Downgrade or upgrade?

Abraham, the first Jew, is sitting outside his tent recovering from his circumcision when G-d Himself appears to him. He experiences a private, divine revelation; an extraordinary moment in history. But suddenly, Abraham notices three strangers walking nearby, and without hesitation, he turns away from his encounter with G-d to go greet them, offer them food, water, and rest.

The Talmud draws a surprising conclusion from this story: “Welcoming guests is greater than receiving the Divine Presence.” Think about that. Abraham chose to take care of travelers over continuing a direct encounter with G-d.

At first glance, this seems puzzling. Why should there be a contradiction between the two? Couldn’t Abraham continue his conversation with G-d while also welcoming his guests? Surely G-d would “join him” in that act of kindness. And besides, if anyone could multitask between heaven and earth, it was Abraham!

But here’s the deeper message: Judaism isn’t about escaping the physical world in search of spirituality. It’s about bringing holiness into the physical.

Even for Abraham, who lived in constant awareness of G-d, tending to dusty travelers was, relatively speaking, a “spiritual downgrade.” Feeding them, washing their feet, and preparing food were very down-to-earth tasks. But that’s exactly the point. Judaism doesn’t see physical acts as distractions from holiness, they are the way holiness becomes real.

We often think of spirituality as something that happens in moments of prayer or inspiration, when our hearts are full and our minds are calm. Those moments are precious, but they are not the ultimate goal. The deepest connection with G-d happens through action: when you put on tefillin, light Shabbat candles, give tzedakah, visit someone who’s ill, or invite a guest to your Shabbat table.

A mitzvah—a simple, concrete act—carries more divine power than the most elevated feeling. Because G-d doesn’t just want us to feel close to Him; He wants us to live that closeness through what we do.

That’s why Abraham’s choice matters so much. When he left a private audience with G-d to run after strangers, he showed us that true spirituality isn’t about transcending the world, it’s about transforming it.

Imagine pausing your morning Torah study or even your prayer to help your neighbor carry their groceries, or setting aside your quiet time to call someone who’s been going through a rough week. From a purely spiritual perspective, that might feel like a step down. But in truth, it’s a leap upward, because it turns your love of G-d and your faith into kindness that touches real people in the real world.

That’s the power of a mitzvah. It takes something abstract and makes it tangible. It turns divine intention into human action. It bridges the infinite and the everyday.

You don’t need to be a mystic, a rabbi, or even particularly “religious” to live this truth. Every time you do a mitzvah, even one that feels small or routine, you’re doing exactly what Abraham did: bringing G-d into your world, right here and now.

So next time you have the choice between another moment of quiet reflection or the opportunity to do something practical, choose action.

Because sometimes, the most spiritual thing you can do isn’t to close your eyes and feel inspired. It’s to open your eyes, roll up your sleeves, and make holiness happen.