November 18th: Chayeh Sarah
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
Sometimes, the Torah seems very ancient and far away. Other times, it is very current and applicable to our lives. In this week’s Torah portion, we have a case of what could be called a “helicopter parent.” When Abraham decides that it is time for Isaac to get married, he proceeds to make arrangements without Isaac’s participation or even agreement.
Abraham’s concerns are twofold. If he lets Isaac choose a local wife, she will not be “Jewish,” and Isaac could be drawn into the local pagan and (presumably) immoral culture. Abraham believes that his family’s relationship with God requires maintaining a holy separation from local “non-Jewish ways.” If, however, Isaac is allowed to go back to Abraham’s ancestral land, then there is a chance that he will stay, adopt Mesopotamian paganism and polytheism, and abandon the One God. Abraham therefore gives his head servant the mission of finding a wife for Isaac—and he imposes two conditions.
(1) The wife shall not be local: “Swear by the Lord, the God of heaven and the God of the earth, that you will not take a wife for my son from the daughters of the Canaanites among whom I dwell.” (Genesis 24.3)
(2) The wife shall come from Mesopotamia, but only the servant shall travel there to choose her. Isaac must stay in Canaan; Isaac must not go to Mesopotamia! “On no account shall you take my son back there!” (Genesis 24.4-6)
Abraham has faith that God will bring this plan to fruition, as he explains to his servant: “The Lord, the God of heaven, Who took me from my father’s house and from my native land, who promised me on oath, saying ‘I will assign this land to your offspring’—He will send His angel before you, and you will get a wife for my son from there.” (Genesis 24.7)
Where is Isaac while his Dad makes all these arrangements? Does Abraham overstep his bounds, or could there be another more legitimate reason? The Torah does not explain the situation, but there are some possible clues. Isaac could be overwhelmed with grief at his mother’s death. The Midrash suggests that he might have been away from home when Sarah dies. Sarah has the gift of prophecy, and, when she has a vision of her husband standing over their beloved son with a slaughtering knife, she immediately drops dead—and a temporarily relieved Isaac comes home to a deceased Mother. Another Midrash suggests that Isaac might be away “at school,” studying Torah at the Academy of Shem and Eber in Jerusalem. If he feels guilty for being away from his mother—and is thus emotionally impaired, or if he is in a very spiritual state of mind from his religious studies—and is thus uninterested in romance, perhaps Abraham feels the need to arrange the marriage and not wait for Isaac’s interest to develop.
There is also the possibility that Isaac is somehow impaired and unable to get a wife for himself. One clue is the trauma of almost being sacrificed by his father. Some read the story and see Isaac as a faithful servant of God who acquiesces to God’s command, but one could see Isaac as a vulnerable child, victimized and traumatized by his father’s blind zeal. In other words, we could be looking at an ancient case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and a consequently disabled Patriarch. Remember the hint in next week’s Torah portion, where Isaac is described as feeble—blind and unable to tell one son from the other. Is this a disability that comes later in life, or does his impairment date to his childhood?
Of course, there is also the possibility that we are reading too much into the story—that this is just the way things were done back then. Parents arranged marriages for their children, and children lived in the family compound until their parents died—then becoming the leaders of the tribe themselves. Abraham could simply be following social mores and fulfilling his parental responsibilities.
When it comes to Rebekah, we have a very different description of independence. When she meets Abraham’s servant at the community well, she is self-possessed enough to invite him to her family’s compound. The Midrash enhances this notion of her unusual maturity by concocting a scenario where she is only three years old! Already, she has the strength, piety, and good sense to be a Matriarch! When she assents to the marriage and agrees to leave immediately, we see the balaboosta that Isaac needs in his life. She is the one to carry and drive the family’s holy destiny.
The art of raising children brings all sorts of challenges and advice. Among the choices parents face is the tension between keeping children safe and encouraging independence and self-reliance. Given a sense of increased danger in the world, many parents exercise more supervision that was typical fifty or a hundred years ago. Think of little Laura Ingalls (Melissa Gilbert) walking several miles from her Little House on the Prairie to school—often all by herself. For many modern children, this is as far from reality as is conceivable. What are parents to do when their children can face both physical and psychic danger (bullying, hostility, discrimination)? Everyone deserves a safe and affirming place in which to grow, learn, and play, but who should be fighting children’s battles, themselves or their parents and teachers?
Is it possible for children to be protected too much? Could over-protection inhibit a young person’s resilience and ability to encounter difficulties? In the recent issue of Sapir Journal, Lenore Skenazy wonders about children who have been so protected from anything disagreeable that they, as young adults and college students, feel endangered by the presence of different opinions. Is a different or objectionable opinion really an assault? Does it require organizational protection? Is the inability to hear and respond to opposing viewpoints a result of life-long protection by helicopter parents and teachers? Does such protective hovering create an imposed intellectual disability that impedes the learning process and one’s functioning in a democratic society where there are lots of different opinions? Protection is clearly important, but how much is too much?
As in many Biblical tales, we can read our own agendas and opinions onto this ancient story of parental involvement in a child’s life. Does Abraham overstep his rightful parental authority in taking over Isaac’s love life? Or, is such action required and appropriate? How much help does Isaac need? At what point does too much help impede Isaac’s ability to live independently and fulfill his potential? In other words, would less help from his father be helpful? There is a lot to think about in this ancient story, and there is a lot to think about as we continue the story in our own times.