Continuity is about more than replication

Friday November 22, 2024/21 Heshvan 5785

Parashat Chaye Sarah

Hevre/Friends,

The most dramatic story in parashat Chaye Sarah is the one it DOESN'T tell – that of the reconciliation between Abraham and his son, Isaac, following the Akeda – Abraham’s binding and near-sacrifice of Isaac. There is never another word spoken between them. Ironically, the one thing Abraham knew he was required to give Isaac before his death depended precisely on an exchange of words:  he had to bless Isaac to pass on the Brit/Covenant.  And instead he dies in silence.

In one of the most poignant verses in the whole Torah, we read

 וַיְהִ֗י אַחֲרֵי֙ מ֣וֹת אַבְרָהָ֔ם וַיְבָ֥רֶךְ אֱלֹהִ֖ים אֶת־יִצְחָ֣ק בְּנ֑וֹ

“God blessed his son Isaac”.  Whose son?  Presumably Abraham’s, but written ambiguously as if to suggest that Abraham’s failure to bless Isaac required God to step in to become Isaac’s father to ensure the continuity of Judaism and the transmission of Jewish wisdom and values between the generations.

If you think about it, this parasha raises a lot of questions about the nature of continuity.

• Abraham purchasing a burial plot not only unfolds the fulfillment of God’s promise that the land of Canaan would be a home to him and his family, but it ensures his descendants’ continued presence on the land because they’d come pay their respects at the grave of their ancestors. How do our relationships with the generations before us - our grandparents and great grandparents - continue to make claims on our own Jewish lives? 

  
  

• When Abraham sends his servant, Eliezer, to go find a wife for Isaac, his orders are for him to return to Abraham’s family in Charan to find a bride from among his relatives. He makes Eliezer promise that Isaac won’t marry a Canaanite woman. But Eliezer asks: what if the bride from his family in Charan doesn’t want to come back to Canaan with him? Should he take Isaac to go live in Charan or should Isaac marry someone from Canaan and stay in the land, close to Abraham and where the Divine promise is meant to come true? What will ensure the continuity of the covenant – marrying into the right family but living far away from where its story will unfold or living in the place where Jewish destiny will take shape but marrying someone from a different background? I don’t have to tell you that these are not just ancient conflicts.

  
  

• When the Torah tells of Abraham’s last years before his death, it says: 

וַיִּתֵּ֧ן אַבְרָהָ֛ם אֶת־כּל־אֲשֶׁר־ל֖וֹ לְיִצְחָֽק׃

"Abraham gave all he owned to Isaac"

This is the only connection ever stated again between father and son: he gave him all his material possessions; his wealth. And then he dies. Is this continuity? Inheriting our parents' stuff? Did Abraham think that if Isaac lived a similar lifestyle to him then somehow all of his values and convictions would also be passed on?

Let’s step back a moment.

In order to ensure Jewish continuity, what is the responsibility of Jewish parents? More broadly, what is the responsibility of Jewish leaders, rabbis, teachers, camp counselors and Hillel leaders? Is the goal of Jewish leaders to educate and inspire the next generation to adopt their Jewish values and practices? Should we feel like we’ve failed if our kids, students, or campers make different choices than we do? Or, is it our role to offer the next generation the freedom to figure out for themselves what they believe and care about?  Should we try to influence or limit their choices? Or refrain from doing so?

And what’s the responsibility of Jewish children? Of Jewish students, campers, or social activists? How is the next generation supposed to receive the tradition that’s shared with them? Do children and grandchildren, students and campers have to embrace the same values and commitments of their parents, grandparents and mentors in order to become the proverbial “next link in the chain” and to carry forward their family and community’s vision? 

Can we define continuity as something more than only replication? Can we measure authenticity by more than just consistency? Is there something deeper and more courageous embedded within the unfolding of our never-ending Jewish story?

These are the questions we need to be discussing together - as families, as leaders, and as communities. After all, each of us in the Jewish community has a role to play as receivers of tradition and as transmitters of tradition. But you cannot transmit that which you don’t receive; you can’t share with others that which you don’t possess.

I’ve staked my rabbinate - and my parenthood - on the notion that there are myriad ways to live a meaningful and responsible Jewish life. Or, as Rumi said, there are one thousand ways to kneel and kiss the ground. When we acknowledge that there is more than one answer, we make room not just for more questions, but for more questioners.

When we invite our children, students, and campers to grow with us; when we teach them to ask, to wonder, to probe, to examine, to challenge, then even if their Jewish lives and choices end up looking different than ours -  which can be painful for us -  we will nonetheless have bequeathed to them the ultimate covenantal blessing:  the blessing of a life’s journey filled with meaning and purpose.  And we will remain bound to one another not as replicas of each other, but as fellow travelers through the wilderness, together seeking a promised land expansive enough to welcome us all home.

With ongoing prayers for the hostages and their families, the bereaved and the injured, and for a lasting peace in Israel and around the world, I wish you Shabbat Shalom.

Dini