But the Rabbis of Bereshit Rabbah – that amazing collection of rabbinic interpretations of Genesis – see so much more.

First, that "butter and milk" bit. What kind of butter are we talking about here? Rabbi Ḥanina, in Bereshit Rabbah 48, gets right down to the nitty-gritty. He says the very best butter is made from the creamiest one-sixtieth part of the milk. Not bad, eh? Intermediate quality? One-fortieth. And the lowest? One-twentieth. Rabbi Yona chimes in with slightly different figures – one-hundredth for the best, one-sixtieth for the middle, and one-twentieth for the lowest. The point is, Abraham wasn't serving just any butter. He was going for quality, offering his guests the very best.

But wait a minute… where's the bread? Abraham tells Sarah to prepare three se’a of flour – that's a lot – for bread and cakes. So why doesn't the Torah mention it being served? This is where it gets interesting. One explanation, offered by Efrayim Makshaa in the name of Rabbi Meir, is that Sarah, well, she started menstruating right then and there. That would render the dough ritually impure! The Rabbis, however, offer a simpler solution: of course he served the bread! It's just so obvious it doesn't need mentioning. If he served the things that weren't mentioned earlier, all the more so would he serve the thing that was. It's the unspoken assumption of hospitality.

Now, about that phrase, "He was standing over them." It seems straightforward, but compare it to earlier in the chapter, Genesis 18:2, which says the three men "were standing over him." See the switch? Bereshit Rabbah explains that before Abraham fulfilled his obligation to his guests, they were, in a sense, "standing over him," representing his sense of duty. But after he's provided for them, he's standing over them. They are now in awe of Abraham’s actions. They're humbled by his generosity. The text even says that Mikhael and Gavriel – two of the most powerful angels! – were trembling with awe.

Rabbi Tanḥuma, quoting Rabbi Elazar and Rabbi Avun in the name of Rabbi Meir, brings in a great parable: "When you enter a city, follow its customs." It's the ancient version of "When in Rome, do as the Romans do." On High, in the heavenly realms, there's no eating or drinking. Remember when Moses went up Mount Sinai? Deuteronomy 9:9 tells us, "I remained on the mountain forty days and forty nights; bread I did not eat and water I did not drink.” But down here on earth, it's different. There's eating and drinking, so Abraham serves his guests a meal.

But here's a final twist: were they really eating? Some interpretations suggest the angels only appeared to eat, the food vanishing as they took it. It's a reminder that the divine can interact with our world in ways we don't fully understand.

So, what does it all mean? This little verse from Genesis, through the lens of Bereshit Rabbah, becomes a meditation on hospitality, generosity, and the way we interact with the divine. It's about offering the best we have, about honoring our guests, and about recognizing the moments when we might be in the presence of something truly extraordinary. Next time you're sharing a meal with someone, think about Abraham, the butter, the bread, and the awe-struck angels. You never know who you might be entertaining.