The Pasuk (verse) says in the Parasha, and we learned a little about this yesterday, that Yitzchak brought Rivka into his mother’s tent. Then Yitzchak was consoled. Rashi says, if you remember, that when he brought Rivka into Sarah’s tent, while Sarah was alive, the ner (lamp) was lit from Shabbat to Shabbat. There was a Beracha (blessing) in the isah, in the dough. The dough remained fresh. There were no preservatives, but the dough remained fresh. When Sarah died, those miracles stopped. When Rivka came back in, the miracles came back, so he was consoled for his mother. Baruch Hashem (Blessed is Hashem), he married somebody who was equal to his mother, because the miracles had stopped. And now the lady was able to bring them.
The Siftei Chachamim is trying to explain what these three miracles represent. The Siftei Chachamim says beautifully that we know there are three mitzvot (commandments) that a lady is primarily obligated in, as we learned yesterday. We said these are Niddah (ritual separation) and Challah (dough offering). Therefore, Sarah was careful in the three mitzvot of the lady. Since she took Challah properly, there was a Beracha in a Challah, which represents a Beracha in the parnassah (livelihood) of the house. As we learned today from the Siftei Chachamim, in order to bring a Beracha into the lechem (bread), we do a mitzvah with the lechem. When I bring a Beracha into the lechem, she was careful in her mitzvah of Challah, and there was a Beracha in a Challah.
Furthermore, we said that she was careful, so her ner was daluk (lit) Me'erev Shabbat (from Friday evening), because she was meticulous. But what is the inyan (matter) of the cloud of Hashem being on top of the tent? What does that represent? It represents Kedushah (holiness), because Sarah was careful. When a person is looking to bring the Shechinah (Divine Presence) into his house, people often come to me and say, “I’m having bad luck. Could you give me a Beracha?” Really, the first question is, “Do you follow the laws of Taharat Hamishpacha (family purity laws)?” Because it’s Taharat; it’s a mishpat (law) that brings the Shechinah on top of the tent. That’s what Yisrael says. Since Sarah was obviously careful in the laws of Niddah, it brought her to Kedushah.
There is an important lesson that we learn here. When we come to a wedding, we say, “Sameach Tesamach Re'im Ahuvim (Gladden the beloved companions).” We call the couple Re'im Ahuvim. Now, Re'im is not Ahuvim, and Ahuvim is not Re'im. Re'im is friends, and Ahuvim is people who love each other. It’s a different level of connection. The Mefarshim say beautifully that sometimes in a month, it’s Re'im, and other times in a month, it’s Ahuvim. When she’s Niddah, it’s Ahuvim. When she’s not Niddah, then you’re strengthening the relationship of Re'im. It’s friends, because you cannot act like Ahuvim. Therefore, we’re saying, “Sameach Tesamach Re'im Ahuvim”: you should have Sameach, double Sameach, Sameach Tesamach. There should be Sameach when there are Re'im, and there should be Sameach also when there is Ahuvim. The challenge, really, is that when a person is unable to show affection, let’s say intimacy, the challenge is to remain good friends when you’re not able to express, let’s say, physical contact.
I saw one of the Mefarshim say something about what we say when a person gets married: “Marry me like Moshe v'Yisrael (Moses and Israel).” Isn’t every mitzvah like Moshe v'Yisrael? I mean, every mitzvah that we do, we’re doing it according to the laws of Moses and Israel. We’re not doing it according to the laws of... Why, when it comes to Kiddushin (marriage), do we all of a sudden say, “Marry me like Moshe v'Yisrael”? I saw a beautiful explanation: Moshe and Yisrael had a very, very, very roller-coaster relationship. Sometimes the relationship was very, very, very strong, and sometimes they would anger Moshe, and there was a lot between the two. But what? They never left each other. They were saying that it should be like Moshe v'Yisrael: even though the relationship will have ups and downs, at one point Moshe Rabbeinu says to Moshe, “God, these people—what they’re doing to me, they don’t stop complaining.” Another time Moshe Rabbeinu says, “If you kill them, kill me.” It went up and down. But they remained together. We recognize that in marriage, there might be ups and downs, especially in one month. It should be like Moshe v'Yisrael: there should be nothing so serious that can break the relationship.
Finally, I saw a story, just to bring this down. They say that when it comes to this, it’s referring to the children. The old grandmothers used to say a prayer by the candles on Friday night for their children. They didn’t even have a custom. Every time they had a new child, they added an extra candle to the Friday-night candles. You can go to a house and see the candles; you can tell how many children they have. What’s the explanation? Even though the children can definitely be challenging, at the end of the day, it’s the children who bring the light into the family. And therefore, we light it.
I recently heard an unbelievable story about how significant a parent is for the children. A lady went to the Mikveh (ritual bath), and after she came out of the Mikveh, she went into the waiting room and took out nail polish. She started polishing her nails. As she was polishing them, she saw that one nail wasn’t perfect. She took the acetone and cleared it again, then did it again. It didn’t come out good again. For about half an hour, she was just doing it. The attendant at the Mikveh said, “Don’t you think your husband would want you to come home instead of being so makpid (meticulous) about it? Go over to your husband.” She said, “I’m not doing this for my husband; I’m doing it for my daughter. I’m doing it for your daughter.” He says, “My daughter babysits. She saved up her money, and last week was my birthday—or a couple of days ago, yesterday was my birthday—and she took me and her for manicures. I knew I had to go to the Mikveh tonight. I knew I had to take off my nail polish, and therefore I know that if I come home without my nails, she’s going to say, ‘Mom, we went to the...’ So when we were at the manicure yesterday, while she wasn’t looking, I bought the same exact nail polish, a second bottle, so that she shouldn’t know that I went to the Mikveh, and she shouldn’t think that I wiped it off the next day.” I’m kidding, guys. “I’m not doing it for my husband; I’m doing it for my daughter.” That’s the Mesirut Nefesh (self-sacrifice), that obviously the Jewish parents have for their children.