The ultimate goal of chesed, and how that turns receivers into givers

You’ve probably heard this before. In Hebrew, the word for “give,” “nasan,” is a palindrome. Which teaches us that those who give also receive.

Hm – cute, you probably think. And it is sort of true sometimes, in a metaphorical way. But you don’t really view it as a practical reality.

Except that it is. In an ideal situation, giving is receiving and receiving is giving.

What does that mean?

Last week, we illustrated that when we do chesed properly, we become like suns who light up the lives of others. This week, we’ll reveal how we can do the same simply by properly receiving a chesed.

Chazal teach (Shabbos 10b) that when one gives another a gift, he must reveal his identity to his recipient. A puzzling statement – isn’t it best to be modest about how nice and generous we are?

Modesty is important. But there’s a goal behind chesed that makes it more important for us to share our identity with those we gift. What is that goal? To connect with others. To create closeness between us and the people in our lives.

If we give a gift secretly, we cut off that opportunity to strengthen our connection with the person we’re benefiting.

We tend to think that total self-sufficiency is ideal. That the strongest, most admirable people don’t need anyone else. That needing others is a weakness.

But that’s not how Hashem created the world. The way He designed things, every human lacks something. Why? Because Hashem wanted to create opportunities for us to fill each other’s lacks. To matter to others. To connect with them.

This process takes two people to work properly. The giver initiates the connection – but it can’t be completed until the beneficiary receives the gift properly. Until he allows it to enter his heart, to touch him. Until he can access the vulnerability to admit to his neediness, and to appreciate how the giver’s gift has filled his need.

We humans aren’t very good at that. We have egos. We don’t like feeling dependent. When people give to us, we have a hard time taking it. Often, we’ll do our best to minimize what they’ve done so we don’t have to feel so obligated. Or we’ll mutter a thank you and run off, too embarrassed to meet their eyes.

When we react in these ways, how do our givers feel? Like they’ve been left hanging. Like they tried to connect, but were pushed away. When we don’t receive their gifts well, we deny them the satisfaction of seeing their efforts make a difference.

What happens when we do receive gifts well? We give back to our givers. We become suns, lighting up their lives. We give them tremendous pleasure and fulfillment. We give them self-esteem. We give them the connection they seek. Suddenly, our roles are reversed. Nasan. We’re the giver and they’re the receiver.

Which means, of course, that they also must receive well. When we offer them our thanks, and they just brush it away – “It was nothing, no problem, don’t thank me” – they block off the flow of connection once again. They deny us the opportunity to give them our gratitude.

When, however, they let our thanks in – “of course! I’m so glad it was helpful!” – they elevate us. They make us feel less like needy recipients and more like partners in the universal mission of connection Hashem assigned to all of us.

So next time you’re sick, and your spouse fills your shoes for a day or two, try to move beyond feeling bad about it. Power up your sun and receive their gift with all the warmth and appreciation you can muster. Verbalize the benefits their gift brings to your life. And relish the surge of warmth you feel as your connection strengthens.