Torah: Chayai Sarah:
Seeking a sense of meaning in the transitions of life
One of the most interesting realities of studying Torah is how often the passage of the week reflects the life one may be living. Far from being an ancient collection of stories and myths, the weekly Torah portion all too often rises and confronts us with a message that we may be living at the time. Such a week is this week! Chayai Sarah begins with the death of Sarah. The Midrash makes quite a connection between her death and the previous chapter in Genesis, the Akedah, where Abraham is asked to sacrifice Isaac. The Midrash weaves stories that when Sarah heard what was going on she died, from a broken heart, shock, disbelief, etc. Abraham negotiates a burial place for his wife and then, in chapter 24, sends out Eliezer, his senior servant to find a wife for Isaac. The portion is bookended, with Abraham’s death in 25.
There is a myriad of approaches to the portion. Yet, there is a theme, I suggest, that relates to each of us. That is the cycle of life and death and the mystery that surrounds each of us. The portion became personal this week. On Monday night my wife and I arrived back home after a week of travel with our grandson, a bar mitzvah present trip, a year in the making, that was alive with experiences and memories. Within a few hours of our arrival back home I found out that one of my closest friends, (since 8th grade) had died. He had been quite ill for a while and we had been in constant touch, even when we were away, but time ran out the day before we flew home. One the one hand the joy of giving a gift of memory and experience to a grandson. On the other the grief and yes, still shock, that a close friend, a contemporary just 3 weeks younger than myself, had died. Joy and sadness? Life and death? Two realities that are becoming more a part of each of our lives.
rIn her book on Genesis, Dr. Avivah Gottlieb Zornberg, notes, when discussing Chayai Sarah, the concept of what she called the “vertigo of existence”. I read this line while still trying (and failing) to process my friend’s death. It is a brilliant phrase, I think, because it describes what many of us are feeling now. The vertigo, the inability to have a solid foundation, the sense of being adrift; all of these seem to be part of much of our lives. We need to deal with a variety of losses, from friends to physical and mental changes. Likewise, we also experience the joys of life; being with friends, experiencing new opportunities with children and grandchildren, if we are so blessed. Because we are more aware of that carousel of time, these moments of life and death become more precious. They are not so subtle reminders of our own life cycle, of its unpredictability and the need to practice gratitude every day. To think about all of this can be dizzying, it is, as Zornberg wrote, a “vertigo of existence”.
Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Richard F Address
jewishsacredaging.com