Chayei Sarah: more specifically, After chayei Sarah...

Due to a little fight with a head cold, this post was unable to be constructed. But do not fret, this past week's drash is up and running for all to see:

This past week's parsha has the uplifting name of

chayei Sarah, the life of Sarah. Yet Sarah has already died in the first verse, which reads "and the life of Sarah was one hundred and seven and twenty years; that was the life of Sarah." The rest of that chapter focuses on Abraham purchasing a burial site for his wife (he is adamant that purchasing the site, rather than being gifted it, is of extreme importance), which is what we now know of as the cave of machpella located in modern day Hebron.

The next chapter is our introduction to Isaac as a grown man, but oddly enough, we really see the process of Abraham's servant acquiring for him a wife, rather than him living his life (interesting that many of the men we meet in the bible we see as children and then again as grown men. We don't often witness the more boisterous years of life)(Another thought to consider is that in 24:15, we know that the girl drawing water at the well is Rebecca, but when she introduces herself, she only says who her father is. In fact, she never says her name at all, it is simply known!). And the last chapter is of Isaac and Ishmael burying their father after some 300 years alive, also at the cave of Machpella (interesting that Ishmael is included in this very personal experience, but rarely mentioned after this. Also, we get a lineage of Ishmael's following the account of the burial, but nothing of Isaac-perhaps because we are shown this life in the coming parshiot.).

One striking aspect of this parsha is Sarah's constant presence. Abraham needs to find the right place to bury his wife. He must find a wife for his son, per Sarah's request. Isaac is out in the field meditating, as we read in Gen 24:63 ויצא יצחק לשוח בשדה, and Isaac went out to commune or muse pensively, in the field. One interpretation is that Isaac is so grieved by his mother's death that he cannot be calmed. Rather, he is at his wits end. Therefore, it makes sense when Rebecca, or רבקה (Rivka) as she's known in Hebrew, is taken by Isaac, he is consoled.

However, as translations from Hebrew chose words without necessarily demonstrating the prescribed meaning, we must look to the Hebrew for certain understanding. In Genesis 24:67, וינחם יצחק אחרי אמו. This phrase can have a few interpretations. One is that Isaac was consoled after his mother (I.e. this is the first time he is finding peace of mind after his mother's passing). Another meaning of the word ינחם is to be sorry or to repent. What Isaac has to repent for, I am not sure. However, this brings an interesting meaning to the verse.

When we understand that the words for comfort and compassion, as well as repentance come from the same place, a new meaning is given to the verse, and to the way I look at both passion and love. Sometimes, we go into relationships heart first, looking for healing from deep pain, looking for the comfort a significant other can offer. Sometimes, we are seeking repentance from a past wrong. Either way, the root נ.ח.ם fits the meaning of our actions. Although unsure whether Isaac needed to seek repentance, the reader can be certain that he needed consolation, comfort and compassion. All of which he seems to find in Rebecca's arms. But, maybe he also needed to repent for something not so easily seen in our biblical narrative. Often times, the same arms that offer consolation chide in reprimand. There is a possibility that Isaac did wrong his mother Sarah and must repent before he can move forward with his new wife.

Our lives, quite simply, may follow the trajectory of Isaac. We may very well find solace in our loved ones after grief strikes the heart. We may find that we must repent our poor choices, without ever having demonstrated them to our lover. Rather, our past baggage is still with us, and we must slowly drop it on the side of the road of life as we move forward. Which ever direction our love takes us, whether, towards repentance, comfort, or a combination of the two, may we all find נחום, nachum in our lives.

A stranger in a strange land

What makes people keep fighting, when it seems they will never succeed, that no one will ever listen? They constantly figure out ways to keep going, to move forward and discover a solution to whatever problem they face. They preserver and will not give up.

Genocide. FGM. Cold blood murder. Famine. Starvation. These horrors are more common than we realize, yet we live in our ivory towers, watching them and saying poo poo poo or 'thank God that isn't me.' We often don't ask the questions of who these people are and what they do. How they live or what their past entails. Not a second thought is 'wasted' on these indigents.

What would happen if we opened our eyes. If we looked into the eyes of these individuals and asked them about themselves. Even more importantly, what would happen if we show them some humanity and welcome them with a smile. Truthfully, not much. It doesn't hurt us to step outside the high walls of our seemingly glamorous life and demonstrate our humanity.

Imagine stepping off the bus in the central bus station in Tel Aviv, no money in your pockets and no clue how to escape the convoluted hallways of this cavernous building. You finally walk out a side door, breathing the stagnant air, thinking it is the best scent you have ever had the privilege to experience. You overhear a snippet of your own language and inquire as to where you should go. A gentle voice encourages you to cross the street and venture into Levinsky park. There, the hunger that ravages your stomach is finally satiated with food from generous Tel Avivians who cared enough to bring food for all refugees showing up to the park each night. Next, came the daunting task of figuring out where you would sleep the night. The park seems as good an idea as ever.

Your friend from the previous day shows up in the morning and offers you a hand and some helpful directions. Having passed multiple stays in prison, you aren't keen on trusting government, but you know you have no choice. Hopefully these ones won't beat you or hang you from the ceiling.

Instead, you leave the government building with a visa in hand and a chance for a future.

This is the story of one man, Mutasim Sumali, who escaped the genocide in Darfur, alone. He traveled from Sudan to Egypt and from there, eventually decided to come to Israel. Only when he realized that Libya, Jordan, and Saudi Arabia were not viable options. Now, he lives in Israel with a geology degree and hasn't seen his parents in ten years. Yet he could not work in anything higher than construction or other hard physical labor. And he did not give up hope.

Imagine. Someone appears to you and tells you to leave your home, your village, all that you know and go go a foreign land. Although Abraham was not a refugee, he did leave his known community and go to a land he was promised by God. He had no idea what lay in store for him, simply that he had to listen. He was alone and scared, unsure of the way, with only his tepid belief in God to keep him going. This first Jew was told that his descendants would indeed be strangers in this strange land (Gen 15:13). The possibility of being welcomed was narrow and their rights were omitted. Much like those of these strangers coming and claiming refugee status.

Abraham also has to bear a famine and disguises his wife as his sister to avoid her being taken by the pharoh in jealousy. But Abraham had a favorable outcome in the end. He ended up in Caanan, with his wife and their lot. He trusted in God and his a trust was proven well-placed. The refugees who come almost daily to Israel and are kept in prison, ten people per room suitable for two, they also place their trust in God. Yet they are constantly let down and betrayed.

We know what it is like to be a stranger in a strange land. We know what it is like to be castigated and denigrated simply for ones identity and background. Therefore, we have a moral obligation, on this Shabbat Lech-Lecha, to reach out to our brother and give them a leg up. We can offer them assistance, work, food, concern. We can work in conjunction with them. Mutasim eventually found a job as the director of the African refugee development center. He works hard everyday to aide his fellow countrymen in finding work and safety in this country. As one of the few with a high school education, not to mention his bachelors degree, Mutasim is lucky and has decided to work to support his fellow country men not through physical means, but legal ones. We can offer monetary assistance as well as our time (if we are in Israel), and give them our support. We know what it is like to wander. We cannot let these people wander, lost and alone, in our land. Otherwise, why would we deserve the land at all?

Seven or two: the ark of Noah

I'm back...this time for another year in Israel, but to teach instead of learn. But in order to continue learning, I am hoping to write a weekly Torah portion blog, with little interesting life bits mixed in. We'll see how it goes!

The number two is important in Judaism. It's the number of people you need to make a couple and פרו ובו, it's the number of people God created, it's the number of candles we light on Shabbat. The number seven is also important. It's the number of days in our week, the number of days it took God to create the world (although technically the seventh day wasn't exactly a day of creation, and it's the number of branches on a menorah.

So, there's nothing to say that one of these numbers is more important than the other. So, why not include both of them in this weeks Torah portion, פרשת נח (parshat Noah, Genesis 6:9-11:32). There are basically two accountings of what Noah is commanded by God to gather into his תבעה, his ark and the numbers in which he is supposed to gather them. Looking at the numbers seems rather frivolous, but it's an interesting thought, when do we take with us when leave the world for forty years? Do we simply need a pair of each thing to ensure its survival (oddly enough, we don't exactly hear about the progeny of these single pairings as they depart from the ark), or do we need seven pairs (but why so many), to make sure the animals do not get lonely and that there ill be enough to maintain the familial or herd mentality? And why are each represented in the Torah?

The command to take seven of each creature is specifically speaking of the clean or Kosher animals. Of those, Noah is commanded to take seven male and seven female of each. However, of the unclean animals, he is to take only two, male and his mate. The next verse, gen 7:4, reads כי עוד ימים שבעה..., for seven days remain until..., demonstrating another interesting use of the number seven. Ther is another week, another time of creation left for Noah to gather all these animals onto an ark of gopher wood which he has fashioned in his old age. But of course, when you're 600 years old, why would building an ark be tiring?

A very easy explanation for what happened and why we have these two sets of numbers is that the verse in 7:9 is simply saying that the animals entered two by two. But that doesn't take into account the verse in the previous chapter, 6:19 that requires Noah to have two of each animal on the ark. However, Talmud Sanhedrin 108b offers us some more recent writing on what actually happened on the ark (and by recent I mean still hundreds of years old!). It suggests that Noah couldn't distinguish between the clean and unclean animals, so the ark did it for him. Therefore, the numbers mattered only as much as the ark knowing which animals were allowed more and which less.

Although I don't believe in magic in the slightest, or witchcraft, the idea that the ark might have known who to allow entrance to the ark in large numbers and who to restrict is an interesting one. But it reminds us that all of God's creatures have value and are to be treated with respect. We, as both Jews and more importantly human beings, must take upon ourseles the responsibility to see the importance of all members of humanity. Especially with this most recent government shut down, where a gun fired outside congress had the entire building shut down and where people are simply left on furlough or without their precious food stamps, we must look to gather everyone on our own ark. But, just as Noah was not decisive of which animals he allowed to enter his ark, we must not be particular. We must allow all creatures to enter our sacred spaces and join us in conversation. We must be aware of our prejudices against others and not allow them to take over.

So, whether we actually have a real ark we are building in our back yard (it better be a rather spacious yard in order to hold the specified dimensions!) or we simply know that trouble has been brewing in our world, we know that a flood is not likely to come and destroy the whole world. Rather, it is upon us to change those around us and open their eyes to the good we can do. The more that we can do to repair the world in our general environment, the better everything will be. And of course, the numbers seven and two will remain simply numbers instead of requirements of how many animals we must allow to enter our ark.