Would You Kill Baby Hitler?
5 min read
How does a person achieve closeness with God?
Every major religion seems to agree: divine connection requires withdrawal from the world. Tibetan monks spend years in mountain caves. Christian mystics embrace austere poverty. Hindu sadhus renounce all worldly attachments.
Judaism offers a radically different approach.
When the Torah commands us to "cleave to Hashem" (Deuteronomy 13:5), what does this mystical concept of closeness (devekut) actually mean? Rashi's explanation shatters our expectations: "Cleave to His ways, perform acts of kindness: bury the dead; visit the sick; just as the Holy One, Blessed is He, did."1
Wait—that’s it? No meditation retreats? No ascetic practices? Exactly. The message rings clear: we achieve closeness to God by acting like God—by doing kindness for others.
How essential is kindness to God? The Ramchal, the greatest Kabbalist of the last 300 years, teaches that God's purpose in creating humanity was "to give good to another."2 The logic is that since God is infinite and lacks nothing, He necessarily created us for some purpose beyond fulfilling Himself. The only logical explanation: He created the universe to bestow goodness upon us.
Therefore, Creation itself represents one giant act of kindness.
The Talmud reinforces this idea beautifully: "The Torah's beginning is an act of kindness and its end is an act of kindness. Its beginning—God made garments to clothe Adam and Eve. Its end—God buried Moses."3 From Genesis to Deuteronomy, kindness defines God's essence.
So God's way is kindness, but how does our mirroring His actions draw us close to Him? Rabbi Lawrence Kelemen explains the spiritual physics: "Closeness in the material world is measured by inches. Closeness in the spiritual world is measured by similarity."
Physical proximity means nothing in the realm of spirit. A couple can share the same bed yet feel emotionally worlds apart while in a fight. Meanwhile, two veterans from different wars who just met can feel instant connection—their shared experiences of sacrifice and service create immediate spiritual closeness despite their differences in upbringing and nationality. Similarly, when we perform acts of loving-kindness, we don’t just help others—we transform ourselves. Each gesture of generosity, each moment of genuine care, shapes us in God’s image. When we bestow goodness onto others, we emulate God’s fundamental nature and thereby cleave to Him.4 Kindness becomes our vehicle for closeness.
The most powerful proof for this revolutionary approach comes from our patriarch Avraham. Three days after circumcising himself, at the peak of his pain, under the blazing Middle Eastern sun, Avraham sat at his tent entrance experiencing prophetic communion with God Himself.
Suddenly, three travelers appeared in the distance.
Avraham's response? "My Master, if I have found favor in your eyes, please do not pass from before Your servant!" Essentially: Please excuse me while I run off to serve these hungry, tired souls!
How could Avraham abandon divine revelation for hospitality?!
With the framework we've established, the answer becomes obvious. Avraham didn't leave God at all. By running to bestow goodness onto others, Avraham achieved an even greater connection to God than he ever could while staying in individual revelation.
This revolutionary path to spirituality finds expression throughout Jewish history. Rabbi Moshe Leib of Sassov, an 18th-century Hasidic master, passed among the vendors in the marketplace, checking the quality of straw. Another prominent rabbi approached him and asked, "Rebbe, what are you doing here among these mundane matters? Shouldn't we be discussing Torah together?"
Rabbi Moshe Leib replied sharply, "Leave out my 'Rebbe' and your 'Rebbe' and come with me to carry a bale of hay to a poor widow who has no hay upon which to lay her broken body."
The two holy leaders went together, hauling a bale of hay on their shoulders. Astonished bystanders stared in wonder and moved aside to make room for them to pass. As they went, Rabbi Moshe Leib remarked, "Were the Holy Temple standing today, we would be bringing sacrifices. Now we bring straw, and it is as though we have all the spiritual intentions that come with offering the afternoon sacrifice."
This week, before performing an act of kindness—whether planned or spontaneous—pause to connect with its deeper significance. Recognize that this expression of loving-kindness will literally bring you closer to your Creator. Let that awareness infuse more love and life into your action. Feel how kindness becomes the bridge between human and divine.
Shabbat Shalom!
Avraham
