Parashat Hayeh-Sarah tells two stories: the story of Avraham’s purchase of Me’arat Ha’machpelah as the burial site of his wife, Sarah, and the story of the search of a wife for Avraham’s son, Yitzchak. In other words, we might say, this parashah discusses two topics: death and burial, and marriage.
When we look at our Sages’ commentary to this parashah in the Talmud, we find a most remarkable – and peculiar – irony.
One of the most basic and important laws relevant to a Jewish wedding is extracted from Parashat Hayeh-Sarah. That law, known as קידושי כסף, has to do with the way a couple becomes legally married, namely, through the transfer of an object of value. When the groom gives the bride something that has value – traditionally, of course, a ring is used for this purpose – she then becomes his wife with respect to certain aspects of marriage. The way a woman is transformed from an ordinary woman to a woman designated for a specific man is through קידושי כסף, the transfer of an object of value from the groom to the bride.
The Sages of the Talmud inferred this concept – that a woman is betrothed in this manner – from Parashat Hayeh-Sarah. If we would have to guess from where in this parashah the inference is made, we would naturally point to the story of Rivkah’s selection as Yitzhak’s bride. This is perhaps the most famous marriage story in the Torah, so it would not surprise us at all to learn that the traditional wedding ceremony is rooted in this incident.
Astonishingly, however, this is not the case. The source of the concept of קידושי כסף, surprisingly enough, is not the second story in Parashat Hayeh-Sarah, but rather the first story – the story of Avraham’s purchase of a burial site. The Rabbis of the Gemara noted that the same term is used in reference to Avraham’s payment of money for Me’arat Ha’machpelah as is used much later in the Humash in reference to marriage. On this basis, they established the law of קידושי כסף.
It might be tempting to crack some callous jokes, but in all seriousness, is it not peculiar that the most fundamental law of Jewish weddings is derived from Avraham’s purchase of a graveyard for the burial of his wife?
הנעלבים ואינם עולבים
Two sisters, who grew up in a non-Jewish family, at one point discovered Judaism and decided to convert. They became fully observant Jews, and moved to Israel. Unfortunately, their lives were considerably harder than they anticipated. They found it difficult to blend into their community, and they were not being offered too many marriage prospects.
The most uncomfortable day of the week for them was Shabbat, as they did not have families of their own to spend it with. They would seek invitations, and on some occasions, they found themselves eating with families that were not especially sensitive to their feelings.
On one such occasion, they were sitting at the Shabbat table when the husband turned to them and said, “My children have only known Jews their entire lives. Please, tell us about what it was like being non-Jews.”
The girls politely declined, explaining that they did not feel comfortable speaking about their past.
But the husband did not relent.
“Come on, I would really like to hear your life story.”
Again, the girls apologetically told their host that they did not want to speak about their lives before converting to Judaism. The host, disgracefully, persisted, to the point where he rudely said, “I am sharing my Shabbat food with you, and all I am asking is that you tell me your story!”
With tears in their eyes, the girls stood up, left the table, and headed towards the door. The wife ran after them and began urging them to stay, but the husband shouted, “No, let them go. If they are not doing what I ask, let them leave!”
Outside the apartment, the girls, still crying, realized that they had not recited birkat ha’mazon. They began reciting the blessing (we will not address here the question of whether this was halachically proper), and they reached the point where guests customarily recite a special prayer for their host. The girls looked at each other with exasperation, assuming that they should skip this section. Clearly, they felt, their host, who treated them so insensitively, did not deserve their prayer. But then they decided to overcome their feelings of resentment and recite the prayer. After all, as rude as the host was, he did invite them in and share his food with them. So they recited the prayer.
Several days later, the girls visited Rebbetzin Batsheva Kanievsky, and they told her this story. They wanted to know if they acted correctly.
The Rebbetzin marveled at the strength they had to overcome their feelings of pain and recite the blessing. She told them that such an action gives them special power, and they should use that power to ask Hashem for anything they wanted.
Within a year of this incident, they were both happily married.
This is just one of countless stories told of people who received great blessing after overcoming anger and resisting the urge to respond to hostility. The Gemara speaks of הנעלבים ואינם עולבים, שומעים חרפתם ואינם משיבים – “those who are insulted but do not insult, who hear their shame but do not respond.” Such people, the Gemara teaches, have unparalleled power. It is no exaggeration to say that this power exceeds even the power of prayer. So many stories have been told of people who had their wishes fulfilled after being in a situation where they were hurt but kept quiet and remained calm.
We intuitively feel that we need to be “tough,” and ensure not to let anybody get away with doing anything to us. Anytime we feel offended by an insensitive remark, or an inconsiderate action, we feel we have to fight back and get even. The Torah teaches us just the opposite. Of course, if a child is being bullied in school, or if somebody is in an abusive relationship, everything must be done to stop the bullying or abuse. But if a family member or friend on occasion says or does something hurtful, the Torah teaches us that the best course of action is to accept it and just move on. This is, of course, exceedingly difficult to do – and this is precisely why the rewards are so great. If we can overcome that fierce desire we have to fight back, to respond to hostility with hostility, we are empowered far more than we could ever imagine.
מעביר על מידותיו
This applies as well to giving in, to showing flexibility rather than insisting on getting what we feel we rightfully deserve. The Gemara teaches us that one who is מעביר על מידותיו, who gives in instead of demanding that he receives everything he deserves, is forgiven for all his sins.
I personally experienced the power of מעביר על מידותיו in my own family.
My son prepared for many months to read a section of Parashat Vayera for his bar-mitzvah at the minyan where we pray every Shabbat. However, just three weeks before his bar-mitzvah, he discovered that another boy was planning to read the same section. My son was, understandably, devastated, having invested so much time and effort into learning the reading.
I mentioned this problem to my mother, who told me I should show my son the story told in Rebbetzin Kanievsky’s biography, on page 340.
So I did.
The story was about Rebbetzin Kanievsky’s father, Rav Yosef Shalom Elyashiv. Once, when he was ill and hospitalized, a minyan was arranged for him in his room. One morning, when the Torah was to be read, the group had a Sefer Torah, but nobody knew the reading. One of the men went outside to the hallway to ask around and find somebody who could read that week’s portion, and sure enough, he found an impressive 16-year-old boy who said he could read. He joined the minyan, and read the Torah beautifully. Rav Elyashiv warmly thanked and complimented the young man for his outstanding reading.
A Rabbi in the minyan went over to the boy and his father afterward to speak with them. The father told him that the boy was very familiar with this parashah because three years earlier, he had scheduled to read this portion for his bar mitzvah. However, two days before the bar-mitzvah, he was told by the person in charge in shul that a mistake had been made, and he had arranged for somebody else to read. The boy gave in, rather than make a fight. Three years later, he had the great privilege of reading that portion for Rav Elyashiv, one of the greatest Sages of his time.
“Why are you here in the hospital?” the Rabbi asked the boy’s father.
The father explained that his wife, the boy’s mother, was ill. She had been in the hospital for weeks, and nobody could find what the problem was.
The Rabbi told him that a specialist was scheduled to come the next day to examine Rav Elyashiv, and he would arrange for this doctor to see this man’s wife, as well. Sure enough, this specialist identified the problem, and prescribed medication. The woman was released from the hospital several days later.
I told this story to my son, and he agreed to let the other boy read part of the section he had prepared. That boy’s family was very grateful, and offered to sponsor a large, beautiful sebet in the synagogue in honor of both boys.
In the long run, we always gain by giving in, by avoiding unnecessary conflict, by stopping and keeping quiet rather than persisting and getting into a fight. If we can muster the strength and resolve to remain silent, to end a fight by keeping calm, we can ask Hashem for anything. If we ever find ourselves in a position where we feel like striking back, when we are offended and very much wish to respond in kind, to express our anger, to make a fight out of it, but we restrain ourselves, we hit the jackpot. We receive incredible power, and can earn the greatest blessings.
A pasuk in the Book of Iyov describes Hashem as תולה ארץ על בלימה – “suspending the world on nothing,” referring to the fact that Hashem keeps the earth in place, without anything holding it. But in addition, the Gemara interprets this to mean that the entire world is sustained by a personשבולם את עצמו בשעת מריבה – who restrains himself during a fight. If a person controls himself when he is provoked, and stops the situation from developing into a full-fledged conflict, the entire world is sustained in his merit. Naturally, then, he is entitled to ask Hashem for everything – because at that moment, the entire world exists because of him.
The Flexible Spouse
In perhaps no other area of life is this quality as vitally important as marriage. Sure, we need to be flexible, patient and yielding in our professional lives, with our siblings, parents and children, and in our social lives, but when it comes to marriage, this assumes a whole different magnitude of importance.
Nobody means more to us than our spouse, and precisely for this reason, nobody can upset us more than our spouse. So often, when somebody feels insulted by his or her spouse, the response is something like, “What!? Do you know how many times you did ________ to me!” “You never do _______!” “You always do _________!” Should I tell you how many times you did to me what you’re complaining to me about!” As we all know all to well, such responses are never – but never – helpful. Quite the opposite. All they do is take a tense situation and make it many times worse.
Marriage is the most important relationship we will ever have, and it is likely the most fragile. In marriage, it is especially important to remain calm, to nip a fight in the bud by keeping silent, by accepting the pain without responding and inflicting pain in return. If we can restrain ourselves when we feel upset at our spouse, we will be doing ourselves the greatest favor we can ever do, preserving our most important relationship, and bringing unimaginable blessing to our home and our family.
At my son’s bar-mitzvah celebration, as the party was getting underway, a minyan for minhah was being held in the synagogue, so I went to pray, assuming that my one-year-old daughter was with my wife. Little did I know that my wife assumed that our daughter was with me.
During minhah, I heard my daughter crying outside. I naturally assumed that my wife was taking care of her, so I did not think much of it. But after a couple of minutes, I decided I needed to go outside and see what was happening. I went out, and I saw that my daughter’s fingers were caught in the hinges of the door of the synagogue. I was horrified. Apparently, she had been left alone, and she got seriously hurt. I managed to release her fingers, and to my horror, they looked badly injured. A Hatzalah member happened to be in the synagogue at that time, and he came, and called an ambulance and a local specialist.
Needless to say, there was a great deal of tension as all this was going on. We were supposed to be celebrating a beautiful family event together with our relatives and friends, but now it appeared that I or my wife would need to rush our daughter to the emergency room. With all the rapidly mounting stress and tension, I felt like saying something to my wife about how she left our daughter alone. I was so upset, aggravated, anxious and uptight, and I needed to vent. However, I managed to restrain myself, and I didn’t say anything. I reminded myself that nothing positive or beneficial at all would result from an angry outburst, or even from a brief word of criticism, so I kept quiet.
Suddenly, after about fifteen minutes of frantic activity, my daughter stopped crying. The doctor who had been examining her told us that it was highly unlikely the fingers were broken or seriously hurt if my daughter was no longer crying. He felt that she did not need to go to the hospital, and we could take her for x-rays the next day if she was still in pain. We felt that a great miracle happened.
That night, I went over to my daughter’s crib and looked at her hands. I honestly could not tell which hand it was that was hurt. All her fingers looked perfectly fine.
One of the most important keys to a happy and successful marriage is the quality of בולם את עצמו בשעת מריבה, of remaining calm and composed during moments of tension, when one feels hurt or disappointed by the other spouse. When we do this, we sustain the whole world, and so we receive great blessing and special assistance from Hashem.
Which brings us back to Avraham Avinu, and to the connection between the purchase of Me’arat Ha’machpelah and marriage.
After Sarah died, Avraham approached a man named Efron, who owned the property which Avraham wished to purchase as a burial site. Efron was crooked and wily, and initially offered Avraham the land for free, giving the impression of being generous and selfless. In truth, however, he knew Avraham was very wealthy and wanted to “take him to the cleaners,” as the expression goes. Sure enough, by the time their discussion was completed, Avraham needed to pay Efron 400 silver coins – an absurdly exorbitant sum – for a piece of land that nobody else wanted.
Avraham, despite grieving over the loss of his beloved wife and lifelong partner, kept silent. He did not complain, protest, argue or fight. He simply paid the demanded sum, rather than allowing the situation to grow into a heated conflict.
And that is what makes this story the perfect place for introducing the law of קידושי כסף, the mechanism by which a man and woman become married. We are taught that the bedrock of a solid, stable, happy and fulfilling marriage is בולם עצמו בשעת מריבה, being able to restrain oneself when he or she feels hurt by the other person. Marriage works if spouses control their anger and disappointment, if they respect each other enough to forgive, to accept, to tolerate and to yield. This is the greatest source of blessing that we can ever access.
Indeed, immediately after the story of Avraham’s purchase of Me’arat Ha’machpelah, the Torah tells us that Avraham was blessed: וה' ברך את אברהם בכל. He earned Hashem’s blessing through this special quality of quiet acceptance, of avoiding conflict through patience and indulgence.
This is the legacy that we, Avraham’s descendants, are expected to carry. And if we do, and we follow his inspiring example, then we will be worthy of the beautiful blessings promised to his heirs, and we will fill our homes and our lives with much happiness, joy and satisfaction, amen.