Chayei Sarah
Sarah's life — חיי שרה
Note: The regular readings above are often interrupted with special readings on Jewish holidays, special Sabbaths, and Rosh Chodesh. Refer to the annual Torah Portion schedule for these special portions.
Portion Summary
The fifth reading from the book of Genesis is named Chayei Sarah (חיי שרה). It means "Sarah lived," because the narrative begins with the words "Now Sarah lived one hundred and twenty-seven years" (Genesis 23:1). This portion of the Torah is filled with romance and sorrow. It tells the story of how Abraham mourned his wife after her passing, and how he procured a wife for his son Isaac. At the end of this portion, Abraham is laid to rest beside his beloved wife.
Portion Outline
· Torah
o Genesis 23:1 | Sarah's Death and Burial
o Genesis 24:1 | The Marriage of Isaac and Rebekah
o Genesis 25:1 | Abraham Marries Keturah
o Genesis 25:7 | The Death of Abraham
o Genesis 25:12 | Ishmael's Descendants
· Prophets
o 1Ki 1:1 | The Struggle for the Succession
o 1Ki 1:28 | The Accession of Solomon
Quest for the Bride of Isaac
The quest for Rebekah, the bride of Isaac, alludes to the redemption of Israel, the bride of the Messiah.
Rebecca Meets Isaac by the Way (watercolor circa 1896–1902 by James Tissot via Wikimedia Commons).
Some rabbis read the story of Isaac and Rebekah as an allegory about God and the Jewish people. The prophets often describe the relationship between the LORD and His people as that of a husband to a wife. In view of this metaphor, the death of Sarah can be compared to the exile—her empty tent can be compared to Jerusalem.8 The mission to bring Rebekah out of Aram and into the promised land can be compared to the final redemption when the Messiah will gather the exiles of Israel and lead them to the land. “For as a young man marries a virgin … and as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride,” the LORD will rejoice over Zion in the final redemption (Isaiah 62:5):
The voice of joy and the voice of gladness, the voice of the bridegroom and the voice of the bride, the voice of those who say, “Give thanks to the LORD of hosts, for the LORD is good, for His lovingkindness is everlasting.” (Jeremiah 33:11)
Moreover, as the bride of Isaac, Rebekah symbolizes Messiah’s bride. Isaac prefigures Messiah in several ways. He is the promised “seed of Abraham,” the only begotten son who was sacrificed. In a symbolic manner Isaac represents Messiah. If we carry that imagery forward into this parashah, we can look to the story about Rebekah for insight into the bride of Messiah and her relationship with Isaac.
Abraham commissioned his servant Eliezer and sent him on a mission to seek out a suitable bride. In Hebrew, a person sent on a mission is called a shaliach (שליח), which means “sent one.” The same word translates into Greek as apostolos (ἀπόστολος), which in turn enters English New Testament translations as “apostle.” In that sense, Abraham commissioned and sent Eliezer as his apostle.
Yeshua commissioned His apostles with a similar assignment. He sent them to make disciples for Himself. These disciples, in turn, constitute the Assembly of Messiah, which the New Testament metaphorically refers to as the “bride of Messiah.”9 When read in this light, Genesis 24 becomes a textbook for evangelism and transmitting the good news of the kingdom.
The Messiah Himself is the Shaliach of God, sent by the Father to proclaim the gospel of the kingdom. In the Gospel of John, Yeshua repeatedly reminds His disciples that He was sent from the Father. He refers to God as “The One who sent me,” “the Father who sent me,” “He who sent me,” and so forth. Yeshua used the term in various formulas at least forty times throughout the book. In that regard, He models the work of the shaliach for us.
Falling in love with someone is a bad reason to get married, but upon what should a marriage be based? The story of Isaac and Rebekah holds the secret.
Photo of a couple on their wedding day. (Image © Bigstock). In our culture, we believe that a person should marry whoever he or she falls in love with. The Bible has a different view.
Isaac took his bride into his mother's tent. All this time Sarah's tent had been empty and forlorn, symbolizing the absence of the eishet chayil (virtuous wife). The Torah portion began the story of Rebekah by telling us of the death of Sarah. Since his mother's death, Isaac had been in mourning. He keenly felt her absence. Isaac taking his bride into Sarah's tent symbolizes Rebekah stepping into Sarah's role as matriarch over the house of Abraham. In the language of the rabbis, Rebekah became the house of Isaac.
Abraham loved Sarah, and Isaac loved Rebekah. Genesis 24:67 says that Isaac took Rebekah, she became his wife and he loved her. Notice the order. This seems backward to us. We would expect the opposite. He should have fallen in love with her, married her and then taken her into the tent. The Bible has a more sober (but no less romantic) view of marriage. Isaac did not marry Rebekah because he loved her; he loved Rebekah because he married her. Considering the folly of the human heart and the fickle ups and downs of emotions, this is the proper order of things. We should love our spouses because they are our spouses.
Love followed be marriage seems like the natural order, but it's a bad plan. It is possible to fall in love with the wrong person. It is possible to fall in love with many wrong persons. Falling in love is a terrible criteria upon which to base a marriage. It would have been easy for Isaac to fall in love with any number of Canaanite girls.
As children of Abraham and followers of Messiah, we are to love our spouses. Paul tells men to love their wives as themselves—and more than that, to love them as Messiah loved the assembly. He warns husbands not to become embittered against their wives. It's not a matter of the whims and inclinations of the heart; it is a duty of every husband to love his wife.
If a man or woman bases his or her marriage merely on love, it is doomed from the start. Feelings are unpredictable. They rise and fall. They come and go. Marriage must not be based upon love. Love must be based upon marriage.
In our culture, we believe that a person should marry whoever he or she falls in love with. This is a bad plan. It is possible to fall in love with the wrong person. It is possible to fall in love with many wrong persons.
A couple share a romantic moment (Image: Bigstock)
Abraham’s servant Eliezer was sent to find a wife for Isaac. He prayed that God would indicate which woman He had appointed for Isaac to marry. God miraculously singled out Rebekah. Later, when recounting the story of his encounter with Rebekah to her family, they had to admit, “The matter comes from the LORD” (Genesis 24:50). By all appearances, God had appointed Rebekah to be the wife of Isaac.
This teaches that God appoints each person’s a spouse. Some people call this appointed person a soul mate.
How do you know when you have found your soul mate? And what exactly is a soul mate? The idea is that each individual has one other person, somewhere out there, who is his or her preordained, perfect match. A person’s soul mate is the ideal complement to fulfill his or her physical, spiritual and psychological needs. Soul mates are like two halves of the same soul, and if you marry the wrong person, you will never be truly happy because you missed your soul mate. This is not a biblical idea.
In our culture, we believe that a person should marry whoever he or she falls in love with. This is a bad plan. It is possible to fall in love with the wrong person. It is possible to fall in love with many wrong persons. Falling in love is a terrible criteria upon which to base a marriage.
The search for a soul mate sounds romantic, but how do you know if the one you are with is really your soul mate? Isn’t it possible that you missed your true soul mate, or might still encounter him or her? What if you were married previously and are now on your second marriage? Was your first spouse your soul mate, or is this one the true soul mate? The soul-mate concept is a foolish idea that ultimately discourages people from getting married because they fear that their prospective match might not be their soul mate. For people already married, the soul-mate concept can lead to discontentment and uncertainty.
The soul-mate idea does exist in Judaism. It was probably born from a misunderstanding of the Jewish concept of soul mate. Among Yiddish-speaking Jews, the term for soul mate is bashert (באשערט). Bashert is a Yiddish word that means “destiny.” A person’s ideal spouse is called his or her “destined one.” How is this different from the romantic soul-mate concept? You cannot seek your destined one, because you will not know if you are destined to be together until you marry each other. Once you are married, destiny has been fulfilled and proven your soul mate. In other words, your spouse is your destined one. The person you are married to is the person God has ordained for you. If he or she was not, you would not be married.
So don’t waste time trying to find your soul mate. She/he does not exist and will not exist until you get married. Once you are married, you can be confident that your spouse is your true bashert.
The Matchmaker
In Hebrew, a match between a man and a woman is called a shidduch (שידוך). Finding a shidduch for someone else is considered to be a great mitzvah (good deed). It is a responsibility that the whole Jewish community takes seriously—after all, the future of the nation depends upon successful matches.
Everyone remembers the matchmaker from the movie Fiddler on the Roof. A matchmaker is called a shadkan (שדכן). A person with a special talent for matchmaking is referred to as a shadkan, but it is not a field reserved exclusively for professionals. Everyone in a community is supposed to be keeping an eye out for potential matches. It is such a serious duty that even the great rabbis are known for keeping notes concerning potential mates for the purpose of making matches.
It may be true that opposites attract, but they don’t stick together very well. A successful shadkan looks for mutual compatibility. He tries to match people on the basis of personality, disposition and character as well as watching for similar family backgrounds, values, social and economic standing. It’s not an easy job, but it’s an important one. The responsibility of making matches is so important and so difficult that the rabbis claimed that God Himself has been occupied with the matter ever since creation.
In the small and splintered world of Messianic Judaism, every person needs to contribute to the effort of matchmaking.
The world has plenty of religions and ideologies for sale, each one clamoring for attention like obnoxious salesmen. What do we have to offer the world?
Child on a beach with hands cupped holding
stone pebble with the word hope engraved. (Image © Bigstock)
Abraham sent his servant Eliezer to find a wife for his son Isaac. The name Eliezer (אליעזר) literally means “God of Help.” As Eliezer went forth to procure a bride for Isaac, he relied on the God of Help to assist him. An angel went before him.
When we set out to do the work of God, we need to rely on Him for help, especially in the matter of evangelism. After all, we are not trying to make converts to a religious creed; we are trying to change hearts. This is an impossible task for a human being. Even the greatest psychiatrists cannot change the human heart. Therefore, like Eliezer, we rely utterly on the God of Help.
Then the servant took ten camels from the camels of his master, and set out with a variety of good things of his master’s in his hand; and he arose and went to Mesopotamia, to the city of Nahor. (Genesis 24:10)
As we go forth to proclaim the good news, we bring the good things from the household of God. In the midst of a lost and hurting world, we have the goods that people need. What are these good things of our Master’s house? They are acts of loving-kindness, forgiveness, wholeness, peace, and that most precious of all commodities: hope. Many people have never experienced unconditional love. They have never known real kindness, real friendship, real compassion. Many people have lived most of their lives without even modest hopes. These are things we have received in abundance through Messiah, and we can pass them on to others, but only if we bring them with us.
Eliezer brought the gifts from his master’s household with him in order to establish his credibility. If he had simply appeared in Aram, claiming to be looking for an attractive young girl to bring back to some faraway prince, the men of that place would have driven him away as a scoundrel and kidnapper.
Is it any different with us? If we start to speak into people’s lives about God and faith without first having provided them with evidence of the fruit of our faith, they will drive us away as religious fanatics. The world has plenty of religions and ideologies for sale, each one clamoring for attention like obnoxious salesmen.
The good things of our Master’s house establish credibility: “Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control” (Galatians 5:22-23). The fruit of the Spirit is irresistible to the thirsty soul. A person of genuine faith and conviction who lives out his faith and manifests his convictions in godliness and real kindness, without phoniness or pretense, naturally attracts others.
The Canaanites
Abraham insisted that Isaac should not marry a Canaanite. What about today? Is it safe to worship with Canaanites?
Old representation of Jesus meeting the
Canaanite woman. Created by Flandrin, published on L'Illustration Journal
Universel, Paris, 1857 (Image: Bigstock/marzolino)
Abraham warned Eliezer not to seek a bride for Isaac from among the Canaanite women. Abraham knew that the Canaanites were destined to be ejected from the land and erased from history. He did not think it prudent that his seed, to whom God had promised the land, should intermarry with a race from whom the land was to be taken. The midrash imagines Abraham reasoning: “My son is blessed, and the accursed cannot unite with the blessed.”
In today’s world, there are no Canaanites. The Canaanites ceased to be an identifiable people group long ago. Nevertheless, the warning still has relevance for our outreach efforts today. The Canaanite religion became a toxic poison for the children of Israel, seducing them into idolatry and syncretism. Likewise, we must not bring the religion of Canaan into the house of Abraham. In our zeal to make converts, we should not allow the idolatrous world to exercise its influence over the Assembly of Messiah:
Do not be bound together with unbelievers; for what partnership have righteousness and lawlessness, or what fellowship has light with darkness? … What has a believer in common with an unbeliever? Or what agreement has the temple of God with idols? For we are the temple of the living God. (2 Corinthians 6:14–16)
On the other hand, the disciple of Yeshua should have no hesitation about reaching out to the godless, the wicked, the secular, or the idolater. The transforming power of the gospel is not limited by ethnic or sociological boundaries. The good news taught by our Messiah can transform even the most reprehensible idolater into a worthy spiritual bride, sanctified “by the washing of water with the word, that He might present to Himself the church in all her glory, having no spot or wrinkle or any such thing; but that she would be holy and blameless” (Ephesians 5:26–27). Yeshua’s disciples needed to learn this lesson before they could be effective apostles. Two incidents from the New Testament illustrate the matter: the story of Yeshua’s encounter with the Samaritan woman (John 4) and the story of the Peter’s encounter with Cornelius the centurion (Acts 10).
The story of the Master’s encounter with the Samaritan woman in John 4 reminds readers that, in those days, “Jews had no dealings with Samaritans” (John 4:9). The Jewish people of the day considered Samaritans as the equivalent of Canaanites, but the Master shoved aside the conventional prejudices and engaged the Samaritan woman in conversation. His example opened the way for His disciples to present the gospel to the Samaritan people.
The story of Peter and Cornelius opened the scope of the gospel message even wider. Peter deemed Gentiles as outside the purview of God’s redemption. He regarded them as “Canaanites,” so to speak, in that he had never imagined taking the message of the gospel directly to non-Jews. He misunderstood the commission to go to all nations as a reference to the Jewish people and converts to Judaism scattered among the nations, but the vision of the sheet let down from heaven reoriented Peter’s thinking. The gospel is sufficient to save even the Gentiles.
Praying in Abraham’s Name
Christians pray “in Jesus name” because that is how our Master taught us to pray. Chasidic Judaism understands this principle and encourages praying in the name of a righteous man.
Disciples of Yeshua pray “in His name,” but what does that really mean? To learn the significance of praying in the name of Yeshua, we first have to understand what it means to pray in the name of Abraham.
He said, “O LORD, the God of my master Abraham, please grant me success today, and show lovingkindness to my master Abraham.” (Genesis 24:12)
When Abraham sent Eliezer out on the mission to find a bride for Isaac, he assured his servant that the mission would be a success because of God’s covenant promises. Abraham told his servant that the LORD “Who swore to me, saying, ‘To your seed I will give this land,’ He will send His angel before you, and you will take a wife for my son from there” (Genesis 24:7). Abraham trusted that the mission would succeed because God had made promises to him regarding his offspring.
When Eliezer arrived at the city well, he prayed. He did not pray out loud. He prayed “speaking in [his] heart” (Genesis 24:45). He asked God to show chesed (חסד ) to Abraham by indicating a bride for Isaac. The Hebrew word chesed can be understood as “lovingkindness,” but in this context, it implies “covenant devotion.”
This explains what it means to pray in the name of someone else. Eliezer did not attempt to persuade God to hear him on his merit alone. He invoked the name of Abraham and reminded the Almighty of His obligations to Abraham. He prayed in Abraham’s name.
Christians pray “in Jesus name” because that is how our Master taught us to pray. Yeshua said to the disciples, “Until now you have asked for nothing in My name; ask and you will receive, so that your joy may be made full” (John 16:24). The typical, Protestant, extemporaneous prayer concludes with the formulaic ending “in Jesus’ name” as if it meant “signing off, over and out.” Prayer in Jesus’ name has a far richer meaning. When we pray in His name, we remind the Father of His chesed toward the Son, and we remind Him that we are associated with the Son. We ask to be answered not on our own merit, but on His merit.
Chasidic Judaism understands this principle and encourages praying in the name of a righteous man. For example, some Chasidim use a similar formula when they pray in the name and in the merit of their Rebbe. The Chasidim teach, “The Rebbe is not an intermediary who intercepts the prayers, but an intermediary who connects the prayers to God.”
Likewise, our Master warned the disciples against imagining that He will pray on their behalf as an intermediary between them and God. The Father Himself delights to answer the prayers of Yeshua’s disciples. Disciples of Yeshua beseech the Father through the Son. We address our prayers to the Father in the authority of Yeshua’s Name. He taught us to pray to the Father in the name of the Son, “Our Father who art in Heaven …”
In that day you will ask in My name, and I do not say to you that I will request of the Father on your behalf; for the Father Himself loves you, because you have loved Me and have believed that I came forth from the Father. (John 16:26–27)
Based on the prayer of Abraham’s servant Eliezer, the disciples of Yeshua might pray:
O LORD, the God of my Master Yeshua, please grant me success today, and show chesed to my Master Yeshua.
Stranger in a Strange Land
Ever feel strange or like you don't quite fit in? Your in good company. Abraham described himself as a stranger in a strange land. He lived as a nomad and a stranger in a land that did not belong to him.
God promised Abraham the whole land of Canaan, but the reality was that Abraham did not even own enough land to bury his wife. Abraham was a stranger in Canaan without any property of his own. He did not have a family tomb. He had to purchase property from the locals. Abraham approached the Hittites who lived at Hebron and said, “I am a stranger and a sojourner among you.” The author of the book of Hebrews paraphrased that statement in his remarks on Abraham’s sojourn in Canaan:
By faith he lived as an alien in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, dwelling in tents with Isaac and Jacob, fellow heirs of the same promise; for he was looking for the city which has foundations, whose architect and builder is God. (Hebrews 11:9–10)
Having confessed that they were strangers and exiles on the [land]. For those who say such things make it clear that they are seeking a country of their own. And indeed if they had been thinking of that country from which they went out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; for He has prepared a city for them. (Hebrews 11:13–16)
The author of the book of Hebrews inferred from Abraham’s statement “I am a stranger and a sojourner among you” that Abraham was seeking after Messianic Jerusalem and the kingdom of heaven on earth. He looked for “the city which has foundations, whose architect and builder is God” and “a better country, that is, a heavenly one.” If he had merely been seeking a homeland to call his own, he could have returned to Aram in Mesopotamia where his family still had holdings.
Abraham had plenty of opportunities to return to Aram, and later in this parashah, he sends his servant Eliezer back there. That being the case, why did Abraham and Sarah choose to live as nomads and strangers on a little scrap of a promised land that they themselves were not going to inherit? The author of the epistle to the Hebrews says, “These died in faith, without receiving the promises, but having seen them and having welcomed them from a distance, and having confessed that they were strangers and exiles on the earth” (Hebrews 11:13). They lived as strangers and exiles in the land of Canaan, but they did so confident in the future inheritance. They sought the promised land of the Messianic Era. They anticipated the transcendent, “holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, made ready as a bride adorned for her husband” (Revelation 21:2).
In the world to come, the Jerusalem above will descend to unite with the physical Jerusalem below. Then the upper waters will be rejoined with the lower waters.
Though Abraham and Sarah could only glimpse it as if from a distance, and even then, only through the eyes of faith, that glimpse of the Messianic Era and the New Jerusalem of the world to come made this current world and all it had to offer pale in comparison. Abraham identified himself as a citizen of the future kingdom and city. As to this present world and all it had to offer, he said, “I am a stranger and a sojourner among you.” Therefore, God was not ashamed to be called the God of Abraham.
Hidden Person of the Heart
Our mother Sarah was the most beautiful woman in the world--and the most modest woman in the world.
Abraham was captivated by Sarah's beauty all their years together. "I know that you are a beautiful woman" (Genesis 12:11), he told her. Sarah must have been beautiful. She caught the eyes of kings. She was taken into the harems of Pharaoh and Abimelech. But Sarah possessed more than a pretty face.
The Apostle Peter taught that Sarah's great beauty came from her inner quality. He called this inner quality the "hidden person of the heart" (1 Peter 3:4). What is the "hidden person of the heart"? Peter is speaking of Sarah's modesty.
Our modern culture has accustomed us to brazenness. We no longer have a sense of shame or boundaries. We have forgotten how to blush. In the biblical culture, modesty is much more than simple reticence about one's own accomplishments and merits. In Hebrew, the word modesty comes from the verb tzana (צנע), a word that implies humility, submission and discretion. A modest person is a person who knows the difference between private and public, inside and outside, male and female.
The immodest person pays no regard to gender lines. The immodest person makes no distinction between appropriate and inappropriate conversation. Paul warns us that among believers "there must be no filthiness and silly talk, or course jesting" (Ephesians 5:4). He reminds us that "it is disgraceful even to speak of the things which are done by [the disobedient] in secret" (Ephesians 5:12). He warns Timothy to "avoid worldly and empty chatter, for it will lead to further ungodliness" (2 Timothy 2:16). A modest person is careful with his words; he does not seek to draw attention to himself. He does not interrupt to speak his mind.
The Proverbs say that "the woman of folly is boisterous" (Proverbs 9:13). A loud person who dominates a conversation or interjects himself into others' conversations displays immodesty.
The immodest person is flirtatious. The Bible criticizes women of pride who "walk with heads held high and seductive eyes, and go along with mincing steps and tinkle the bangles on their feet" (Isaiah 3:16). God is not impressed with fashion, charm, wiles or bangles.
A modest person does not share the intimacy of physical affection outside of the privacy of marriage. The kiss, the hug, the caress, and even simple hand-holding are means of connection between husband and wife, who are one flesh. When offered to others of the opposite gender outside of marriage, these simple affections are cheapened and rendered meaningless.
A modest woman is careful to properly cover herself. "She makes coverings for herself. ... Strength and dignity are her clothing," says Proverbs 31:22-25. The private parts of our bodies are clothed to keep them private. The immodest person dresses to expose as much as possible. "As a ring of gold in a swine's snout so is a beautiful woman who lacks discretion" (Proverbs 11:22).
The apostles caution women in particular against adorning themselves to attract attention. Peter says, "Your adornment must not be merely external ... let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is precious in the sight of God" (1 Peter 3:3-4).
Peter states that this is how the holy women of the past, such as Sarah, used to adorn themselves, and he reminds us that we "have become her children" (1 Peter 3:6). Sarah knew the difference between inside and outside, between private and public. Her beauty radiated out from the hidden person within her heart.
Parashat Chayei Sarah - Genesis 23:1-25:18
Series:
And these were the life of Sarah: one hundred years, twenty years and seven years; the years of the life of Sarah. (Genesis 23:1)
What can we learn from Sarah's death?
This week’s Torah portion begins by giving us the lifespan of Sarah. If one is not familiar with the breakdown of the Torah portions we would expect to begin reading more about the life of Sarah, since the portion is entitled Chayei Sarah, “The Life of Sarah.” But the very next words we read are, “And Sarah died.” It’s not quite what we expect of our Torah portion.
Despite the fact that we begin our portion reading about the death of Sarah, there is something we can indeed learn about the life of Sarah from this passage. Although our translations render the first verse so that it reads better in English, in Hebrew this verse contains an unusual repetition. It uses the same phrase, chayei Sarah (“the life of Sarah”), two different times. After it is used at the beginning of the verse, it seems to be used redundantly at the end of the verse. Our sages teach us, however, that the Torah does not waste even a single letter, much less entire words. Therefore, the seemingly redundant expression, “the life of Sarah,” must offer us some insight into a deeper meaning of the text. But what is the Torah wanting to teach us through this?
Throughout the Tanach (the Hebrew Scriptures), the concept of life-after-death is not plainly mentioned. This principle is not explicitly mentioned until the Apostolic Scriptures. However, our sages and Apostles had a firm belief in this concept based on their understanding of the Tanach alone. How did they come up with such a strong conviction? Through a careful reading of passages such as these. This passage mentions the life of Sarah twice. Therefore, our sages deduced that the Torah speaks of Sarah’s life in this world and her life in the world to come. Although her life in this world had ended, she will one day be resurrected to experience life again. This is also attested to by the Hebrew Scriptures in that the word chai, life, is never used in the singular, but always in the plural.
During the first century there was a debate between the Pharisees and the Sadducees in regard to the resurrection. The Sadducees, maintaining a literal reading of the Tanach, rejected the notion of resurrection. The Pharisees, however, approached the Scriptures entirely different and saw the resurrection in numerous passages. Knowing that Yeshua aligned himself doctrinally with the Pharisees, the Sadducees challenged him to provide proof for the resurrection. Yeshua responded:
And as for the resurrection of the dead, have you not read what was said to you by God: “I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob”? He is not God of the dead, but of the living. (Matthew 22:31–32)
But his words were not the only evidence he gave. Yeshua eventually settled this debate conclusively with his own resurrection:
But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For as by a man came death, by a man has come also the resurrection of the dead. (1 Corinthians 15:20–21)
Human beings were created with the capacity to move from one life to the next. Our life does not end once our physical bodies have ceased functioning. Sarah lived a full and meaningful life in this world. At the resurrection she will life again. But she didn’t wait until the resurrection to start living fully. She lived out her years in service to her Creator. Have you begun living yet? If not, what are you waiting on? Life begins now.
Parashat Chayei Sarah - Genesis 23:1-25:18
Series:
Identity In Anonymity
In this week’s Torah portion we read about death and life. Although Parashat Chayei Sarah is deeply saddening in that we learn about the deaths of both Abraham and Sarah, it’s chapters are also filled with the romantic story of Isaac’s betrothal and marriage to Rebecca. Let’s turn to this latter event to understand more about our role as a disciple of Yeshua.
In regard to Isaac’s marriage to Rebecca the Torah explains, “So Isaac was comforted after his mother's death” (Genesis 24:67). Isaac’s marriage was a source of comfort and joy to not only Isaac, but to Abraham as well. As soon as Abraham had laid Sarah to rest in the cave of Machpelah, he began working to procure a wife for his son. One of the more unique factors about the engagement of Isaac to Rebecca, however, is that it took place in a manner that is foreign to most people today, especially those of us entrenched in Western culture. Rather than Isaac meeting a beautiful young lady at a social event and asking her out on a date, Isaac and Rebecca’s relationship was pre-arranged by their parents. In Judaism, this is called a shidduch, a pre-arranged marriage. In a world of independence, self-reliance, distrust, and cynicism, this practice seems oppressive to our modern senses. However, in Abraham’s day when a relationship was established between the heads of two families it was understood to be in the best interests of the children.
The story of Isaac and Rebecca begins when Abraham sends out his servant to search for a bride for his son. Presumably this would have been his servant Eliezer of Damascus. He was sent back to the land of Abraham’s family to find a suitable bride for his son, Isaac. As we know, God brought success to Eliezer. When Rebecca demonstrated godly character and a servant’s heart, he knew that God had heard his prayer and he had found the perfect wife for Isaac. Eliezer then acted on behalf of his master and began the engagement process. How does this work?
In the Scriptures and in early Jewish writings, there is a concept of an agent acting on behalf of another as his full representative, his emissary. He has full authority to act on behalf of his sender. This person is called a shaliach. Shaliach means a “sent one.” Therefore, one who is sent to represent another person is a shaliach. When people refer to a shaliach today, most people have in mind the emissaries of the Chabad Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, of blessed memory. The Rebbe started sending out shlichim (or shluchim as they are called among Chabadniks) in the 1950’s to remote Jewish locations throughout the world. Their job was to assist these communities in their religious needs, making it easier for them to live a Torah-centered life. These shluchim all agree that they are not simply doing their own thing. They are an extension of the Rebbe, and work to ensure they are representing him in all they do.
Eliezer of Damascus was not a Chabadnik. He was a shaliach of Abraham. And because he was a shaliach, he was entirely absorbed with doing the will of his master. Our parashah emphasizes this point by obscuring his identity. Rather than simply telling us that he was Eliezer, it says that he was Abraham’s “servant, the elder of his house, who ruled over all that was his” (Genesis 24:2). And when he speaks to Laban, he emphasizes that his will has completely been nullified by refusing to personally identify himself. He simply says, “I am Abraham's servant” (Genesis 24:34).
A shaliach’s purpose and identity is not his own. His job is to represent his master. Too often we fall into the trap of seeking our own recognition. Yeshua is an example of a shaliach who perfectly represented the One who sent him. Yeshua told his accusers:
Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of his own accord, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, that the Son does likewise. (John 5:19)
Yeshua was his Father’s shaliach. He chose twelve shlichim to represent him to the world by teaching others what he had taught them. They, in turn, made other shlichim. Those of us who are disciples of Yeshua today are in some way shlichim as well. We are supposed to be representing Yeshua to the world.
Eliezer represented his master, Abraham, and by extension his master’s son, Isaac. He was not the bridegroom. Yet he acted on Isaac’s behalf. In reference to Yeshua, John the Immerser said, “The one who has the bride is the bridegroom. The friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice. Therefore this joy of mine is now complete. He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:29–30). Eliezer understood his mission. John understood his. Do we understand ours? Sometimes we find our true identity in anonymity. When people look at us do they see us, or do they see our Master, Yeshua?
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