Chayei Sarah — Genesis 23:1-25:18, The Parashat Hashavua for Saturday, November 3, 2018
We call our Torah, Etz Chayim, a Tree of Life. How cruel then, that 11 Jews were murdered in the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh this last Shabbat. How do we take in the horror of this crime? We are shocked by the worst mass killing of Jews in American history. But this is not the first time innocent Jews have been victims of hateful violence. We just have not experienced it here. How should we respond, with more hatred, with fear, or with healing and unity? Our Torah teaches us always to choose life, that we must strive to come together. We see that in this week’s Torah portion. Ishmael and Isaac have been estranged for most of their lives since Abraham and Sarah drove Ishmael out of the family after Isaac’s birth. But here, near the end of this week’s parsha, we read, “And Abraham breathed his last, dying at a good ripe age, old and contented; and he was gathered to his kin. His sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the cave of Machpelah, in the field of Ephron son of Zohar the Hittite, facing Mamre,” (Genesis 25:8-9) Our sages teach that later in life, Isaac sought out his brother Ishmael and visited him at his camp. Over time Isaac healed the wounds that divided them and they came together again as brothers. This is how they could bury their father together. Our Torah teaches us that we must answer hate with love and defy anyone who tries to divide us, by working for unity, connection and equality for all. Our lives depend on it.
Solidarity Shabbat – Chaiyeh Sarah – Nov 2, 2018
November 6, 2018 by Dean Kertesz • Drashot
On Wednesday night, after the first of the 11 funerals in Pittsburgh, my daughter lit 13 yahrzeit candles: 11 for the Jews murdered in the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh and 2 for the black man and woman murdered in Louisville, Kentucky.
This has been a week of funerals in Pittsburgh: Our tradition is to bury our dead within one or two days of their death. So we had three on Wednesday, three yesterday, and one today. This week’s Torah portion begins with a funeral. וַתָּ֣מָת שָׂרָ֗ה בְּקִרְיַ֥ת אַרְבַּ֛ע, (V’tamat Sarah b’kiriyat arba) Sarah died in Kiriath-arba—now Hebron—in the land of Canaan; and Abraham proceeded to mourn for Sarah and to bewail her.” Right now we are in the days of Shiva, the seven days of most intense mourning that follow a funeral. This is the time to remember the dead. Who they were. What their lives meant. There will be a time to talk about other things, the greater forces at work in our society, that contributed to these murders. I will talk about those in their time, but not tonight. Tonight is a time to mourn. So just as Abraham mourned Sarah, let us mourn these, our dead.
The murderer saw us as Jews. But we see each of the people he killed as human beings. We reclaim their humanity. Where a racist sees only blacks, we see individuals in their full human dignity. In the face of dehumanization, we assert the truth of our religious tradition. That God created every human being in the Divine image. That every human being is sacred, holy, unique and precious, a representation of the Divine image here on earth. As the poet Zelda wrote, לכל איש יש שם, (L’chol ish yesh shem) Every person has a name.
Our Torah portion this week also ends with a funeral. Abraham dies and, וַיִּקְבְּר֨וּ אֹת֜וֹ יִצְחָ֤ק וְיִשְׁמָעֵאל֙ בָּנָ֔יו אֶל־מְעָרַ֖ת הַמַּכְפֵּלָ֑ה, (v’Yikberu oto Yitzhak v’Yishmael banav al ma’arat h’machpelah) His sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the cave of Machpelah,” This second funeral is a story of reconciliaition. The two brothers, who have been estranged for so long, since they were children, are reconciled and come together to mourn their father. Our Rabbis teach us, in a midrash, that Yizhak sought out Yishmael and went to visit him frequently to rebuild the bonds of connection.
Look around you, here, now, in this room. We have come together to mourn the dead. To support each other. Just as the Jews in Pittsburgh are doing. Just as the black community in Kentucky is doing, and not just us.
Remember this, where there is hate there is also self-sacrifice and love. As I speak, four policemen are in the hospital in Pittsburgh recovering from the wounds they received when they put their lives at risk to stop the killer. Look at how the people of Pittsburgh turned out, in their thousands, from the mayor to the simple citizen, to embrace the Jewish community, to show their love. The mayor said, “The Jewish community is the backbone, it is part of the fabric of Pittsburgh and we will be there in all communities to help our friends in the Jewish community.”
Look around this room. Look who else is here with us from our community. Showing us love and support and commitment. You may feel afraid. You may feel anger. You may feel deep grief. Just look around now and remember, you are not alone.
My daughter lit 13 yahrzeit candles because the 11 Jews in Pittsburgh and the the black man and woman in Kentucky were all murdered by blind hatred. Without denying the individual circumstances of their lives, they are one in their deaths. They are all victims of blind hatred. This is not the first time in our people’s long history that Jews have been killed for being Jews, victims of blind hatred. But we have an answer to that. We call our Torah עץ חיים, (Etz Chayim) the Tree of Life, its message is one of lovingkindness. God says, “I have put before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life—if you and your offspring would live—” Where someone acts with hatred, we respond with love. Where someone sews enmity and division, we answer with community and connection. Were someone tries to spread fear, we respond with the strength that comes from hope and the certainty of human redemption. We do not cower. We come together and we continue our Jewish lives.
If these are the days of Shiva, the days of mourning, then we also remember that Shiva is suspended for Shabbat. Even in the depths of our despair we are commanded to rejoice in Shabbat. If you have been a mourner then you know how hard that can be. I remember because Shabbat came in the evening of the day we buried my mother on January 31st. But there is a reason for that. In our Kiddush, our blessing over the wine on Shabbat, we say, that Shabbat is זִכָּרון לְמַעֲשֵׂה בְרֵאשִׁית, (zecher l’ma’aseh vereishit) it is a remembrance of Creation, and it is also, זֵכֶר לִיצִיאַת מִצְרָיִם,(zecher l’itziyat Mitzrayim) a memory of the Exodus from Egypt. Shabbat reminds of God’s creative power, that the world is holy and that human beings are holy because created the Earth and all that is in it. Shabbat also reminds us that God’s intended purpose is freedom and dignity for all human beings. And if we haven’t achieved it yet, creation is not yet done. Shabbat reminds us that as long as we live we must affirm life and work for redemption. So let us embrace Shabbat and go out from here tonight committed to finishing God’s work of creation. In the memory of those who were slain last week, so that we can say זכרונם לברכה, (zichronam l’vrachah) may their memories be a blessing.
© 2018 Dean Kertesz