Dvar Torah on Parshat Chayei Sarah

This week’s parsha, Chayei Sarah – the Life of Sarah – begins with Sarah’s death and subsequent burial by her husband, Avraham, in Hevron. The parsha then follows Avraham’s attempt, as a single parent, to arrange a marriage for his son, Yitzchak. This is accomplished by sending his trusty servant, Eliezer, back to the land of Avraham’s birth, Aram Naharayim, to bring back an appropriate, non-Canaanite bride for his son and heir.

Eliezer succeeds, brings Rivkah back to Canaan, and she and Yitzchak marry. The parsha ends with Avraham remarrying, having more children (whom he sends away, with gifts, as Yitzchak is to be his heir and the bearer of his legacy), and then dying, at the age of 175. He, too, is buried in the cave in Hevron which he purchased for Sarah at the start of the parsha, by his sons, Yitzchak and Ishmael. The parsha concludes with a brief list of Ishmael’s descendants.

The parsha stands out as being extremely pedestrian and uneventful. Not once in the parsha does God speak. Although burying Sarah and finding a bride for Yitzchak are certainly important events in the lives of the patriarchs, they are extremely quotidian, in comparison with the divine commandments, journeys, wars, famines, conflicts, and epiphanies that we read about in earlier portions. Its title – the Life of Sarah - is especially apt: the events of the parsha are about everyday life.

This being the case, one might have thought that the Torah would dispatch with these stories fairly quickly - after all, the content is so mundane. In fact, the opposite is the case; the parsha is a long one, and the stories are told in some detail. This is especially true about the central section of the parsha: the story of Eliezer’s mission to Aram Naharayim. The story is, in fact, told again and again: Avraham first gives his servant detailed instructions as to what he is to do, we are then told what Eliezer thinks about his mission, the journey itself is then described in detail, and finally, after Eliezer meets Rivkah and decides, based on the kindness she shows him and his camels,  that she’s the one, he goes to ask her parents for permission for her to go and marry Yitzchak, and tells them the whole story of his journey and his meeting with Rivkah, in detail, all over again!

The Rabbis were, of course, sensitive to all this apparently unnecessary detail and repetition. In the Midrash Rabba we are told by Rabbi Acha that the parsha is teaching us that “the every-day conversations of the servants of our forefathers is more beautiful that the Torah of their descendants.” After all, the story of Eliezer, down to the fact that Rivkah’s family washed his feet for him when he entered their home, stretches out over two or three columns of the Torah, is told and repeated, whereas, for instance, the law of the ritual impurity of an unclean animal’s blood, a basic Torah law, is not even mentioned in the Torah, but rather must be inferred by the Rabbis.

Rav Acha’s point is this: the Torah has a fair amount of narrative material, along with a good deal of legal and ritual information. The fact that the narratives are often long, detailed, and perhaps, at times, even repetitious, as Eliezer’s story seems to be, while the legal material tends to be presented succinctly, often through the use of hint and implication, indicates a hierarchy. The narrative material, the everyday behavior of the heroes of the Torah, even the minor ones, such as Eliezer, Avraham’s servant, is told and retold because it is of especial interest to us, and has much to teach us about what is really important, really crucial, for our lives.

Ritual law is, of course, central to Judaism and Jewish life. It builds identity, communal solidarity, historical connection, and gives us the building blocks of a life of holiness and morality. But, before all that, before the specifics of ritual law, there is something more important, more central: life itself. The life-lessons we can learn from the stories of the patriarchs, who lived in a world where there was not yet any Torah law or ritual, only the experience of trying to live as morally and ethically as possible, in the keenly-felt presence of God, who Himself was understood to be just, kind, faithful, and loving, are, Rav Acha tells us, of paramount importance - more “beautiful” than the Torah’s legal material.

Eliezer teaches us how a follower of Avraham behaves in real life – as opposed to in the arena of ritual: with faith in God, and a firm belief that He will help him succeed in his mission. Eliezer shows us how to behave with our fellow men and women. He exhibits loyalty to Avraham, as well as fairness, honesty, and transparency to others – insisting again and again that Rivkah must agree to accompany him back to become Yitzchak’s wife, and honestly presenting his story to her and her family. His basic worldview is underscored by the stipulation he makes with himself about how the bride will be chosen: she will be someone who shows kindness and generosity to him, a stranger, by offering water to him and his camels.

The Torah drills down to this level of detail in Eliezer’s story because it wants to teach us that, while ritual law, as important as it may be, can be taught quickly, without too much attention to detail, the way we really live – how we interact with our loved ones, our neighbors, strangers, our parents and children – demands a good deal of attention. We must notice the details, the little things, when we interact with others, as they are what often make the difference between ethical and unethical, just and unjust, behavior.

What Rav Acha is telling us is this: The Torah repeats Eliezer’s rather mundane story in order to show us that, in the choice between where to put one’s emphasis - on paying strict attention to ritual detail on the one hand, or the communal, social, and personal interactions of life as we actually live it, on the other - the latter is more important, more worthy of our attention and care, than the former. Life is what the Torah, and our lives, is about, not ritual. Ritual is there to serve, enrich, and enlighten our lives, not take the place of real, honest, everyday interactions with the people around us. With all its importance and centrality to what it means to be Jewish, adherence to and concern for ritual law must never be allowed to trump the kindness, faithfulness, truthfulness, and basic decency we are taught by the repetitious story of Eliezer and his camels.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Shimon Felix