November 22, 2024 - 21 Chesvan 5785 Parashat Chayei Sarah - Sometimes the Hardest Thing to Do
Dear Friends, Our patriarchs and matriarchs are flawed. And I appreciate that. They are fallible like all of us, never purporting to be saints. They are sometimes selfish, conniving, deceptive, arrogant. And yet, a common thread among them is that, as they grow in their respective stories, they strive to do the right thing. This week's Parsha, Chayei Sarah, contains a passage that is fascinating and somewhat bewildering to many of us. Sarah, Abraham's beloved wife, passes away at the beginning of the portion, at the age of 127, and Abraham sets out to acquire a burial plot for her and, ultimately, for himself as well. He approaches the Hittites and asks to purchase a plot, but they say to him, "You are the elect of God among us. Bury your dead in the choicest of our burial places; none of us will withhold his burial place from you for burying your dead." But Abraham refuses what seems to be their kindness, asking instead to speak with Ephron, presumably a Hittite leader, and owner of the Machpelah site Abraham wished to purchase. An exchange ensues not, unlike the first with the townspeople, with Ephron saying to Abraham, "No, my lord, hear me: I give you the field and I give you the cave that is in it; I give it to you in the presence of my people. Bury your dead." In front of them all, Abraham insisted, "If only you would hear me out! Let me pay the price of the land; accept it from me, that I may bury my dead there." And finally, the dance concludes, with Ephron responding, "My lord, do hear me! A piece of land worth 400 Shekels of silver - what is that between you and me? Go and bury your dead." Abraham pays him 400 Shekels, and, the chapter concludes, "So Ephron’s land in Machpelah, near Mamre—the field with its cave and all the trees anywhere within the confines of that field—passed to Abraham as his possession, in the presence of the Hittites, of the assembly in his town’s gate. Then Abraham buried his wife Sarah in the cave of the field of Machpelah, facing Mamre—now Hebron—in the land of Canaan. Thus, the field with its cave passed from the Hittites to Abraham as a burial site. There is a consensus among Torah scholars that, despite the seemingly gracious and generous tone of Ephron, that this is actually an exorbitant sum. And perhaps that's true. I wouldn't know, as I wasn't able to look up the exchange rates for that day. Were I in Abraham's shoes, I might very well have jumped at the multiple chances given me to bury my wife for free, rather than insisting on paying for it. But at the end of a very long, and often painfully difficult life, Abraham was trying, with all of his might, to do the right thing - both by his beloved wife as well as himself. He knew in his heart that spending whatever it took to legitimately purchase the land he sought, with the townspeople as witnesses, would secure that plot for her, himself, and his family after him and that there would be no doubt as to who rightfully acquired the land. He didn't want to leave it to chance, or the whims of Ephron or his kinsmen, to decide that allowing him to bury Sarah there was a one-time favor they did for him. This transaction, witnessed and documented, was an act of Chesed (lovingkindness) for his entire family, something that would outlive him and serve indefinitely as a monument of memorial for his descendants. Abraham did the right thing. I can't imagine how hard it must have been, especially in immediate mourning for his beloved. But, all the more so, inspired by his love and admiration for Sarah, he wanted, and needed, to do what was right. Doing the right thing - by ourselves, our family, friends, and everyone in our orbit - isn't always easy. In fact, oftentimes, the right thing to do is actually the hardest thing to do. In his life, Abraham definitely didn't always do the right thing. But here he most certainly did. May we be inspired by Abraham to have the strength and courage to do what we know in our hearts to be right. Even when - especially when - it's hardest to do so. Shabbat Shalom, Rabbi Joshua Strom
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