In parshas Bereishis, our history as a homicidal being has its first
expression in Kayin's (Cain) murder of his brother Hevel (Abel). According
to the Midrash (Bereishis Rabba 22:8) an argument broke out between them
that lead to a physical struggle. Hevel was the stronger of the two, and
easily overcame his brother Kayin, pinning him to the ground. Kayin pleaded
with his brother to release him from his grip; Hevel acceded. "And Kayin
stood up," from beneath Hevel, "and he killed him." The fact that Hevel was
willing to make peace, and in fact released Kayin from his grips, makes the
murderous act all the more repulsive.
Kayin realizes that he has committed a disgusting crime, and worries that
others may come to avenge the murder. He pleads with Hashem to spare him.
Hashem acquiesces to his request: "Hashem gave Kayin a sign, so that anyone
who sees him may not smite him. (4:15)" There is disagreement as to the
nature of this sign. Rashi explains that Hashem etched one of the letters
of His name into Kayin's forehead. Alternately, this refers to the innate
fear that animals have from humans, which Kayin had lost as a result of the
murder, and which Hashem now returned to him (according to this explanation
his fear was from animals and not from other humans). Others in the Midrash
(ibid 22:12) say the sign was a form of leprosy (that would keep others
away), or a horn protruding from his forehead. Rav says: He gave him a dog.
Why a dog? True, there are dogs that will do a decent job of guarding their
owners, but so would a lion, a bear, or any other type of vicious animal.
Remember, dogs weren't domesticated then.
A student of the holy Chafetz Chaim zt"l once heard him chastising himself:
"Yisroel Meir, do you not appreciate the kindness that Hashem has done with
you that he gave you the wisdom and understanding to compile an entire
sefer on the laws of lashon hara (slanderous speech)?! Aren't you thankful
that by the grace of Hashem many thousands of people have purchased the
sefer, and learn from it daily?! Don't you realize that if you don't show
appreciation for these gifts, then the lowly dog is greater than you?!"
The next morning, the student, puzzled by his rebbe's cryptic statement,
had the boldness to ask its meaning. The Chafetz Chaim explained: "The
Midrash says Hashem gave Kayin a dog. Why a dog? There is no animal on
earth quite like the dog - that shows such love, appreciation, and devotion
to its owner in exchange for little more than a few scraps and morsels that
would likely have gone in the garbage (the Chafetz Chaim lived before the
times that dog foods received more supermarket shelf- space than baby
foods). No animal is more faithful and grateful to its owner than a dog.
And no act could be more the contrary than Kayin's taking advantage of
Hevel's kindness, and using it to kill him. By giving him a dog, Hashem was
giving Kayin a constant reminder of his lack of hakaras ha-tov (recognition
of kindness). That's why I told myself that if I fail to appreciate the
gifts Hashem has given me, I'll be outdone by a dog!"
Perhaps we can add the following: Kayin at first refused to admit to the
murder, uttering the infamous, "Am I my brother's keeper?!" Linguistically,
to give thanks and to admit are identical in Hebrew (Le- hodos).
Ideologically, one who has a hard time acknowledging another's kindnesses
will likely not be able to admit having made a mistake. The Midrash says
that had Adam immediately confessed his sin (eating from the Tree of
Knowledge), he would have gained instant forgiveness. Perhaps the same can
be said of Kayin's denial. Thus, G-d gave him a dog, whose trait is
acknowledgement and gratitude, for it was for lack of this trait that Kayin
came to deny his crime.
Hakaras ha-tov is a trait that graces its possessor in his relationships
with both man and G-d. While the measly dog cowers in the presence of the
ferocious wolf, the canine has flourished astonishingly over the last
century, while the mighty wolf is in danger of extinction. A scientist once
mused: Imagine if we were able to listen in to the conversation of a
particularly introspective dog talking to his relative, the wolf.
"I get such a kick out of scaring the daylights out of man... Why, just
last week, a bunch of big rowdy guys came waltzing through my neck of the
woods. All I did was stand up and face them, and they went running as fast
as they could... "
"Good for you!" said the dog. "But I say, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
They'll come back for you - be sure - but next time they'll have guns. My
granddad did some light work for his owners way back when - you know,
helping them make sure the sheep don't get out and what not. Nowadays, all
I have to do is wag my tail and jump them when they come home, and they do
the work for me! They take me for walks, wash me, keep me warm, and even
send me to the vet once a month! You'd be surprised how far a little bit of
unconditional gratitude and devotion can take you!"
Interestingly, one is not allowed to use the proceeds of the sale of a dog
to purchase a korban (a ritual offering - see Devarim/Deuteronomy 23:19).
The simple reason is that the dog is such a lowly scoundrel that it would
be inappropriate and unbecoming that it's proceeds should be consecrated.
Perhaps, according to the Chafetz Chaim, we can homiletically explain this
halacha: A korban is an expression of gratitude to Hashem (there are other
types of korbanos as well that must be brought as a result of sin, etc.).
Since the dog symbolizes the trait of sincere gratitude and appreciation,
one who "sells the dog" - i.e. he fails to recognize and internalize this
quality - is not ready to bring a korban.
Our prayer liturgy overflows with opportunities to express gratitude to
Hashem for everything He gives us. What was it that was gave the Chafetz
Chaim such a hard time that he had to chastise himself so severely about
his "lack of appreciation to Hashem?"
Expressing gratitude over good health, wealth, beautiful experiences, etc.
is something that (hopefully) comes naturally. One needs only to ponder for
a few moments the Modim prayer, "On our lives, that are placed in Your
hands, and on our souls which are deposited with You, and on the miracles
that You perform each and every day..." and one is filled and awestruck by
our constant reliance on Hashem's graciousness.
But what about when our "humility" gets in the way of our appreciation? We
all have gifts and talents, which, if we're not completely arrogant and
self-centered, we tend to downplay. Now humility is indeed a praiseworthy
trait, but here it can lead to a lack of recognition that we have indeed
been given a gift, and we must thank Hashem for that gift as well.
Perhaps it was this that gave the Chafetz Chaim such difficulty: To thank
Hashem for allowing him to write his sefer is in some small way admitting
that it indeed had an impact on K'lal Yisrael (which it certainly did), not
something that came naturally to R' Yisroel Meir. From him we learn that
one must spend time contemplating all the gifts Hashem has given him, and
appreciate them. If not? Well just throw him to the dogs!
Have a good Shabbos.
This week's publication is sponsored by R' Yochanan Buksbaum, in memory of his father, R' Moshe
ben R' Nasan Mordechai a"h.