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.