Volume 31 Issue 36 18 Nov 2022 24 Heshvan 5783

From the Head of Jewish Life

Adina Roth – Head of Jewish Life

This week’s parsha Chayei Sarah, introduces us to the very first love story in the Torah. It’s not what you might be thinking – falling in love on Bondi – but it is quite remarkable, in a 7th century BCE kind of way.

Avraham, the first father of the Jewish people, felt that it was time for his son Yitzchak to get married. He sent his trusted servant Eliezer back to Aram, his hometown, to find a nice ‘girl’ there for Yitzchak. Eliezer arrived at the well outside the town and unsure how he was going to find a wife for Yitzchak, he asked for a sign from God. Soon a young woman, Rivkah came out to the well and she offered water to Eliezer and even to his camels. Eliezer was struck by her kindness and returned to her family for dinner. At her home, Eliezer explained that he was actually on a mission to find a wife for Yitzchak and that he thought Rivkah was ‘the one’.  Rivkah’s family were understandably more circumspect explaining that Rivkah was too young. But Eliezer was determined and suggested that Rivkah be asked her opinion.

Rivkah hears about this somewhat unusual opportunity, to go to a new land, embrace the God of Avraham, and meet and marry a man whom she has never met. At this point in the story, I imagine Rivkah to be a Belle-like figure from Beauty and the Beast fame. Just as Belle sang, ‘there must be more than this provincial life,’ I imagine Rivkah feeling that her life in Aram was provincial and mundane and so she chooses a different destiny as she says ‘Elech,’ which means ‘I will go’. This is in line with her personality, for Rivkah seems to be outgoing, adventurous and optimistic. The very next day, Rivkah leaves with Eliezer and an entourage of camels.

The scene changes and we now move to Rivkah’s beau, Yitzchak. That very same day in the afternoon Yitzchak had come out into the fields to pray. Yitzchak is in a very different space to Rivkah. Recently he had experienced the near ‘Sacrifice of Isaac’ where his father had almost sacrificed him on Mount Moriah. While Yitzchak emerges physically unscathed, the Midrash, our ancient Jewish commentaries suggest that his ashes remained piled on the altar. Sensitively, the midrash picks up that Yitzchak’s near sacrifice at the hands of his father becomes a traumatic wound that accompanies him through his life. Moreover, after the Akeidah, Yitzchak’s mother Sarah dies. We can only imagine Yitzchak’s frame of mind – pensive, introverted and sad. As the sun is setting, Rivkah comes over the hills and sees a man in prayer. She asks an attendant, ‘who is that’ and she is told that it is Yitzchak. On hearing this, Rivkah fell off the seat of her camel, and she then takes a veil, ‘vatitchas et paneha,’ she covered her face.

The question is why? Why does Rivkah cover her face with a veil? Radak one of our medieval Jewish interpreters says Rivkah was meeting her husband for the first time and so out of modesty, she covered her face. Radak’s interpretation has always disturbed me because while modesty is a Jewish value, it’s not the Jewish way to cover your face for modesty. So why did Rivkah cover her face? Why the veil?

Avivah Zornberg, a modern interpreter offers a different reading of the veil. She says that  Rivkah emerges on her camel, full of excitement, anticipation and optimism. When she sees a man, her soon-to-be husband, she notices that he isn’t in the same space. He is struggling. Perhaps Rivkah didn’t take an actual veil and cover her face. Rather, perhaps symbolically she put on a veil by concealing her feelings of excitement and exuberance in order to meet Yitzchak where he was at. She toned down her exuberance in response to his sadness. That’s the great love moment; it’s empathy!

There are many moments in life where there might be a schism between our feelings and those of someone else. We might be celebrating a great triumph and we notice our spouse or child or friend or colleague is struggling with something and subdued. We might be filled with joy as we arrive to meet someone and immediately notice that they look troubled. Rivkah and her veil come to teach us a subtle mode of interacting, we need to recognise where people are at and respond accordingly, even being willing to mute our mood. This is not to say that we can’t celebrate our successes or be authentic. We just might not want to show that happiness in ALL its glory at the very moment when the person next to us is suffering.

After Rivkah and Yitzchak meet, the chapter ends by saying Yitzchak married Rivkah and that he loved her and he found comfort in her after the death of his mother.

Love is certainly not as simple as a Netflix rom-com, even if they’re great to watch. Love starts with really connecting with another person.

We can learn from this story that true, deep love, be it in friendship, relationship, or any…ship….starts with empathy. Not bad for a love story from 7th century BCE!

 

Shabbat Shalom