Shabbat Shalom! In this week’s Torah
portion, we start to transition from the story of Abraham and Sarah to the
story of Isaac and Rebecca. The portion, named Chayei Sarah, or, “the life of
Sarah,” starts off with Sarah’s death, followed by Abraham’s pursuit of a wife
for Isaac. Once Isaac is married off, our Torah is almost ready to shift the
focus completely to him and Rebecca, but first we have some loose ends to tie
off with Abraham.
Widowed Abraham gets married again and has more children, this time
to someone our text names as Ketura but our tradition tells us is Hagar, the
mother of his first child. When the hour arrives for Abraham to prepare for his
own death, the Torah tells us that he gives all that he has to Isaac, which
presumably refers to land and the inherited role of the family’s patriarch,
because the next line says that Abraham also gave gifts to all his sons but he
sends them to the east away from Isaac. Just as he had sent Ishmael away to
preserve the family peace and ensure Isaac inherited all the land promised him,
Abraham does the same to his younger children, this time without having to be
told. Our father Abraham, ever the intuitive peace-maker.
After Abraham dies, “God blessed his son Isaac.” The classic
midrashic text, Bereshit Rabbah, offers a parable on this:
Not blessings but gifts Abraham gave
Isaac. This is like a king who owned an orchard and gave it to a tenant-farmer
to tend. Two trees grew there, entangled with one another: one grew vital
potions, and one grew fatal poisons. The farmer said: “If I water the vital
tree, the fatal one will be nourished too. But if I don’t water the fatal one,
how will the vital one live?” He concluded: “I am merely a tenant-farmer, in
temporary charge of the orchard. Let me finish my duty and then let the owner
decide what to do.” So said Abraham: “If I bless Isaac now, the sons of Ishmael
and Ketura will be included. And if I don’t bless them, how can I bless Isaac?”
He concluded: “I am merely flesh and blood – here today and gone tomorrow. I
have already done what I had to do. From this point on, let God do what He
wishes in His world.” When he died, God revealed himself to Isaac and blessed
him. (Bereshit Rabbah 61:5)
I think this could be read as saying that the other children of
Abraham are like the poisonous tree: inseparable yet unwanted; dangerous yet
entangled with us. You could read God’s decision to bless Isaac Godself after
the death of Abraham as saying that Isaac was somehow wholly better than his
brothers, more deserving of goodness, and use that as justification for the
Jewish “chosen-ness.” Themes of nationalism and supremacy do exist in our texts,
and this could be read as one of them. But it could also be read as the
ultimate move in Abraham’s life of peace-keeping. He knew, as God had told him,
it would be through Isaac that the true heirs of Abraham’s blessing would come
into the world. But he still couldn’t bring himself to play favorites with his
children. In next week’s portion, we will hear the words of Esau, distraught
that Jacob has received his blessing, as he cries out, “Bless me too, Father.
Have you only one blessing?” It appears that indeed, there is only one blessing
to go around for each generation of this family, and Abraham is not willing to
make Ishmael or his younger sons feel the way Esau will feel at Isaac’s
silence. So, he blesses none. He withholds the blessing that was granted for
him to give, and he gives away only his earthly possessions, dividing them,
albeit unevenly, among all his children. Our father Abraham, ever the intuitive
peace-keeper.
In world with a sad lack of peace, let us all strive to be a little
more like Abraham. May we see the world in all its complexities and nuances,
may we seek to treat those around us fairly and equally, and may we ever be
more concerned with peace and justice, within our families, our communities,
and the world. Amen and Shabbat Shalom.
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