“Chesed and truth have met together; righteousness and peace have kissed.” (Psalms 85:11)
This parashah, Chayei Sarah, is one of the richest in stories, bringing us practical lessons for daily life. There appears to be a contradiction in the title of this parashah, as it supposedly speaks about the life of Sarah. Yet, both at the beginning and the end, it refers to the deaths of Sarah and Abraham, respectively. We see the narrative indirectly introducing the role of our patriarch, Isaac, as the reason for Sarah’s life and the continuation of her legacy, which was left in limbo when her “tent” was left empty upon her death. Therefore, it was essential to find someone worthy to occupy Sarah’s tent in order to continue Abraham’s legacy.
After Sarah’s death, the Torah recounts that Abraham searches for a place to bury her and honour her memory. He goes to Ephron to buy a tomb, who initially offers it for free, but ends up selling it at an unfair and exorbitant price. Then, an impossible mission unfolds: finding a wife for Isaac. In those times, there were no dating apps, so finding a suitable partner was a challenging and risky task in a world where the knowledge and ethics of the Torah had not yet been widely disseminated.
We then see how the Divine guides Abraham’s servant, and his mission is completed when he returns with Rebecca to occupy the tent space left by Sarah. This generates a miracle in Yitzchak, who manages to express his love despite being a withdrawn and introverted person, according to the narrative. It ends with Abraham remarrying and leaving an inheritance to his sons, establishing that his lineage would continue through Yitzchak. At the time of his death, his sons were apparently living in peace and had reconciled.
Despite everything mentioned above, I would like to develop an idea I found in this parashah: Chesed Shel Emet (genuine, selfless grace or kindness) and Chesed Shel Sheker (false kindness), also known as Chesed Mezuyaf (faked or counterfeit). Abraham and Sarah represent the ultimate expression of Chesed; they were hospitable, giving without hesitation, showing mercy to others, and “invoking the Divine Name,” among many other expressions of kindness in action. And now we find that both of them die in this parashah, creating a “distortion,” so to speak, in the story, a void that will need to be filled.
Let’s look at the first story. Ephron embodies a false, empty Chesed. He offers a gift, freely given, in front of many, and a sweet talker to appear kind. He says, “No, my lord, listen to me; I give you the field…” (v. 23:11). But in the end, he reveals his greedy and calculated intentions by charging the merchants 400 pieces of silver for the tomb. In contrast, we see Abraham quietly accepting the inflated price to bury his wife: “But Abraham weighed out the silver” (v. 23:16). That is, Abraham acted without expecting anything in return. In biblical Judaism, the highest Chesed is that which is not reciprocated; that is, the “favour” cannot be returned. In its highest expression, honouring a deceased person by burying them is the ultimate act of Chesed, because the dead can never repay. In this case, Abraham shows Chesed to his wife without expecting anything in return. True Chesed doesn’t seek convenience; it seeks honour and repayment with justice.
Then, we see in the miraculous story of Abraham’s servant, who, according to the Midrashim, was Eliezer (God is help)—whether a real name or a name that evokes a virtue— his real name is not truly known. The servant swears to serve his master, and his mission is not simple: to find a wife for Isaac. In his eagerness to succeed in his mission, he alters his master’s words when in front of Rebecca’s (Rivka) family, demonstrating discernment in his effort to perform Chesed for his master. There may be many who disagree with what I’m about to say, but his Chesed was guided by wisdom; its purpose transcends literal truth, and we learn that not all truth should be conveyed in the same way to everyone. True Chesed is based on wisdom, not naiveté. We then see chesed v’chochmah, kindness with wisdom.
We also see Chesed Naki (סֶד נָקִי), or pure kindness, in Rebekah in this part of the narrative. It seems that Chesed was a natural gift in her, as she was able to manifest it after Sarah’s spark was extinguished. She shows no reluctance, nor fear of the effort it would take to water Abraham’s camels. No one asked her to do it, nor was she forced to perform this task, despite its exhausting nature. For this reason, she was chosen by the Divine, representing the woman who gives immeasurably, a Chesed that did not hesitate to go with a stranger, to an unknown land, and to be separated from her family.
In contrast, we see a silent and manipulative Chesed in Rebekah’s household. Verse 24:3 says, “And Rebekah had a brother, and his name was Laban…” an interesting detail that should not be overlooked, since it does not introduce, but instead omits her father, Bethuel, in the introduction to her family.
In Rivka’s home, paternal authority had been silenced; her mother controlled the house from behind, while her ambitious brother, Laban, took control. The father’s silence and Laban’s prominence reveal a culture of false Chesed—hospitality in words, but self-interest in their hearts. Rivka deserves credit for breaking this pattern when she leaves Haran. Leaving Haran (fire, deceit, and idolatry) denotes Rivka’s desire to elevate herself.
We also see a mask in the story of Laban (or Lavan, meaning “white”). “And it came to pass, when he heard the words of Rebekah… and saw the ring and the bracelets…” (24:30); Laban runs, not like Abraham, to attend to the strangers before his tent, but this is motivated by greed. He is the representation of false Chesed; his mouth says welcome, while his eyes calculate the weight of the gifts.
In Isaac and Ishmael, we also see chesed. Ishmael (יִשְׁמָעֵאל) means “God will hear.” However, the angel told him: “He will be a פֶּרֶא אָדָם ‘pereh adam’—a wild man, like a wild donkey.” (Gen. 16:12). That is, Chesed without limits or direction creates an imbalance because it lacks justice. Ishmael hears, but he doesn’t transform. In contrast, Isaac (meaning “laughter”) denotes joy and spiritual delight. Isaac sets limits to his Chesed; he masters it, achieving integration and continuity. We see that in chapter 25:9, “And Isaac and Ishmael, his sons, buried him…” Isaac, given their shared past, could have excluded his brother from this moment; however, he integrates or includes him, allowing him his place. This is great Chesed, one that makes room for the other, that seeks reconciliation, one that incorporates, because we also read that he integrates the sons of Keturah (25:6), ensuring that their names are inscribed in the Torah.
Isaac’s Chesed is a Chesed Mechaber, a kindness that connects (Chibur, root of Hebron); it is a kindness that unites what was fragmented. And so, I return to the beginning, where it says that Sarah was buried in Kiriath-Arba, “the city of four,” referring to the four patriarchs: Adam and Eve, Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, Jacob and Leah. It is said that four represents the dimensions of the human being: body, soul, mind, and emotions. Sarah managed to integrate her life of Chesed (i.e., spiritual love) with death, the human and the divine, the past with the future, the masculine with the feminine, and pain with hope.
In Genesis 24:67, it says: “And Isaac brought Rebekah into the tent of Sarah his mother, and he loved her; and she was a comfort to Isaac after his mother.” True kindness and love do not replace; instead, they provide continuity. They do not forget, they integrate. This is how Sarah lived, this is how Abraham honoured, and this is how Isaac laughed.
What is our Chesed like? Do we integrate or fragment? Do we give to be seen, or because we recognize God in others? Chesed Shel Emet is what builds bonds like those of Abraham, Rebekah, Isaac, and the servant. Chesed Mezuyaf appears to be unity, but it actually leaves division, much like that of Ephron and Laban.
I conclude with the story of our Haftarah: in the same way, just as Abraham sought to preserve the continuity of his legacy, David seeks to maintain continuity. True Chesed prepares the way for the future. Just as Abraham sought a wife for Isaac, David must secure the throne for Solomon (2 Samuel 7:12-13). We see how Bathsheba and Nathan risked their lives as an act of chesed (kindness) to protect God’s promise to David (1 Kings 1:17). She defends the truth even when it is uncomfortable.
Just as Laban and Ephron were symbolizing self-serving kindness, we see how Adonijah’s behaviour, “And Adonijah exalted himself, saying, ‘I will reign…’” (1 Kings 1:5). Then, he rose up to organize a banquet in an act of false kindness: generosity to gain power from both the military and the priests. And just as Laban rushed to the gifts offered by Abraham’s servant, Adonijah rushed toward the crown, not toward the continuation of David’s covenant.
From both stories, I learned that we must relinquish control and trust those who come after us. The deepest Chesed is to raise heirs of goodness, people who will continue multiplying the Divine legacy and transforming the future. It was sufficient for Abraham to raise Isaac, and for David, Solomon. Both prepared the soul in another to continue our legacy. True continuity of the people of Israel, from Abraham and Isaac to David and Solomon, always depends upon distinguishing between Chesed that builds up and Chesed that only appears to be kind but is devoid of covenant. The former sustains the future; the latter attempts to steal it. Therefore, when “Chesed (Kindness) and Emet (Truth) meet, Justice and Peace kiss” ( חֶסֶד־וֶאֱמֶ֥ת נִפְגָּ֑שׁוּ צֶ֖דֶק וְשָׁל֣וֹם נָשָֽׁקוּ׃ Chesed ve-Emet nifgashu; Tzedek ve-Shalom nashaku). May we have the merit to continue the legacy of Shear Yashuv and our Ranebi.
Shabbat Shalom
Mauricio Quintero
