Getting On With Life; a Thought for Parashat Chayei Sarah

Burial of Sarah; woodcut by Gustav Dore

Many years ago, I lived in Greece, as I was stationed there during my service in the US Navy.  An unavoidable part of the visual landscape there, is the many older women who perpetually wear black.  This is the widow’s dress; when a woman has been widowed – and due to a combination of men marrying women younger than themselves, and women’s longer life expectancies, there are few widowers – she puts on black clothing and dressed in that manner for the rest of her life.  It is supposed to be a badge of honor, a visual reminder of the widow’s respected and protected status.

In this week’s Torah reading, in Parashat Chayei Sarah, Abraham buries his wife Sarah and then immediately afterward sets to the task of finding a wife for his son, Isaac.  This models the principle of paying due respect to the dead, of working through the grief one experiences from the loss, and then getting on with life.  In modern Jewish funerary practice, once widowed a man is allowed – some would say, expected – to marry again once the thirty days’ period of mourning has passed.  For a woman, it can be a bit longer; if she is capable of bearing a child, she should wait until there’s no possibility that she is pregnant by her dead husband.  That way, any child born will not face an uncertain patrimony.  The reasoning behind the allowance to re-marry quickly is that one should not have to bear life without the companionship of a wife or husband.  Whether for a spouse, a sibling or even one’s child, Jewish law mandates a 30-day period of mourning.  Then life should continue, as much as possible, in the face of the loss.  One returns to one’s business and other obligations. 

(For a parent, there are aspects of mourning that continue for a year – this out of respect for the person who gave you life and raised you to adulthood.)

There is no shortage of examples of those who cannot seem to return to a sense of normalcy after their loss.  Especially after the death of one’s child.  There is no denying that having to bury one’s offspring represents a complete overturning of the expected order of things.  I have known people who have lost a child and have never recovered, no matter how many years pass.  Even if the ‘child’ was sixty when survived by their parent.  I have learned over time that there is nothing I can say or do, to ease the pain that accompanies such a loss.  The only thing that a rabbi, or a friend or relative can do is be present for that person.

In Abraham’s case, returning to life after his loss meant seeing to the task of finding a wife for Isaac.  In this case, he delegated the task to his trusted servant Eliezer.  He dispatched the servant to Haran, the city from which he had begun his quest for Canaan, to find a wife from among his father’s relatives.

In Near Eastern cultures, it is common, and considered preferable, to marry within one’s family.  Jewish law permits marrying a first cousin.  Abraham at this point is living among idolatrous Canaanites.  Even if his family back in Haran are also idolaters, at least they are family.  Today, of course, it is unusual among most groups of Jews to marry such a close relative.  This is in recognition of the benefit of ‘widening the gene pool’ to reduce the chances of genetic disorders.

That Abraham chose to end his mourning with the specific task of finding and securing a wife for Isaac, makes it especially clear that he was making a statement about putting his life back on track in the face of his loss.  Later, once Isaac and Rivka are married, Abraham himself marries his second wife, Keturah, and has five more children.

It is important to properly mourn and pay respect to those who have gone on to the next world.  And part of the mourning process is to return to a normal life, as much as it is possible, without an undue delay.  This is an important way that we show our faith in the redeeming aspect of life.