The Resident Alien

 

Chaye Sarah

Gen. 23:1-25:18

 

Précis: The parasha begins with the counting the days of the life of Sarah (Chaye Sarah) and with her death. It continues with a detailed description of the purchase of the cave of Machpela by Abraham for a family burial site. Abraham orders his servant to go to Abraham’s ancestral home to obtain a wife for Isaac, and after a series of fulfilled signs, the servant finds Rebecca. Rebecca returns with the servant; she and Isaac meet, fall in love at first sight, and become man and wife. The parasha ends with the death of Abraham, and his burial by Isaac and Ishmael in the family plot.

 

Gen. 23:1-2 “And the life of Sarah was a hundred and seven and twenty years; these were the days of the life of Sarah. Abraham arose from beside his dead, and spoke to the Hittites, saying, ‘I am a resident alien among you; sell me a burial site.’”     

 

            Rabbi Dan Moskovitz (10 Minutes of Torah, 1/18/19) focuses on one particular phrase in this week’s reading: the term ger v’toshav, or “resident foreigner.”

            What does a “resident alien” really mean? Our tradition suggests it is an individual with a special status, living permanently among​​ ​us, but without actual citizenship. The resident alien had all of the protections of law, but was exempt from most citizenship requirements.  In other words, a ger toshav was a protected visitor and honored guest.

            Thirty-six times in Torah, we are commanded to “love the stranger.” In this parashah, Abraham is not presented as the powerful, wealthy businessman he was nor as a man who regularly talked with God. Instead, he is presented as a helpless stranger. The Hittites violate their own law against selling land to outsiders like Abraham. Why? Moskowitz suggests that it was because they saw themselves in his shoes, and they imagined their own dead lying at their feet.

            History in general, and Jewish history in particular, is replete with experiences of being the outsider who does not fit into society. Indeed, in the Islamic world, Jews were regarded as second-class citizens, even though usually recognized as “people of the Book,” before they were expelled from most of those lands. In Christian Europe, Jews rarely if ever were granted citizenship prior to the late 18^th century of the common era. So, the Torah commands us to see to the welfare of the stranger among us, and our history reminds us that it is a personal obligation.

            Today, with millions of refugees from famine, war, disease, and climate change, it seems time for us to recommit to the Jewish demand that we see to the needs of the resident aliens among us, and welcome the stranger into our midst.

Faith and Uncertainty

Vayera

Gen. 18:1-22:24         

 

Précis: God “appeared” (vayera) to Abraham in the form of three travelers to whom Abraham shows hospitality. They promise the birth of Isaac, overheard by Sarah (who laughs). God reveals His plans for the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, and Abraham argues for its salvation for the sake of any innocents who might dwell there. The scene shifts to Sodom where Lot lives, and he and his family are rescued first from an unruly mob and then from the destruction of the city itself. Lot’s wife glances back and turns into the pillar of salt. His daughters, fearing that they are the last females alive, make Lot drunk and engage in sexual relations with him, later giving birth to founders of the tribes of Moab and Ammon (traditional adversaries of the Israelites).

Back with Abraham, Sarah conceives and gives birth to Isaac. She becomes unhappy with the continued presence of Ishmael and prevails upon Abraham to expel Ishmael and Hagar from the household, which he does (after being promised by God that Ishmael, too, will be the father of a great nation). Thereafter, the story continues with the attempted sacrifice of Isaac by Abraham, called “the Akedah” (the Binding of Isaac).

 

Gen. 22 1-12 “Sometime later God tested Abraham. He said to him, ‘Abraham!’ ‘Here I am,’ he replied. Then God said, ‘Take your son, your only son, whom you love—Isaac—and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on a mountain I will show you’…. Isaac spoke up and said to his father Abraham, ‘Father?’ ‘Yes, my son?’ Abraham replied. ‘The fire and wood are here,’ Isaac said, ‘but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?’ Abraham answered, ‘God will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son.’ And the two of them went on together… Abraham built an altar there and arranged the wood on it. He bound his son Isaac and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood. Then he reached out his hand and took the knife to slay his son. But the angel of the Lord called out to him from heaven, ‘Abraham! Abraham!’ ‘Here I am,’ he replied. ‘Do not lay a hand on the boy,’ he said. ‘Do not do anything to him. Now I know that you fear God, because you have not withheld from Me your son, your only son.’”

 

The Akeda is perhaps the most difficult story to understand. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, writing in Covenant and Conversation (11/13/19) notes that the traditional interpretations fall a bit short.

            The Torah regards child sacrifice as one of the worst of evils. Yet the text implies he is being asked to do that deed. If the “trial” was really about his willingness to sacrifice Isaac, then our Tradition would have been no better than those of the pagans who regularly engaged in this practice.
            Sacks notes that the name Abram means “mighty father.” A model father does not sacrifice his child. He argues that while it tested Abraham’s faith to the limit, it was really about something else.
            First he notes a disconnect between God’s promises and what actually transpires. Abraham is promised the land on seven different occasions, and yet when his wife dies, he must purchase burial property. He dwells in the Land, and yet is forced to flee to Egypt to escape famine, endangering his wife along the way. Sacks sees a pattern emerging: there is a long and winding road between God's promise and fulfilment. God does keep His word, but Abraham and his descendants have lots to do to perform their side of the Covenant: create a sacred society, abandon idolatry, accept a revolutionary and demanding code of conduct. God will bring about everything He promised, but not immediately.

            God promises Abraham on four occasions that his descendants would be a great nation. Yet his son Ishmael is not an acceptable heir. Against this background of multiple promises of children, Abraham is commanded to sacrifice Isaac.          

            Sacks says that the trial was not to see whether Abraham had the strength to give up something that he loved, which he had previously done (leaving his country and father’s home, giving up his son Ishmael). Could Abraham live with the clear contradiction between God's promises and His demand? This was the test: could Abraham live with uncertainty, and until it was over, Abraham did not know how it would turn out.
            So, this was not a test of faith as we commonly believe: it was a test of whether one can have faith in the face of uncertainty. As Sacks states, “Abraham taught us that faith is not certainty; it is the courage to live with uncertainty.”  We live lives of uncertainty. Can we have the courage to accept this fact?