The Torah, as it often does, gives us clues, and this time it’s wrapped up in the story of Abraham burying his beloved Sarah.
In Genesis 23:19, we read, “Then, Abraham buried Sarah his wife in the cave of the field of Makhpela opposite Mamre, which is Hebron, in the land of Canaan.” Simple enough, right? But the rabbis in Bereshit Rabbah, a classic collection of rabbinic interpretations of Genesis, never let us settle for simple. They see layers upon layers of meaning.
The phrase "Then, Abraham buried" is our entry point. The Rabbis connect it to a verse from Proverbs (21:21): “One who pursues righteousness and kindness will find life, righteousness, and honor.” But what’s the connection?
Well, "One who pursues righteousness" – that, according to the Rabbis, refers directly to Abraham himself. And the prooftext? Genesis 18:19: “[For I love him, so that he will command his children and his household after him,] that they observe the way of the Lord to perform righteousness.” God Himself vouches for Abraham’s commitment to righteousness!
And "kindness?" Ah, that's Abraham’s act of kindness towards Sarah. By buying her a burial plot – ensuring her dignity even in death – he embodies chesed, loving-kindness. It's more than just a transaction; it's a profound act of respect and devotion. This concept of chesed is absolutely central to Jewish ethics, a way of acting in the world that imitates God’s own compassion.
So, what did Abraham "find?" According to the proverb, he found "life, righteousness, and honor." And in Abraham’s case, we see this playing out directly. "Life" is straightforward: "The years of Abraham's life that he lived, one hundred and seventy-five years" (Genesis 25:7). A long life, blessed by God.
But it's the "righteousness and honor" part that gets really interesting. Rabbi Shmuel bar Yitzchak offers a stunning interpretation. He says that the Holy One, blessed be He, said to Abraham: ‘My craft is performing kindness. You have adopted My craft, now come and don My garment!’ In other words, Abraham is invited to share in God’s own attributes. He gets to "share the honor of a description that is used for Me."
The ultimate proof? "Abraham was old, advanced in years" (Genesis 24:1). And how is God described? As "the one of ancient days" (Daniel 7:9). Abraham, through his pursuit of righteousness and kindness, becomes like God.
It's a breathtaking idea, isn't it? That by emulating God’s qualities, we can, in a sense, draw closer to the Divine. That our actions, our choices, have cosmic significance. That buying a burial plot—an act of love and respect—can elevate us to a higher spiritual plane.
What does this mean for us? Perhaps it's a reminder that the small acts of kindness, the quiet moments of righteousness, are far more powerful than we realize. They are the threads that weave together a life of meaning, a life that echoes with the very essence of the Divine. They are what truly matters. So, what "garment" of kindness will you choose to don today?