Chayei Sarah: It's Time to Water Some Camels

My, my, what a week we have had. It seems like a LONG time ago that I last wrote a post, even though it has only been seven days. The world looks different on the

other side of the tragic attack on Congregation Tree of Life in Pittsburgh. According to the ADL, this was the deadliest assault on the Jewish community in America's history. So now what? How do we make sense of what is happening in our country; the proliferation of guns without serious regulation, the increasingly racist rhetoric that is not denounced at the highest levels of government, and a divisive national discourse where each side sees the other as The Enemy, jeopardizing the future of our way of life? What do we do now? Honestly, I do not hold answers. I don't know either. I simply offer a few thoughts.

There is a strong Jewish tradition of looking to our heritage and our texts, when we are otherwise at a loss for words. Again, not for answers - at least not of the "yes" or "no" variety - but to see how others handled adversity and challenge in the past,
to give us strength and courage to face our own predicaments today. Our parashah is all about one, long journey. Abraham sends a servant to find a wife for his son, Isaac, because he doesn't want Isaac to marry one of the idolatrous Canaanites living around them. When the servant arrives in Abraham's home town, a young woman by a well offers him a drink of water. Then, she also rushes to water the servant's many camels, which (if you know anything about camels...) is actually an exhaustive task!! (P.s. ONE camel can drink 53 gallons of water in three minutes!!!) The servant realizes this girl, Rebecca, is the one he's looking for, and he convinces her family to let her return to Canaan to marry Isaac. Sooo, why am I telling you all this?

This isn't spelled out in the text, but I think Rebecca desperately wanted to leave. Her brother, Laban, was the head of her household, and he was kind of a scoundrel. Many things in the text hint at her desire to flee, and she was able to achieve this through acts of genuine kindness and consideration. She took

great care of this traveler, when she had NO obligation to do so for a stranger, an outsider, a servant. In the context of our lives today, I suggest that we learn from Rebecca's example that if we want to affect REAL change, we have to do so with REAL acts of altruism for other people. This can be counter-intuitive. When we feel scared and attacked, something inside us wants to just curl up or bolt the door; care for our own and abandon any project that was for someone else's benefit. But we must RESIST that urge!! Now is precisely the time to care for the poor, the orphan, and the widow in our society; perhaps today we might extend those same kindnesses to the refugees, the undocumented immigrants, the Muslims, the LGBTQ (and perhaps most specifically the transgender community), African-Americans, and all others who face oppression. Our heads may say we need to care for our own... but our hearts know the answer lies in the exact opposite behavior.

Our Torah portion ends with an inconspicuous scene, easily missed if one isn't reading carefully. After Abraham dies, his sons come together to bury their father (Gen. 25:9). Seems simple enough, right? But Ishmael was banished YEARS earlier, together with his mother, Hagar! Somewhere along the way, Ishmael and Isaac reunited, and they were able to share this precious moment of togetherness
and peace with their father. The text doesn't tell us when, but here we see the fruits of their labor. And the proof is in a tangible, physical, lasting act that they perform as one; the burying of a loved one. We are often tempted to offer condolences, a hug, a word of support, a tear, or a demonstrative gesture of solidarity. That is not enough. It is greatly appreciated, but more is needed. This situation is too urgent, the stakes too high. A simple, subtle gesture won't suffice. We need to act. We need to extend ourselves beyond what is comfortable, as Rebecca did watering all those thirsty camels. Our actions will speak volumes beyond mere words, and now more than ever before, we Jews must unite with others in our shared community and work to manifest the change we so desperately need. The ADL used to employ a powerful slogan, "Never Again!" Right now, on their website, they have shifted to something even more crucial, directed at each and every one of us: "Never is Now."


Images in this blog post:
1. Image from Tree of Life * Or L'Simchah Congregation
2. CC image courtesy of pxhere.com
3. CC image courtesy of Stemya on pixabay.com
4. CC image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons