Parashat Chayei Sarah 5769 - Forgiving

In this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Chayei Sarah, we mourn the deaths of both Sarah and Abraham, parents of the Jewish people. This week, I am drawn in particular to the scene of Abraham’s burial. The Torah explains:

This was the total span of Abraham's life: one hundred and seventy-five years. 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 Mamrethe field that Abraham had bought from the Hittites; there Abraham was buried, and Sarah his wife (Genesis 25:7-9).

On the surface, this is a routine, if not touching, burial scene: Abraham’s sons Isaac and Ishmael bury their father. And yet, the depth of this passage is actually much greater. For, you see, this is the first time Ishmael is facing his family since he and his mother were banished from their camp (described in last week’s Torah portion Vayeira in Genesis 21).

The great Medieval Torah scholar, Rashi, suggests, “From this [scene] we gather that Ishmael repented of his evil ways and yielded the precedence to Isaac.” But, I cannot see this scene through Rashi’s eyes. I believe that Rashi, attempting to elevate Isaac’s status even further, fails to perceive an even greater lesson in Ishmael’s actions. Ishmael had no evil ways from which to repent, at least no evil ways described in the Torah. As far as the Torah presents it, Ishmael is a victim, parented by Abraham and Hagar, Abraham’s Egyptian slave.

What are we to make of Ishmael’s life? At the hands of our ancestors, he was a victim of jealousy and pain, of anger and pettiness. But, there is purpose to all in Torah. I believe that we are to see in Ishmael a model of unique proportions. Ishmael, in this week’s parashah, transcends the hurt and pain caused by his parents and his birth family. Ishmael, despite all that had happened in his life, returned to honor his father’s memory. Despite what was done to him. Despite the details of his origins.

Each one of us privately holds our own hurts. Each one of us has been wronged, offended, or mistreated by others. Just as much as life is defined by our joy, it is also defined by our pain. Forgiveness is a deeply difficult task. On Yom Kippur we are asked to focus ourselves on apologizing to those we have wronged. But, I believe, the real work of Yom Kippur, and of our daily lives, lies not only in asking for forgiveness, but also in forgiving those who have wronged us, even when they don’t ask for our forgiveness. Abraham never asks for Ishmael’s. Nor does Sarah. Nor does Isaac. And yet, Ishmael returns. He returns to pay honor to his father and to stand side by side with his brother. And, maybe, Ishmael returns, as well, to begin his own healing.

On this Shabbat, I pray that each of us may take a few moments to consider those hurts we still carry with us. May we explore our own capacities for forgiveness. May we be inspired by the image of Ishmael, standing by his brother, mourning his father. May we imagine in Ishmael’s silent prayers words of honor and blessing.

In Response to Proposition 8

The Psalmist declares, “Those who sow in tears will reap in joy” (Psalm 126:5).

In May 2008, we knew joy. And, in November 2008, we once again knew tears.

But, our tradition reminds us that nothing is static.

Ecclesiastes tells us, “A season is set for everything, a time for every experience under the heaven,” (Ecclesiastes 3:1).

Those who supported Proposition 8 told us your time is never. But, there were millions of Californians who told us otherwise.

And, I say: The time for equality is now.

“One may lie down weeping at nightfall; but at dawn there are songs of joy” (Psalm 30:5).

Now, we must act. We must not lose hope. We must continue living.

“A time for silence and a time for speaking,” (Ecclesiastes 3:7)

Let us not lose voice. Let us join as one voice.

Martin Luther King, Jr. proclaimed, “The arc of history is long, but it bends toward justice...”

And so, we will continue to seek, continue to demand, continue to act for justice.

Parashat Lech L'cha 5769 -- The Land must support us all

This week’s Torah portion, Parashat Lech L’cha, begins with God’s famous call to Abram, “Go forth from your land” (Genesis 12:1). God promises Abram that his name will be great and that he will father a great nation. With these promise-filled words, Abram sets off toward Canaan with his wife Sarai and his nephew Lot.

Let us imagine this ancient entourage, making its way through the desert toward their newly defined destiny. Let us listen in on their conversations, tinged with excitement, anxiety, and fear. Let us smell their animals, clobbering along, and envision their amassed possessions, folded smartly into canvases. This is the image of our people’s beginnings!

And yet, what is hard to imagine, or maybe not that hard to imagine, is the speed with which our pastoral image cracks. There is a famine in the land. There is a scarcity of resources. Our ancestors fear for their safety. They encounter strangers with new customs. There is strife between uncle and nephew. The Torah teaches, “Now Lot, who had gone with Abram, also had flocks and herds and tents, so that the land could not support them both” (Genesis 13:5-6).

This is a story as ancient as any. The land could not support them both. And so, Lot takes off in one direction and Abram in another. And God tries again. “And Adonai said to Abram, after Lot had parted from him, ‘Raise your eyes and look out from where you are, to the north and south, to the east and west, for I give all the land that you see to you and your offspring forever” (Genesis 13:14-15).

Our Torah is trying to teach us something, here. Conflicts are not solved by mere separation, by simply turning our backs to the problem, by simply sending it away. As hard as God tries, as hard as Abram tries, sending the problem away does not make it disappear. The land could not support them both. These are dangerous words; the Torah seems to warn us. Lot and Abram separate, but the story won’t end.

Just one chapter later, Lot and his family are taken prisoner and Abram rescues them. And in next week’s Torah portion, Lot and his family find themselves embroiled in a dangerous, terrible moral drama. Abram is once again face to face with his nephew.

No! Our Torah seems to cry. The land must support us all. We cannot solve the difficult, especially the most fundamental of differences, by ignoring them, turning our backs on them, or banishing them. Today’s Torah portion reminds us that healing is needed in the face of conflict. Healing comes when we seek to understand, when we seek to solve.

On this Shabbat, each of is called upon to consider the ways in which we simply turn our backs on that which feels too much for us to confront. Torah tells us, we are all made from dust of the same earth and we are all destined to live upon it together. The land must support us all. And, we must learn to live on it.