Parashat Vayera begins with the story of the three angels who visited Avraham and informed him that he and Sara would soon have a child, and the parasha then continues with the story of the destruction of Sedom.  The transition between these two events occurs in the following verse: “The men arose from there [Avraham’s home] and set their sights upon Sedom…” (18:16).

            Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch detects within this verse an allusion to the stark contrast between the two settings – Avraham’s home, and Sedom.  The angels left “from there,” from the hospitality, graciousness and kindness that characterized their experience in Avraham’s tent, and headed toward Sedom, which the Torah has already described as a corrupt, immoral society (13:13).  The Torah tells of the angels making their way toward the condemned city with the verb “va-yashkifu” (“they set their sights upon,” or “they looked down upon”), which Rav Hirsch interprets to mean, “they looked down to the plains of Sedom with criticizing gauging consideration.”  Their experience with Avraham contrasted so sharply with the way of life in Sedom that they looked upon the city in disgust and revulsion.  Off the background of Avraham’s selflessness and piety, Sedom’s debasement appeared especially repugnant.

            Rav Yitzchak Menachem Abrahamson of London, in his work Be’er Mayim (London, 1919), offers the precise opposite interpretation of this verse.  He, too, detects an emphasis on the contrast between Avraham and Sedom.  In his view, however, the angels specifically endeavored not to allow their experiences with Avraham to affect their perspective as they headed toward Sedom.  The Torah tells, “Va-yakumu mi-sham ha-anashim” (“The people arose from there”).  Rav Abrahamson reads this phrase to mean not only that the angels physically took leave of Avraham’s home, but also that they diverted their minds from his home, as well.  They headed toward Sedom in order to rescue Lot and his family, and also held out hope that God would reverse His decree against the rest of the population.  They wanted to help Sedom, to find its redeeming quality, to expose within the rampant corruption a ray of moral light which could perhaps rescue the city.  To this end, they “arose from there,” they diverted their minds away from Avraham.  As the angels made their way down the hills of Chevron toward the Jordan River Valley, they had to change their frame of reference.  They could not view and assess Sedom off the backdrop of Avraham’s unparalleled kindness; it would be unfair to judge Sedom according to the towering standards which they had just experienced.

            In order to judge other people favorably, if we want to find and bring out the best in others, we need to alter our frame of reference.  We cannot hold people to the strict standards to which we hold – or should hold – ourselves and those with whom we associate and identify.  Chazal famously comment that a person should always ask himself, “When will my actions reach [the level of] the actions of my patriarchs?”  But this demand should be made only of oneself, and not of others.  In dealing with other people, we should not insistently expect the standards of Avraham Avinu.  We should instead look upon them kindly, favorably and compassionately, hopeful and confident that they, and all of us, will indeed one day succeed in meeting the lofty standards set by our righteous forebears.