Chayei Sarah: My Name is Not Eliezer

Around the synagogue, you'll sometimes hear me say, "Why ruin a perfectly good question... by trying to answer it." I use that a lot in my Bible class, it makes its way into sermons and discussions on Shabbat, and surprisingly, I find myself saying it in other contexts as well. So what does it mean? Well, pretty  

much exactly what it sounds like. To me, questions are MUCH more interesting than answers. Questions make you think, make you wonder; they may even open your eyes to new possibilities, new avenues of consideration. Answers end discussions. They produce finality: "Ah, now I get it. Oh well. Let's move on to something else." Questions force you to stay, to grapple, to ponder. And sometimes I really don't want to lose that wonderful wrestling match, that delicious enigma, by trying to offer a simple and conclusive answer. Exhibit A: Our Torah portion this week tells a lengthy story about Abraham's servant, but NEVER gives the guy a name. In fact, it goes out of its way NOT to name him, even though he is clearly the protagonist in our story. Why? Ok, I'll tell you why. Here's the answer:

Nope! Fooled you. No answer here. Come on, people! What did I JUST finish saying?!? Now, mind you, there is no shortage of OTHER Torah commentators who will answer this question for you. They will tell you 

that his name is Eliezer, because we see elsewhere in Genesis that Abraham had a servant by that name. They will tell you that it isn't necessary, because it's assumed. Or maybe it's irrelevant. But I purposely don't want to turn to such easy, simple, straight-forward answers. Let us, for just a few moments, sit with the discomfort of simply not knowing. I feel we MUST stop and acknowledge that the text of the Torah purposely creates awkward sentences, bends over backwards, and goes out of its way to leave this servant unnamed. Why would we ruin that by simply calling him "Eliezer," or shrugging our shoulders and saying "Who cares?" I care. And, if you're still reading this, I suppose you do as well.

I imagine - though I'm not certainly not positing a conclusive answer - that the Torah text is trying to deemphasize his role in this saga. The servant is an instrument, a tool, 

a vehicle for delivering a message from God. Abraham sends him to find a wife for his son, Isaac, and God directs his path. Perhaps if we named him, we would also want to give him credit for his incredibly successful mission? And the text is trying to suggest this was all pre-ordained. Rebecca was destined to marry Isaac, she just needed to be located, be made aware of her fate, and be brought to her intended... and "Someone" made all that happen. P.s. it's God, NOT the human in the story...

But this all could have happened in many, many other ways. Why the need for an anonymous character, and why be so EMPHATIC about his anonymity? Again, I don't want to answer this question. I want us all to consider it, to ruminate on it. Are you and I 'the servant'? Should we be 

viewing ourselves as vehicles of God, working to make the world a better place on behalf of the Almighty? Is it meant to remind us of the Unseen Hand of God that permeates all our lives? Or at the very least, all the stories of the Bible? Perhaps we can read this as telling us to look for God in unexpected places, to see the Divine in the people around us, because anyone and everyone COULD be a Messenger of God. They just don't know it themselves. Maybe. Or maybe you have your own suggestion, and perhaps you can share it with me? Just remember, we aren't looking for The Answer. We aren't searching for solutions. That would ruin this perfectly wonderful question. And I know that would make our friend, the servant, "Eliezer" very unhappy.

Photos in this blog post:
1. CC image courtesy of Martorell on Wikimedia Commons
2. CC image courtesy of File Upload Bot (99of9) on Wikimedia Commons
3. CC image courtesy of Unipro on Wikimedia Commons
4. CC image courtesy of Dellex on Wikimedia Commons