Parashat Chaye Sarah

Senior Sermon, Rachel Ain

The Jewish Theological Seminary

 

Our community faced a tragic loss this week. I offer the following words, not in light of what happened, since in fact this was my sermon topic all along, but as one tool in dealing with this tragedy. I hope that these words might offer some comfort to those have experienced loss and who are in need of healing.

_____________

 

The week leading up to Thanksgiving has always been a festive time for my family in Maryland. Not only would we come together for my mom’s turkey and my uncle’s gravy, we would also celebrate my grandfather’s birthday. Papa was born on November 23rd and there were many times that his birthday fell on thanksgiving. This date is especially meaningful today because Papa would have been 90 years old tomorrow. He passed away two years ago, on the first day of sukkot, and so, my family is now approaching our second thanksgiving without him. There is no question that this thanksgiving week has changed for us. Yet, as we approach this week however, we do so not in a framework of sadness or somberness, rather we are able to recall the beauty and the joy of Papa’s life. We do not reflect on the last few weeks of his life, rather we are thankful for the almost 88 wonderful years that his presence blessed this earth. The way he sang in the car, the way he and mama danced, the way that he cared so deeply for his children and his grandchildren. So while we do not have a birthday cake at our thanksgiving dinner anymore, we have the opportunity to reflect on and live the values and the traits that he so valiantly stood for.

 

A person’s life is certainly altered when they encounter loss. Whether it is the loss of a loved one, the loss of a long time friendship, the loss of a job, the question is the same: How do we continue living, even in the face of loss. Who do we turn to? How do we grieve? Certainly, no one can truly understand what another person is feeling or how that person needs to work through their grief. There is no formula for how one works through grief, and we know that no one will every completely get over a loss, rather, we live in a new reality with that loss in our subconscious. The question is, how do we begin to respond to our own loss. And, how do we respond to others as they face loss?

 

In this morning’s Torah reading, Chaye Sarah, we see examples of how different people uniquely respond and work through the loss of a loved one.  This morning, we read that our matriarch, Sarah, passed away.

 

:vrG hHj hbJ ohbJ gcJu vb¨J ohrGgu vbJ vtn vrG hHj uhvHu

 

The Torah reading begins by recalling that her life was 127 years long and then she died. In the first verse the word, Chai, meaning life, is repeated twice. In fact, the word death is never invoked in the first verse. It is only in the second verse that we hear the word mavet, meaning death.  This is crucial to our understanding of how we can work through loss in our lives. Loss is a part of life-in fact much of our life is spent lamenting the times gone by-the important point to notice is that life is emphasized more than death. So although death is a reality, we must continue to live after loss.

 

The double usage of the word “chai” could be there to show us that her life and death affected multiple people around her. As soon as sarah dies, we read

 

I,n hbP kgn ovrct oeHu  :V,Fcku vrGk sPxk ovrct tcHu

 

Abraham came to eulogize Sarah, he wailed for her, and then got up from before her to establish a burial place for her. What was abraham doing? Why did he go through these multiple steps? How did they help him work through his grief?

First, he did something for her-he eulogized her. In mesechet sanhedrin, the gemara asks,

who is a eulogy for-is it for the living or the dead? The gemara concludes that it is in fact for the dead. By eulogizing her he was paying tribute to her life and what she stood for. Midrash Tanhuma proposes that the chapter in proverbs where we read eishet chayil, was in fact that text that Abraham used to write his eulogy for sarah. Just as an eishet chayil, a woman of valor was a beautiful woman, so too, Sarah was known as beautiful. Just as an eishet chayil rises while it is still night to give food to her household, so too Sarah was a generous and giving woman to those around her.

By writing these words for her, he was able to keep her spirit and her soul with him, even though her body had departed.

 

But he then took time for himself. He wailed. He screamed, he cried. He let go. Just like many of us cry at the moment that we hear of the loss of the loved one, Abraham broke down. His emotional reaction was a necessary for since the next thing he needed to do was find a burial plot. Abraham needed to work through his grief before he could deal with every day business dealings. Just as Abraham took time for himself, a person who loses a loved one is exempt from ritual obligations until after the burial and when the shiva period begins.

 

Abraham’s actions were both emotional and methodical. He was able to work through his grief by engaging in the details surrounding the loss.

We do not have as many details however about Isaac’s immediate reaction. What we do have, is his continued life in the face of this loss.

We are not sure how old Isaac was when his mother passed away but it does not really matter. The death of a loved one is difficult no matter at what age. What we do know is that there was a point in Isaac’s life that he was comforted in his grief.

INt hrjt ejmh ojBhu vcvthu v­tk Ik›hvTu vecr›,t jEHu INt vrG vkv«tv ejmh vtchu

 

That moment came when Isaac brought Rivka into Sarah’s tent and took her as a wife and loved her. He was then comforted after the death of his mother.

 

What was it about that moment that allowed him to find comfort? What had Isaac done in his life to work through his grief? What was it about his relationship with Rivka that created an opening for comfort?

 

The traditional commentaries offer us a variety of answers to these questions. Rabbi David Kimhi, a French commentator in the 12th century, who was also known as the Radak says that it has been three years between the death of Sarah and when Isaac brings Rivka into Sarah’s tent. This allowance of time to pass is what gave Isaac the room to work through his grief. Maybe it was during this time that Isaac realized that he could still have a relationship with his mother, just not in the same corporeal way that he had in the past.

 

Reb Nachman of Bratslov teaches

Two people who live in different places,

or even in different generations,

may still converse.

For one may raise a question and the other who is far away in time or in space

may make a comment or ask a question that answers it.

So they converse

But no one knows it except for God,

who hears and records

and brings together all the words of people,

 

Ramban, also known as Nachmanides, who lived in Spain in the 13th century adds however that it was not necessarily just time allowed Isaac to work through his grief but that he found a love for someone else that allowed him to work through his grief. He had the ability to confront what he was missing and find it in another person. At the moment that he was comforted, Isaac stepped across the threshold from the life with his mother to the life with his wife. He was not forgetting his mother. He was not getting over her death. Rather, he, with the help of and love for Rivka was moving through it. The Ramban says that it was her righteousness and her aptness that was so similar to Sarah that helped Isaac move through his grief. We learn that time and the comfort of those close to us can help us blend our two worlds-the world before loss and the world after loss.

Abraham and Isaac were two individuals who each had their own reactions and methods to help confront their loss and continue to live.

 

As we struggle with how to confront loss, and how to readjust in the face of the that loss, we have the opportunity to enter into a dialogue with not only ourselves, but with God. Humans have the ability to interact with God in a variety of ways-some times in ways where God is very much a hidden God, and sometimes, where God is extremely present in a person’s life.

 

When Papa died I had the honor of officiating at his funeral. It struck me as both ironic and amazing that at that funeral, we recited psalms and we cried out to God.

 

wv ogn hrzgc :hrzg t«ch ih½tn ohrvv›kt hbhg t¬t

 

I lift up my eyes towards the mountains-from where will my help come? My help will come from Adonai. This stuck me as very strange. Just at the moment when we were probably extremely angry at God, we were calling out to God for help. Just at the moment where we might feel like God had abandoned us, we depend on God. Why? What are we doing when we recite these words in the face of loss? We are calling out for a response. We are calling out for help. And the response will come. Just as after the death and burial of Abraham later in the chapter God blessed Isaac, so too we will receive a blessing.

 

This blessing will come in the form of a community response. This first blessing, is the blessing of being present. A story is told by a man who wrote “I was sitting, torn by grief. Someone came and talked to me of God’s dealings, of why it happened, of hope beyond the grave. He said things I knew were true. I was unmoved, except to wish he would go away. He finally did. Someone else came and sat beside me. He didn’t talk. He didn’t ask leading questions. He just sat with me for an hour or more, listened when I said something, answered briefly, prayed simply. I was moved. I was comforted. I hated to see him go.”

The second response will be in how we offer comfort. We are each created in God’s image, and so we are able to each be God’s agents in our relationship with one another. The question is asked in Mesechet Sotah

“How do we walk after the attributes of God? The gemara answers: Just As God clothes the naked, to you clothe the naked. Just as God, visited the sick, so too you also visit the sick. Just as God, comforted mourners, for it is written: And it came to pass after the death of Abraham, that God blessed Isaac his son, so do you comfort mourners.”

 

We each have the ability to offer the help that is needed by those who endure a loss. By acting as a community, we can each offer blessing. This way, we are the path through which a griever can walk through to re-emerge into their changed reality.

 

This is why in the moment after the burial the mourner walks through a path of those close to him or her and hears the words “May you find God-HaMakom-the Holy place of comfort.” It is at this moment that the mourner begins to receive the blessings from God through the mouths of the community. It is at this moment that those members of the community can offer appropriate words of comfort, so that they communicate their presence without telling the mourner how to feel.

 

Community time and community spaces are crucial for people working through their loss. Rabbi Sidney Greenberg teaches that the recitation of the mourner’s kaddish in the presence of the community and with fellow mourners renders the mourner a profound service. The burning question “why did God do this to me” loses much of its sting when other also rise to recite the Kaddish.

 

The recitation of the kaddish not only provides us with the support of our community, but it helps us transition to the next part of our life. Just as the kaddish is recited in different parts of the services to move us from one part to another- so too the mourner’s kaddish helps us transition into our new reality.

 

Jewish life is characterized by various partnerships. There is a midrash that teaches that there is a partnership between a woman, a man, and God in the creation of a child. I believe that there is also a partnership in death. This is a partnership between the individual, the community, and God. Each one has their own role when there is a loss. The individual is given their time to grieve. Some, like Abraham, will eulogize their loved one and weep for them. Some like Isaac will take the time and eventually will find comfort with others. Anne Brenner writes that indeed, mourning is a dance. It is a dance that has been choreographed over the millenia by everyone who has passed through the mourner’s path.

 

And as we know, it takes two to tango-so let us, if we are the mourner in our community, allow ourselves to slowly walk to the dance floor so we can be like Isaac, comforted, even in his mother’s tent.

 

And, if we are the community. -We must reach out to those in our community in grief. We must not tell them how to feel or when to feel, We must be there. We must be present. We must be like Rivka, a comforting person who represents not only the past but the future as well.

 

Our life has changed with loss. As Rabbi Jacob Shankman teaches, “in ever person there is a private shrine of memory and love and in that sanctuary, our loved ones abide. We sense their presence, caress their spirits, and enfold them in our hearts. They talk to us; they tell tales.

 

Take a moment and think about the person in your life to whom you have a private shrine of memory. Whose presence you can sense when you hear a certain song. When you eat a certain food. When you tell a certain story.

 

As you think about that person, think about the joy that they brought to your life and and now the joy you bring to others as you live the values that that person stood for. Think about the loved ones around you. Think about yourself, about your community. About your relationship to God. As we all confront one type of loss or another in our lives, we should each know that we will each receive the blessing that we need to continue to live our lives in the manner we love, with the people who make life worth living.

 

Shabbat shalom.