done so directly by propecy as He had many times before. But He chose to deliver the message through Abraham’s act of hospitality. The blessing of a child came specifically as a reward for opening his tent to guests.
The Shunammite Woman’s Son
The same theme appears in the haftarah. The prophet Elisha would occasionally pass through the city of Shunem, where lived a “great woman”—wealthy and respected, but childless. Each time Elisha passed by, she invited him to eat in her home. After a while, she told her husband, “I know that this is a holy man of G-d who regularly passes by us. Let’s build him a small upper room and furnish it with a bed, a table, a chair, and a lamp.” In today’s language; a guest room.
Elisha saw her generosity and wanted to repay her. He offered to speak to the authorities on her behalf, but she humbly replied, “I live peacefully among my own people—I need nothing.” Then Elisha’s servant Gehazi pointed out that she had no children and that her husband was old. Elisha called her and declared, “At this time next year, you will be holding a son.” She was skeptical and said, “Please, my master, man of G-d, do not deceive your servant.” But a year later, exactly as he had said, she gave birth to a son (II Kings 4).
As the Midrash Tanchuma (Ki Teitzei, section 2) teaches: “There are mitzvot whose reward is children—such as Sarah, who hosted the angels, and the Shunammite woman, who received Elisha.”
Male Children
Until now, we have spoken about childless people who merited children through hospitality. But this mitzvah carries an additional segula—a special merit for male children.
The Midrash Tanchuma (Warsaw edition, Parashat Shemot, section 16) writes:
“Two men received two righteous guests and were blessed because of them. They had no sons at first, but once the guests entered their homes, the Holy One, blessed be He, granted them sons—Laban and Jethro… Laban, it seems, had no son, and his daughter was tending his flock. But once Jacob came into his house, he was blessed with wealth and sons, as it is written, ‘I have learned by divination that the Lord has blessed me because of you.’ And Jethro—‘the priest of Midian had seven daughters’… but once Moses entered his house, he was blessed and had sons, as it is written, ‘The sons of the Kenite, the father-in-law of Moses.’”
At the beginning of Parashat Vayetze, Jacob leaves his parents’ home for Charan. Rebekah says to him, “Your brother Esau is consoling himself by planning to kill you… so arise, flee to my brother Laban in Charan.” When Jacob arrives there, he asks the shepherds, “Do you know Laban the son of Nahor?” They reply, “We know him—and here comes Rachel, his daughter, with the sheep.” Jacob meets Rachel, who is tending her father’s flock. Then Jacob rolls the stone from the mouth of the well and waters Laban’s flock.
Why is Laban’s daughter the one shepherding? Rashi explains on the verse, “I have learned that the Lord has blessed me because of you”:
“When you came here, I had no sons, as it says, ‘And here comes Rachel, his daughter, with the sheep’—is it possible that he had sons and yet sent his daughter to tend the flock? But now he has sons, as it says, ‘He heard the words of Laban’s sons.’” (Vayetze 30:27)
It follows that when Jacob first came to Laban’s house, Laban had no sons—hence Rachel was tending the sheep. But after Laban fulfilled the mitzvah of hospitality by welcoming Jacob into his home, feeding and providing him shelter, he was blessed with sons.
A similar story appears in Parashat Shemot. After Moses kills the Egyptian, he flees to Midian. “The priest of Midian had seven daughters.” The daughters came to draw water, but the shepherds drove them away. Moses arose to help them, drove off the shepherds, and watered their flock. When the daughters returned home and told their father, he said, “And where is he? Why did you leave the man? Call him, that he may eat bread.” Moses stayed with him and married his daughter Tzipporah.
At first, Jethro had only daughters—“The priest of Midian had seven daughters.” But later we find, “The sons of the Kenite, Moses’ father-in-law” (Judges 1:16), and “From the sons of Hobab, the father-in-law of Moses” (Judges 4:11). From this we see that, through the merit of the hospitality he showed Moses, Jethro was blessed with sons.
From all these examples—Abraham and Sarah, the Shunammite woman, Laban, and Jethro—we learn that the mitzvah of hospitality holds extraordinary power.
As the Rebbe writes in a letter:
“Regarding the blessing of a male child, I heard from my father-in-law, the Rebbe, that he received from his ancestors the story expressed in the spirit of the verse: ‘With what shall a young man merit a son? Through the mitzvah of hospitality.’” (Igrot Kodesh, vol. 19, p. 333)
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