Because of the Covid-19 pandemic, the city of Hebron will be quieter this weekend than in years past, hopefully with less violence and unrest. Every year, when we read Parshat Chayei Sarah, my mind turns to Hebron, the anguish and complexity of that beautiful city and its surrounding hills.
Chayei Sarah is a Torah portion commemorating Sarah's life, her burial in the Cave of Machpelah, and the finding of a wife for Yitzchak in Rivka. It has also marked for some time, an annual gathering in Hebron of many on Israel's far-right, and with anti-Arab sentiments. They taunt the Muslim-Arab residents, demonstrate their dominance over the Cave and the city, and remind them on whose land they live. They gather this weekend because our parashah details how Hebron and the Cave in its fields became ours. Abraham gets the land from the Hittites; we inherit it through Yitzchak, to whom Abraham willed all his possessions. I am troubled by the displays of aggression because they contradict the lesson I find in our reading about what acquiring land means and how to behave once we have it.
Abraham needs a place to bury his wife as he sets his affairs in order. Abraham, whom G-d has blessed with great wealth, wants to pay for the land. In 23:4, he says to Ephron, the Hittite Chieftain:
"Ger v'toshav anokhi - A stranger and a resident among you, am I. Sell me a burial site among you, that I may remove my dead for burial."
Abraham is vulnerable, a stranger among them. Alone in the Land of the Hittites, Abraham seeks legitimate residence. He hopes buying this plot will let him live comfortably and securely in this land through the end of his life and pass on that comfort and security to his descendants.
Abraham's declaration is both very bold and very humble. The Hittites owe him nothing and have no reason to treat him kindly. Being a stranger is dangerous. Abraham could be a threat - a wealthy man, small his party may be, possibly coming to steal their land. Instead, Ephron is gracious but further complicates Abraham's status saying in 23:6,
"…you are G-d's chosen-one among us. Bury your dead in the choicest of our burial places…"
and in 23:15,
"…what is 400 silver shekels'-worth of land between you and me? Go and bury your dead."
In verses 7 through 14, Abraham insists on paying. He does not want to leverage his position as G-d's chosen one to get this land. When Abraham finally accepts Ephron's terms, he bows low. Abraham teaches us not to use our chosen-ness to walk high and wield power over others. Abraham instead bows low to the ground, seeing what life looks like from society's lowest position.
The Bible expands Abraham's lesson to the Israelites and eventually to all of humanity. In Leviticus 25:23, G-d speaks to the Israelites, saying,
"…the land is Mine; you are but strangers resident with Me."
In First Chronicles 29:15, the author writes of all humanity,
"We are sojourners with you, G-d, mere transients like our fathers."
Perhaps like Abraham, not quite at home but looking to settle. The verse continues,
"our days on earth are like a shadow with nothing in prospect."
Though our histories may be strong and our claims to land legitimate, these verses describe who we are relative to the land we live on and that land's Divine Source. In all cases, humility is vital.
Abraham sought the Cave for himself and his descendants. Still, Abraham never forgot that he had neighbors and wanted to do right by them. It is no accident that Chayei Sarah's tales of purchasing and owning land follow Parshat Vayeira's lessons of hospitality and the model of the ideal host.
It pains me that in many Jewish communities, we teach lessons of hospitality and welcoming people one week, and the next week teach dominance and control over land with little regard for others living there.
Today, we are the tribe in charge of the Land and Hebron. The new Hittites. I will not dispute our power's legitimacy, nor question how we gained it. As Jews, we are now responsible for the Land of Israel in a way that may be unique in history. As such, many Jews see it as their divine right and mandate to rule the non-Jews residing amongst them - reminding their neighbors that it is firstly our Land. But we should remember Abraham, bowed low and humble, accepting the weight on his shoulders to set the right example for the great nations that will descend from him.
Indeed, humility is taught from the Beginning. On the Torah's first verse, Rashi brings a midrash that teaches,
"The Torah starts with the Story of Creation to remind us that the entire world is G-d's. Lest anyone accuse the Jews that, "'You are thieves! You have taken the Land of Canaan from the Seven Nations' We should respond by reminding, 'the whole world is G-d's to give as G-d pleases. G-d willed the Land to them and then took that away and willed the Land to us.'"
Logically, G-d could take the Land too, but the comment stops short. Granted, the Torah suggests G-d's covenant with Abraham is permanent. Still, as products of that covenant, we should ask, "Are we behaving in a way that shows we still merit this Land? Are we acting responsibly there so that we can continue to be responsible for it?"
I believe the promises of Abraham's covenant have less to do with the physical borders of the Land as they do with how we live on the lands wherever we are. If we are to leverage our chosen-ness, let us leverage the wisdom of our Tradition to help us follow Abraham's humble example. We should deal humbly with our neighbors. So too, we should be humble in our relationships to God and in our interpretations of what it means to be a Chosen people.