Parashat Hayyei Sarah – 5786

A D’var Torah for Parashat Hayyei Sarah

By Rabbi Dorit Edut

For the last two years our Jewish people have been in a state of trauma and mourning – yes, I would say it is PTSD on a national scale. We’ve been worried constantly about what was happening in Israel, especially with the hostages, and worried about our physical safety and emotional security in the Diaspora.  Now with the return of the living Israeli hostages from Gaza, and some of the bodies of the murdered hostages, we are able to have a modicum of relief, a chance to begin mourning rituals, and a ‘moment to breathe again’, as Rabbi Donniel Hartman and Yossi Klein Ha-Levi said in their recent “For Heaven’s Sake” podcast. As regards those of us in the Diaspora, there is a momentary lull, though we still live with much anxiety and keep both eyes and ears open for any potential attacks.

Perhaps the Biblical character that most resembles a person with PTSD is Isaac. After all, his half-brother abused him as a kid, his mother dies without any disease or forewarning, and his own father tried to ritually slaughter him as we read on Rosh HaShanah (Gen. 22:10) and in last week’s portion Vayeira. However,  we hear nothing from him until the very end of this week’s portion (Gen. 24:62-67).  We learn that he has been in mourning after the death of his mother, approximately for three years which, according to our Jewish tradition, is considered an excessive amount of time and points to an unusual mental health state.

What helps Isaac recover from this condition or at least be able to resume living with others in a more vibrant way? The answer the Torah gives is Rebecca, the kinswoman bride whom his father and servant Eliezer have found from their family in Aram-naharaim. Their meeting is a climactic moment in the narrative. It is not only a case of love at first sight (the first time “love” is mentioned between a man and woman in the Tanakh), but also of “comfort” or “consoling”, as the Hebrew verse indicates. Rebecca, taken into Sarah’s tent by Isaac, restores the “light” therein, according to Midrash Aggadah 24, by kindling the Shabbat candles, separating the dough of the challah, and practicing the laws of niddah, family purity. Perhaps, suggests the 12^th century commentator Radak, Isaac recognizes in Rebecca the same personal characteristics his mother had and this in itself consoles him. But it is certainly through the compassionate and patient care of Rebecca that Isaac recovers and is soon able to start a family with her.

Let us remember that Rebecca, like Abraham, has given up her birth family, her birthplace, and her country to come to a land and culture she did not know – but with the hope that Isaac will be a great husband and she will become a part of his family in Canaan. She was not told that she would be the one to lift him up out of his depressed state, yet she manages to do so through love and kindness and no known complaints.

How can we understand this Biblical example in terms of modern psychology and how can it be applied to an entire nation, both those living in Israel and those in the Diaspora? First let it be explained that, like the process of mourning in Judaism, there are several stages that one goes through in recovering from PTSD.  According to Dr. Trish Kahawita, in an article entitled “A Guide to The Stages of Complex PTSD Recovery” (Sept. 20, 2022, Health-Match) there are four stages to this process: 1) self-acknowledgement of symptoms, 2) re-establishing a sense of safety, 3) remembering and grieving,  and 4) reincorporating yourself into everyday life. Of course, therapists, family and community are involved at various stages. The third and fourth stages sound much like what happens when in Jewish practice we mourn the loss of a loved one – going from the seven days of shiva, to the first month or shloshim, to the setting up a gravestone and ending the year with the anniversary or yahrzeit observance. Gradually we come to adapt ourselves to this new reality of our lives and to being able to both remember and move forward.

I often think of my parents who were Holocaust survivors and only found each other after the war. Their PTSD manifested itself over several years as I grew up. At first, we lived quite separate from others outside of our immediate family who lived in New York, Israel and Luxembourg, and we spoke European languages at home, plus kept up many of the customs and cuisine of their birthplaces. Gradually, especially as my sister and I brought in more American ways, my parents joined a synagogue and we became part of a larger community here in Detroit.  When my sister and I were pre-teens, my parents started to tell us of their wartime experiences and also established a group of friends whom they called “fellow refugees.” Later, other friends and neighbors became part of their circle and they joined PTA, Hadassah, and various camera clubs. I can’t say that my parents were ever totally without anxiety – and my father even temporarily developed a severe case of asthma from stressors at his workplace when he was passed over for a promotion just because he was the only Jew in his engineering department though he had much more education and experience. This must have been a flashback for him to his German experience after the Nuremburg Laws were enforced. But over the next 30 years my parents felt more secure and enjoyed traveling and living in this country.

When it comes to a whole community or nation experiencing PTSD, there is also a slow but gradual process of going forward with our lives while not totally forgetting that pain or sadness we have experienced. Perhaps this is already happening in Israel today, and we in the American Jewish community can be the supportive ones, as Rebecca was to Isaac. As regards our own stressful situation, the answer seems to be standing together with Jews here and all over the world, including Israel, and figuratively giving a hand to each other, helping each other to rise as at the end of our shiva period. Na’ama Levitz Applbaum in an article entitled “An Invitation to Rise From Our Communal Mourning” (in the journal Sources, Summer 2025) writes that “Both must begin with honest conversations in our own communities and with one another about what it means to be in relationship with Israel while mourning all human loss… cultivating a language that holds grief, loyalty, and hope together – one that reflects one of our core values, the belief that every human being is created be tzelem Elohim, in the image of God. We must invest in education, community building, and meaningful dialogue… imagining what a renewed Jewish future looks like in Israel and around the world.”

Let us do this also with genuine love, compassion, and understanding that will help us renew our familial connections and guarantee a strong future for the coming Jewish generations. Am Yisrael Hai!