The bulk of the sedrah relates, in great detail, the matrimonial efforts of Abraham and his servant Eliezer on behalf of Yitzchak, beginning with Abraham’s initial concern and ending with the ultimate union of Yitzchak and Rivkah. There are a number of very noteworthy points emerging from the incidents, a few of which I would like to touch upon.
To begin with a lighter note, we observe the importance that Abraham places on the “family” of the girl that is to marry Yitzchak. This, of course, can readily be dismissed as the old custom of families, rather than the prospective spouses, choosing each other. Paradoxically, modern thinking is quite deterministic: the individual is shaped by his unalterable biology and acquired environmental characteristics. Yet, in practice, we think of each other as totally autonomous, almost self-made, beings. A “progressive” and “sophisticated” boy or girl would not dare consider “family background” in their quest for a mate, each person must be considered only “for what they (apparently) are.” The two attidues are not quite congruous. From a practical point of view, no one has yet proven that the modern methods are more successful than the old!
A much more serious question is raised by Abraham’s insistence that the girl be “from his land and his birthplace” and under no circumstances of local Canaanite origin. After all, we do not find Laban or Bethuel to be of such exemplary and upright character, what made them worthier “machuttanim” for Abraham than his local neighbors? Kli Yokor raises the question and comes up with a plausible answer: The Canaanites were ethically and morally corrupted while the Charanites were only idolatrous - culturally primitive. He adds one astringent note by describing the Canaanite moral debilities as inheritable, while considering idolatry to be merely intellectual immaturity. Ramban, while not asking this particular question, nevertheless takes it for granted that the seed of Abraham would not marry anyone but a Shemite. In the Kuzari, Yehuda HaLevi traces human development from Adam through Shem to Yaakov and arrives at what can be called an evolutionary theory that explains the “prophetic excellence” of the Jewish people. Yehuda Ha Levi neatly disposes of one half of the problem of Jewish identity, i.e., how the faithless Jew still remains a Jew: He is a species, a breed. On the other hand, the Kuzari is plagued by the convert - any biological theory of nationhood finds it difficult to accommodate the naturalized citizen. The Kabbalah resolves this problem by identifying the proselyte as a lost Jewish soul that is returning to its source.
What all this adds up to is a bio-genetical interpretation of Jewish “chosenness.” Of course, at this cultural moment it is taboo to speak of races and certainly we Jews would like to bury the concept irretrievably in view of our enormous suffering from the consequences of racist theories. Nevertheless, it is difficult to escape the conclusion that our tradition does assume genetically inheritable group characteristics, be it is positive traits of Jews or negative traits of certain umot haolam, like the Canaanites, Amalekites, Moabites, etc. No matter how much we rationalize the “Chosen People” thesis, it winds up in our traditional sources to be more than a mere “faith community.” While recognizing the bio-genetical interpretation as not being an indisputable dogma of Judaism and in full awareness of its impalatable nature, we can nevertheless not dismiss it summarily.
Gordon Allport writes in The Individual and His Religion: “The time is fast approaching, however, when psychologists who have banked so heavily on the forces of environment in fashioning personality will have to devote an equivalent amount of energy to the study of the inborn climate of personality.” Psychological research and experimentation is turning more and more towards understanding the genetic factors in personality; if genetics does play a larger role than conceded earlier, then the possibility of inherited group characteristics is no longer that remote.
Another preeminent point in the “shaddchon” story of Chayah Sarah is the singling out of compassion as the definitive trait of the Jewish life pattern. Perhaps it took a stranger, a slave to Abraham, to appreciate fully this central theme of Judaism. Man’s highest mystical experience of Dveikut - clinging unto God - is depicted in the Talmud as imitatio dei of His compassion. “You shall cling unto his attributes - as He is compassionate so you be compassionate...” Two of the assumed characteristics of the Jews are rachmanin and gomlei chassadim - people of compassion and performers of kind deeds. The criteria of choice by which Rivkah was selected to become Yitzchak’s bride was her responsiveness to the needs of others and her compassion even for the dumb animal. Why were the camel so important? Why such an emphasis on Rivkah’s concern for the animals?
The existential compassion demanded by the God of Israel is more than the psychological phenomena of sympathy and empathy; it is a relational concern which transcends the self and is totally directed to the totally other. The compassionate individual cares, not because he is like or identifies with or feels with, but because he cares for the other in his singular otherness “As He is compassionate, so you be compassionate.” The compassion of God, the Eternal, the Infinite is directed towards totally other, created, mortal, destructible beings. “And His mercies are upon all His creatures” says the Psalmist. Our compassion must reach out generously to others even the very other dumb animal. True compassion and true tolerance must be closely related. Full acceptance of otherness opens up the road to God; full commitment to God opens up the heart to others. Rivkah displayed this compassion even prior to her “conversion” is the household of Abraham It can, therefore, be a pre-religious quality of man. A truly religious person must be compassionate, a truly compassionate person will eventually become religious. It is our Tzelem Elohim, our God likeness, which enables us to be like God.
Conversely, anti-God and cruelty are concomitant. Amalek is severly reprimanded and destined for extinction because “. . . he smote the stragglers, all that were feeble behind you, when you were faint and weary, and he feared not God.” God orientation leads to compassion; human self-centeredness and narcissistic self-indulgence lead to cruelty. It is not coincidental that Nietzsche, who claimed to sound the death-knell of God, also proclaimed Judaic ethics to be slave morality, and the subsequent exaggeration of Nietzsche human self-centeredness eventually served as the intellectual foundation of a perversion which cost us six million souls.
It is sad and unforgiveable that our established institutions of learning and worship that exert so much energy and spend so much time on admittedly important ritual aspects of Judaism neglect the teaching of and emphasis on compassion -- the password of Jewish existence.
Rabbi Joseph Grunblatt is rabbi of Queens Jewish Center in Forest Hills, New York, and a member of Yavneh’s Advisory Board.
YAVNEH STUDIES IN PARASHAT HASHAVUA, edited by Joel B. Wolowelsky, was a 1969-72 project of YAVNEH: THE RELIGIOUS JEWISH STUDENTS ASSOCIATION. The bios here are as they were at the time of the original publication. For a history of YAVNEH, see Benny Kraut, The Greening of American Orthodox Judaism: Yavneh in the 1960s (Cincinnti: Hebrew Union College Press, 2011).