Avraham declared that he diverted his “hand” away from everything else besides his dedication to the Almighty.  When he set out for war, he pledged that his efforts would be exclusively devoted to the lofty purpose of rescuing his kin and defeating evil, and not for any personal gain.  

            We read in Parashat Lekh-Lekha of Avraham’s successful attack on the forces of the four kings who had captured his nephew, Lot, along with the rest of the people of Sedom.  On his triumphant return from battle, the king of Sedom offered Avraham to keep all the property which had retrieved from the marauders.  Avraham replied, “I have lifted my hand to the Supreme God…that I will not take anything of yours – even a thread or shoestring…” (14:22-23).

            The phrase, “harimoti yadi” (“I have lifted my hand”) in this verse is commonly understood as a reference to an oath, Avraham’s formally swearing that he would never accept any of the property of Sedom.  Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch noted, however, that whereas “hand raising” is indeed associated with oaths, Avraham’s formulation here differs from the standard wording used in reference to swearing.  Usually, an oath is referred to with the verb n.s.a., whereas here Avraham says, “harimoti,” not “nasati.”  In light of this distinction, Rav Hirsch considers a different reading of this verse.  He observes that the term harimoti is related to the word teruma, which refers to a portion of something that is removed from the other portions and designated for a special purpose (such as a donation to a kohen).  Thus, unlike other verbs that mean “raise,” the verb le-harim has the particular connotation of setting apart.  It means not “raise,” but “separate”; it refers to “raising” not in the sense of elevation, but rather in the sense of distinction and special designation.

            Rav Hirsch thus suggests that Avraham’s comment to the king of Sedom could be understood to mean as follows:

When I went away I dedicated my hand to God, no self-interested motives directed me, but rather I withdrew my hand from all other purposes that are lower than God, and dedicated it solely to God, so that from all my victory I may take nothing for any other purpose, nothing for myself.

Avraham declared that he diverted his “hand” away from everything else besides his dedication to the Almighty.  When he set out for war, he pledged that his efforts would be exclusively devoted to the lofty purpose of rescuing his kin and defeating evil, and not for any personal gain.  Therefore, he could not allow himself to accept the wealth of Sedom which he had retrieved.

            Rav Hirsch’s insight challenges us to ask the uncomfortable question of how many of our virtuous acts are driven by sincere, altruistic motives, as opposed to less holy aspirations.  Can we honestly avow, as Avraham did, “Harimoti yadi le-Kel Elyon” – that we engage in mitzvot purely out of a desire to serve our Creator, and not to derive personal benefit?  We must learn from our patriarch to carefully examine our motives underlying even the meaningful pursuits in which we engage, to ensure that they are pure and not tainted by self-serving interests.