Chaye Sarah: Bashert
This Shabbath is the yahrzeit for my mother , the anniversary of her death. It is a day when I remember the reality she made for me. She gave me my life. She was perhaps the most important influence on how I see the world. She believed in Bashert: the idea that events are fated.
There is a Judaism that comes from books and Rabbis. (In its extreme form, it is the practice that comes from Art Scroll.) Then there is the Judaism that comes from watching and listening to parents: The folk customs and view of how the world works. In Mishlei it says:
שְׁמַ֣ע בְּ֭נִי מוּסַ֣ר אָבִ֑יךָ וְאַל־תִּ֝טֹּ֗שׁ תּוֹרַ֥ת אִמֶּֽךָ׃
My son, heed the discipline of your father,
And do not forsake the instruction of your mother;
The Malbim comments:
התורה שתלמד אותך אמך, או ר"ל תורת הכנסיה בכללה שהיא האם הכוללת, אל תטוש, כי יש לה יסוד במוסר ובדעת:
do not forsake the teaching that your mother teaches you. Or perhaps, “your mother” refers to the teaching of the community as a whole, which is the universal mother. Do not forsake it, for it has a foundation in mussar (discipline and knowledge).
A Jewish culture evolved in shtetlach in Poland. I, as the son of Holocaust survivors, grew up in its ashen remnants of that destroyed world. I grew up with folk traditions like bashert. I have a visceral sense of bashert. Bashert is not a strong force that makes things happen. You recognize the coincidences and declare they are bashert. The fact that my mother’s yahrzeit falls on parshath Chaye Sara is bashert.
The Sarah of the Torah was the archetypal mother. We refer to her as Sarah Emanu, Sarah our mother. How can I not be thinking of my own mother when I read about Sarah?
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The parsha opens with the death of Sarah. This is the anniversary of my mother’s death. That generates an eerie, but not unpleasant, feeling. The haftarah which is about Bathsheva protecting her son, Shlomo. It is as if my mother is giving me a gentle poke from the hereafter. There is nothing more bashert than that.
The connections between the parsha and the events that transpired after my mother’s death are haunting.
Years before she died, my mother had bought a plot in the Eretz Hachaim cemetery in Israel. Despite the availability of that plot, when my mother died, there was some discussion in the family about the most appropriate burial site. Some thought that burial in New Jersey, among her landsmen, people from the area around Bialistock, Poland would be more accessible.. At that time most of the family lived in the Northeast US. They thought that the convenience of a Northeastern American location would make it more likely for relatives to visit the grave. I thought a destination grave in Israel would be better. There is a parsha relationship.
The second verse in the parsha poses some questions
וַתָּ֣מׇת שָׂרָ֗ה בְּקִרְיַ֥ת אַרְבַּ֛ע הִ֥וא חֶבְר֖וֹן בְּאֶ֣רֶץ כְּנָ֑עַן וַיָּבֹא֙ אַבְרָהָ֔ם לִסְפֹּ֥ד לְשָׂרָ֖ה וְלִבְכֹּתָֽהּ׃
Sarah died in Kiriath-arba—now Hebron—in the land of Canaan; and Abraham proceeded to mourn for Sarah and to bewail her.
Why did Abraham need to travel (he had last been located in Be’er Sheva)? Many answers are offered, but the Toldoth Yitzchok (quoting his brother R, Ephrain Karo) has a very appealing answer.
According to the Toledoth Yizchak, Sarah’s residence in Hebron had been planned by Abraham and Sara together:
כונת אברהם היתה מתחלה להקבר הוא ואשתו בארץ כנען,
ולפיכך כשהרגישה בעצמה אפיסת הכחות ויתרון החולשה, וידעה שלא תאריך ימים, צותה שיוליכוה לחברון למות שם... לפי שהיא בארץ כנען.
Abraham’s intention from the beginning was for him and his wife to be buried in the land of Canaan … Therefore, when she (Sarah) felt that … she would not live much longer, she commanded [her servants] to bring her to Hebron to die… since it is in the land of Canaan.
מבאר שבע שהיא ארץ פלשתים ואינה ארץ כנען, לא קנה אברהם אחוזת קבר, שבבאר שבע אינו רוצה להקבר,
And thus “Abraham came” from Beersheba, which was in the land of the Philistines and not the land of Canaan.
This idea of a destination burial plot may have been anticipated by Abraham and Sarah. If Sarah died in Hebron, it would make it easier to bury her there, it would be more sensible. There is always an case for burying a person near the place of death. This also explains why the verse states the obvious
בְּקִרְיַ֥ת אַרְבַּ֛ע הִ֥וא חֶבְר֖וֹן בְּאֶ֣רֶץ כְּנָ֑עַן
Sarah died in Kiriath-arba—which is Hebron—in the land of Canaan;
We knew that Hevron was in Canaan. The verse points out the significance. Sara was to be buried in Canaan, not in the land of the Pelishtim, not in Be’er Sheva.
There is more…
My mother had paid for her internment in a cemetery near Beit Shemesh. When the time came for her to use the plot she had purchased, the undertaker offered to buy us out, pay more than we had put down for the plot. The offer of money became a consideration.
In the parsha Abraham paid the inflated price that Efron the Hitite asked for the burial plot. Abraham was willing to overpay for the stake in the Holy land. I learned from his example. It cost more to bury my mother in Israel. It was worth it.
Abraham underwent ten trials (Pirkei Avot 5:4) Raneinu Yonah (of Gerona) lists the burial of Sarah as the tenth test. Bringing my mother to Israel was a test for me. El Al bumped us off the plane. There was a group led by a Cohen. He threatened to remove his group if there was a corpse on the plane. Cohanim are not permitted to be in the same space as a corpse.
Most flights to Israel probably have Cohanim. I called Rabbi Kletenik for advice. He pointed out that the container made for transporting the corpse was constructed so that the tumah, the ritual impurity, is insulated from the surroundings and there was no problem for a Cohen to fly in a plane that transports a corpse to Israel. Misplaced zeal won over halacha and I was bumped to a later flight on another airline. It was an adventure. It was a trial.
I sat shiva for a few days in Israel. When I came back to Florida, my sisters had opened my mother’s safe deposit box. It contained one note that said: “Bury me in Israel.” There was no discussion about where my father would be buried. I plan to visit them both in a couple of weeks when we go to Israel.
During these weeks, when we read the stories of the Patriarchs, the fundamental question is why? Why have these stories been preserved so carefully in very expensive, constantly corrected, parchment scrolls? The phrase Maase Avoth Siman Lebanim is often invoked. It means that the actions of the ancestors are a sign for their descendants.
The phrase Maase Avoth simon lebanim does not appear until the 17th century. The Maharsha quotes the phrase, so it must have been in use at the time, but by quoting it, there is an implication that it may have been older.
The concept can be traced to the Talmud Yerushalmi (4th century)
אמר ר׳ יהושע דסכנין בשם ר׳ לוי: סימן מסר הקב״ה לאברהם, שכל מה שאירע לו אירע לבניו
“Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin said in the name of Rabbi Levi: The Holy One, blessed be He, transmitted a sign to Abraham: Everything that happened to him happened to his descendants.”
This is quoted by Ramban (13th Century). But the phrase itself מעשה אבות סימן לבנים does not appear in print until much late, . actually about the same time that bashert appears in the Yiddish literature.
The meanings of מעשה אבות סימן לבנים (Ma'aseh avot siman lebanim)and bashert are somewhat fluid. We do not believe in destiny. Although it is a point of contention, Rabbi Yochanan says: אין מזל לישראל , (Ein mazal leYisrael ) Israel is not under the influence of the constellations. We are not subject to arbitrary fate. But we do believe in the wisdom of the ancestors and that we should learn from their examples. That is why we preserve the stories.
When my mother died, I saw this principle in action. Looking at the stories, looking at how our ancestors behaved taught me what to do and gave me the courage to do it. When it was all over, I recognized that it was bashert. Every year, the parsha and the haftorah remind me.