Our Inheritance From Avraham Avinu
After the akeida, Sarah Imeinu was told that Avraham had taken Yitzchak to Har Hamoria to offer him as a korban. Before she heard fully what had happened, her soul left her and she died (Bereishis, Rashi 23:2). Avraham then returned to Chevron “to eulogize Sarah and cry for her” (Bereishis 23:2). The Torah spells the word “cry” in an unusual way — the letter kaf is smaller than the other letters. The Baal Haturim explains that this alludes to the fact that Avraham did not mourn Sarah exceedingly, since she had lived a long life.
This is confusing. Aharon died at the age of 123, and yet Klal Yisrael mourned his passing for 30 days (Bamidbar 21:29). The same took place when Moshe Rabbeinu passed away at age 120 (Devarim 34:8). Why should Avraham have treated Sarah’s passing any differently?
Moreover, Sarah had reached a higher level of nevuah than Avraham (Bereishis, Rashi 21:12), and had been bringing women to belief in Hashem just as Avraham had been doing among men (Bereishis, Rashi 12:8). Why does the Torah stress that Avraham limited his mourning for Sarah?
Rav Avraham Cohen, in his sefer, Bikurei Avraham, writes that after the nisayon of the Akeida, Avraham was faced with a further nisayon — the Satan tried to make him feel as if Sarah had died as a result of the Akeida. Avraham was to feel that while he had not killed his son, he had indirectly caused his wife’s death. He should feel like a murderer. Look at what he had done! Look what a tragedy the Akeida caused!
Avraham understood that this was a nisayon in emunah. He therefore strengthened himself in the belief that it was Hashem who had determined when Sarah would die and not that his actions had hastened her death. This answers our question on the Baal Haturim: Avraham did not mourn exceedingly because he wanted to teach this idea, that Sarah’s death wasn’t a tragic consequence of the Akeida, rather she was an elderly woman and this had always been her appointed time to leave this world.
Of course, the loss of a tzadekess such as Sarah Imeinu should have been marked by an extended period of mourning, as was done for Moshe and Aharon. However, Avraham felt it was more important at this time to strengthen himself and others in the belief that only Hashem decides when a person’s life will end. He therefore limited his mourning to teach this.
In Bava Basra (16a) we see that Avraham faced yet another nisayon of emuna at this time. Hashem had promised him Eretz Yisrael, yet here he was, standing like a beggar before the Hittim, forced to pay an exorbitant sum for a tiny burial plot. Did Avraham feel frustration, thinking: “Didn’t Hashem say that Eretz Yisrael was mine? Why do I have to go through all of this?” Avraham’s emuna was so strong that such thoughts never crossed his mind. Throughout Avraham’s life he faced test after test in emunah and succeeded, never questioning Hashem’s goodness or His running of the world.
Each of us in our lifetime goes through test after test in emuna, but we should know that we have the ability to succeed in these tests. Avraham Avinu put into our spiritual makeup the ability to pass them. This is every Jew’s inheritance.
The Rebbe of Shomrei Emunim would quote the Sages’ statement (Makkos 24a), that the Navi Chabakuk “took all [the mitzvos] and established them on one [principle] — a tzaddik must live with his emuna.” The rebbe explained that a Jew must always make his emuna alive, meaning he must perpetually strengthen his emuna in Hashem.
How does one do this?
The Rebbe would advise thinking about Hashem’s miracles, such as the Exodus from Egypt and the unfathomably deep workings of nature. He would also advise reading sefarim that discuss the subject, observing tzaddikim or by doing mitzvos with feeling.
The Rebbe added, though, that even in times when a person’s emuna becomes weak and none of the above help, a Jew can always rely on the emuna peshuta (simple faith) that he inherited from Avraham Avinu. This is something that no one can take away from a Jew, not even the Satan.
What exactly is this emuna peshuta that we all possess?
Rav Moshe Wolfson explains that no matter what happens to a Jew, belief in Hashem is in his blood. Deep inside, he knows that Hashem exists and that He is with us. A Jew who is far from Torah observance can try to conceal this or deny it, but his instinctive sense that there is a G-d will always be with him.
Just as “an ox knows who his master is” (Yishaya 1:3), we should certainly live with the awareness of Who Hashem is. Just as it would never occur to a son to question whether the man he calls his father is in fact his father, we too know deep inside that Hashem is our Father.
Uriah Stein was 28 years old when doctors informed him that he had cancer and it had reached his eye. If he did not have his eye removed, he would not live for more than another four months, they said. From that moment on, Uriah began actively strengthening his emuna in Hashem almost every waking moment.
When he eventually traveled to the United States to undergo this operation, as he was waiting for the surgery to begin, he decided to write a letter to Hashem. This is what he wrote:
“Hashem, I know that You can do anything and that if You want, I will become well again. And if this disease is a hint that I was not careful in guarding my eyes, I hereby declare that I will guard my eyes more than before, and try constantly to strengthen my emuna and trust in You, and strengthen Your children’s emuna.”
Just before operating, the surgeon decided to test again if cancer had reached the patient’s eye. After examining the results, he discovered that he would be able to remove the cancerous growth without removing the eye.
From then on, Uriah made sure to fulfill what he had written. At every opportunity, he would speak with people about emuna. Just seeing him, a man clearly going through the painful effects of cancer yet full of happiness and trust in Hashem, was the greatest lesson.
May we be zoche to grow in faith and trust in Hashem!