OzTorah

The burial of Sarah, by Gustave Dore

Human experience might prefer the second reading, but whichever way we take the Midrash the really important question is probably why the criteria chosen are beauty and innocence. The answer seems to be implied in the famous 31st chapter of Proverbs, Eshet Chayil, which mentions beauty but argues that being God-fearing is more praiseworthy. It could be that King Solomon, no stranger to the question of what makes a woman attractive, recognised that beauty is basically a gift from God but good character is the result of one’s own efforts.

Sarah had good reason to thank God for being made beautiful and for retaining her beauty, but God had good reason to thank her for being sinless.

Q. Did Shakespeare really write his plays?

A. I was tempted to say, “How should I know?” – and to add that this isn’t a question for a rabbi. Then I decided that it is part of a problem that has plagued Jews and Judaism for centuries. Put simply, the problem is, “Are things always what they seem?”

Satan hauls Job up before God and says the supposed righteous man is only a fair-weather tzaddik. God Himself doesn’t get off scot-free since long before Job, Abraham wonders if the Judge of all the earth isn’t really rather unjust. Solomon is accused of lending his name to various books which were only included in the scriptures because of his supposed authorship.

Shakespeare’s plays were, some say, really by Christopher Marlowe (I don’t know whether it makes it better or worse to hear some Jews say that Marlowe was really Jewish). A famous cantor was really a womaniser. It goes on and on. Then come the revisionists: the Jews are an inferior race, there never was a Jewish Temple in Jerusalem, there wasn’t a Holocaust, the Zionists plotted 9/11. The Jews and Israel suffer constantly from propagandist distorters who peddle their stuff all over the world and so many people believe them.

Did Shakespeare write his plays? Are things what they seem? An educated generation should look into the facts for themselves, and not listen to those who say, “Don’t confuse me with the facts – my mind’s made up!”

Q. Are the Biblical laws about leprosy in a house still relevant?

A. Yes, but only if you take them metaphorically. There is a well known interpretation that reads m’tzora, “a leper”, as motzi ra, “one who utters evil talk”. A scandal monger brings suffering upon others (both those who hear his words and those he talks about) – but also upon himself and his own house. A family that indulges in evil talk harms the whole neighbourhood and the whole of society.

The Talmud (Arachin 16a) gives a number of explanations of these laws and suggests that “leprosy” in a house is caused by meanness. If you are mean and thoughtless towards your neighbour then both your house and his are losers. The Talmud also says, at the end of tractate Sukkah, “Woe to the wicked and woe to his neighbour – but when someone is good and generous, it is good to be his neighbour”.

The story of the Akedah, the Binding of Isaac (Gen. 22), begins, “After these things, God tested Abraham”, i.e. God sought to ascertain whether Abraham really believed in Him and could be trusted with a Divine mission. A necessary test? How could it be, when God already knows everything?

Many of the classical commentators explain that it was not God Himself, but Abraham, who needed to find out the extent of his obedience when asked to do something so difficult that other people would have refused. Maimonides (Guide to the Perplexed 3:24) says that the important thing is not just Abraham’s obedience but his motivation. In other circumstances a person – even Abraham – might obey out of fear of punishment; but here there was no other possibility than sheer love of God.

Maimonides also speaks about God’s motivation. Implicit in the words of the Divine angel, “Now I know…” (Gen.22:12) is the idea that until the Akedah God did not really know how Abraham would respond. It sounds quite inconceivable that God should lack knowledge of anything. Says Maimonides, it all depends on what you mean by “knowledge”. “To know” has more than one meaning, and God’s knowledge is not the same as ours. We and our knowledge are distinct: here am I, here is my knowledge. God and His knowledge, indeed God and all His attributes, are one and the same. The words “Now I know” do not imply that hitherto God did not know but “now My knowledge is confirmed”. Rashi suggests that God is saying, “Now I can give a reason for My love for Abraham”.

Some views suggest that hearing of Isaac’s near death gave Sarah a shock which proved fatal. She had not known of God’s call to Abraham and only heard of the whole course of events after they were over and after Abraham and Isaac came home.

The impact of her death is described in next week’s sidra, Chayyei Sarah, in Chapter 23 of B’reshit which tells of the death of Sarah and how Abraham mourned for her. He came lis’pod l’Sarah v’liv’kotah – “to eulogise Sarah and to weep for her”. The narrative follows a peculiar order, first the eulogy and then the weeping. It cannot possibly be that Abraham did not realise the extent of the tragedy at first and only started weeping once he had put the occasion into words.

The truth may really be quite the opposite. Abraham was genuinely torn to pieces by the death but he knew that Sarah belonged to the family, to the community, to history, and not just to him personally. He felt he had to comfort the others first and to sum her up for them before he could give way to his own individual grief.