The Flowering of Sarah’s Legacy
D’var Torah on Parashat Chayei Sarah (Genesis 23:1—25:18)
By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman
Chayei Sarah—“Sarah’s Life”—is actually better translated as “Sarah’s Legacy.” This week’s Torah portion has actually very little to say about Sarah, except for a short epitaph: Sarah lived 127 years; Sarah died; Abraham mourned for her and sought a gravesite to bury Sarah.
D’var Torah on Parashat Chayei Sarah (Genesis 23:1—25:18)
By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman
Chayei Sarah—“Sarah’s Life”—is actually better translated as “Sarah’s Legacy.” This week’s Torah portion has actually very little to say about Sarah, except for a short epitaph: Sarah lived 127 years; Sarah died; Abraham mourned for her and sought a gravesite to bury Sarah.
A person lives, a person dies and is no more. In the words of Shakespeare, “The rest is silence.”
And yet, there is more.
48 years ago, Chayei Sarah was my bar mitzvah portion. I still see myself—it’s etched in my memory—as the small child that I was, standing on a step stool so that more than just the top of my head could be seen over the lectern. I chanted the entire portion, followed by the whole haftarah. No short cuts.
I came into the event resentful—resentful of the hours I had to spend learning the long readings; resentful of the seemingly mundane material they contained. I never met with the rabbi, so that even though I understood the Hebrew and the story line, I never got the import of the parasha’s message. I also intensely disliked my tutor. Added to that was the fact that I didn’t even get to write my own d’var—it was written for me.
In all fairness, there were other, much more pleasant moments to the event—it was actually the last time I saw my grandparents; they went back to Israel shortly after the bar mitzvah, and both died before I saw them again. This was a good time for the family and friends gathered for the simcha (the happy occasion).
Still, when I became a rabbi, I vowed that no child who becomes bar or bat mitzvah at Congregation B’nai Torah should feel as I did when I was thirteen—that the event was pretty much meaningless. As rabbi, I have tried my hardest to teach our students not only the stories of the portions, but also the lessons they contained. The kids who became b’nai mitzvah at CBT would be involved in the process; hopefully they would understand not only the Hebrew verses they chant, but also the role of this event in the larger picture of their own life and the life of our people.
Such is the legacy of my bar mitzvah. Not much of a story, but the long-term effect was—and continues to be—far reaching.
This week’s parasha isn’t about Sarah. Her voice, at times resentful and cynical, at times argumentative, at times authoritarian, is stilled by the time this portion begins. Beyond the first few verses, the portion is really about two business transactions: Abraham buys a piece of property as a gravesite; and he procures a wife for Isaac. Though mundane in detail, these negotiations are an accurate description of how business is still often done in the Near East.
That both Sarah and Isaac, who were, after all, the beneficiaries of these transactions, are totally absent from the discussions, is easily understood in the case of Sarah. Sarah, of course, was dead. Isaac, on the other hand, is a bit more of a mystery. Why was he absent from the negotiations for his own wife? Since the akeida—the near sacrifice that Isaac endured—Isaac had taken to wandering alone in the open fields, away from civilization. The next time we see him, it is towards the end of the portion: It is evening time and, seeing a caravan of camels in the distance, Isaac recognizes it as the one bearing his future wife, Rebecca.
Isaac is a passive player in most of the stories about his life. And this one, though Isaac is at its heart and center, is still about his parents’ legacy, not his own.
Abraham is the chief negotiator in the two business transactions. He deals directly with the Hittite landowner Ephron, from whom a burial cave is purchased for full price, with all the folk of the city as witnesses to the transfer of money and property. The negotiations for Rebecca are also directed by Abraham, though in actuality the transaction is faithfully carried out by his servant.
Abraham, whose faith in God was complete, understood that in securing the future, relying on God’s promises alone would probably not be enough. God had promised Abraham that the whole land of Canaan would one day belong to his descendants. The promise may have been enough to sustain Abraham, but well he knew that that would not be good enough for the general population. They would need documentation, and Abraham saw to it that the documentation was there—in duplicate!
So, too, in the negotiations for a wife for Isaac. God had promised Abraham that his descendants would be as numerous as the stars in the heavens. Maybe so, but when it came to character, Abraham took no chances. It would take a certain type of person to carry on the promise, to fulfill the legacy and mission that Abraham intended for his descendants. Only a person of certain characteristics would be suitable as Isaac’s wife and the second matriarch of the Hebrew people. That could not be left up to chance, or even divine intervention. Abraham’s last gift for Isaac was finding Rebecca.
So what was Sarah’s role in all this? What is her legacy? Why is the portion called Chayei Sarah?
The answer comes toward the end of the portion. Alone for all this time, Isaac wanders in the fields. Is he lost? Why is he staying away from his parents’ tents? It doesn’t take a PhD in psychology to understand why Isaac stays away from Abraham. The father figure he had relied on turned out to be not so reliable. His faith in God almost cost Isaac his life.
And Sarah? Her legacy was something Isaac could relate to: It was the fierce love she felt for Isaac, the child of her old age. God wouldn’t have stood a chance if He had demanded a similar sacrifice from Sarah! She would not have remained silent. She would have railed against the senseless decree. Sarah would have shaken her fist and said, in the name of all mothers: “Enough! No more suffering, no more killing or hurting the innocent!”
Isaac stayed away because he felt the emptiness in his heart and his life. It wasn’t only his mother’s love he missed. It was her voice; her intense protectiveness; the safety net she created for him.
Parashat Chayei Sarah ends with Isaac falling in love with Rebecca (the first time the concept enters Biblical storytelling) and bringing her home. She is going to occupy Sarah’s empty tent from now on. Sarah’s legacy takes new life and new form as a new generation starts upon its path.
Chayei Sarah: Sarah’s life and legacy are all about love and protection, but also about justice, about compassion and about the end of needless cruelty and suffering. It is a legacy that Rebecca will carry on with all her strength, heart and mind.
©2010 by Boaz D. Heilman
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