Chayei Sara (the lifetime of Sarah) ironically and famously opens with the matriarch passing away at the age of 127. As part of the mourning process, Abraham must secure a grave site and attend to her burial. The irony continues in that, despite having come to the land that G-d has promised him, the patriarch must nevertheless negotiate with the Hittites to arrange for the proper acquisition of the property. According to Rashi, this is one of Abraham’s ten trials. As the process unfolds, we get a glimpse of a timeless Jewish reality. Approaching the Hittites for the public and formal transaction, Abraham says, “I am a stranger and a resident among you.” Unsure as to how he will be treated, he is completely above board with his wariness. Abraham approaches the locals with self-deprecation and humility, since he doesn’t know yet whether he will be regarded with honor or as an interloper. The answer is both. The elders who facilitate the transaction refer to Abraham as “a prince of G-d,” and treat him with the utmost deference. Ephron, however is the owner of the land Abraham wishes to purchase, containing a field and the cave of Machpela. The negotiation between Abraham and Ephron is overly formal, but it becomes clear that the distinguished Ephron has no intention of giving the land away. When all the compliments, bowing, and shows of generosity are concluded, Abraham buys the land… at full price. The exchange is a telling one. When Abraham described the duality of being a Jew in a non-Jewish society, he was acknowledging that we constantly strive to strike that balance; upstanding citizens of the disparate lands in which we live, yet also somewhat alien because our primary allegiance, ultimately, is to G-d and Torah. Abraham’s circumstances dictate that he honor Sarah by providing for her proper burial, yet he must also play out this public formality with Ephron and the other civic leaders in order to ensure that the transaction is properly executed and witnessed, and Machpela will belong to him in perpetuity. There can be a very fine line between the stranger and the resident. When in harmony, the dual roles we play can result in times of incredible prosperity and productivity. But if we allow one side to take over, either by becoming so assimilated that we lose our identity or by segregating ourselves so completely that we have no role to play in society at large, then we put ourselves at risk. What Abraham knew all those millennia ago is no less true today.
Shabbat ShalomRabbi/Hazzan David B. Sislen
Shabbat ShalomRabbi/Hazzan David B. Sislen
