Parshat Vayera is a composed of a number of intertwined stories. The stories of three women appear through the thread of the stories. There is Sarah, the mother of the Jewish people, there is Lot’s wife who lived in S’dom and fled with her husband from the city and there was Hagar, who was the handmaid of Sarah. These three women had children, with various challenges and joys and in Parshat Vayera each of them entered into a nightmarish situation, with various conclusions.
Lot’s wife flees her burning town with two daughters, but another two daughters and their husbands remained in the burning town. As she fled, she was told to never look back, but she did, perhaps even to call for her daughters one more time. The story ends with Lot’s wife turning into a pillar of salt, perhaps even a pillar of dried tears.
Hagar was expelled to the desert from Avrahams’ home by her mistress Sarah. Sitting in the desert with no more water for her son Ishmael to drink, Hagar sat apart from the child so she would not watch his suffering. She asked God to save her child and, indeed, God responds to her son's cries and she and her son are saved.
Sarah’s story is what I write about this week. She and Avraham wait for children for many years and miraculously a son is born to her in her old age. We hear so little about Sarah after her son Yitzhak is born, and the story of the Akeydah (The story where Avraham is ready to sacrifice his son, Yitzhak) contains no mention of Sarah at all. Where was she? The next time we hear about Sarah is in the next Parsha, Chayai Sarah, where we hear of her death. M’farshim sometimes attribute this sudden death to Sarah’s reaction to the Akeydah and her impression that her son was sacrificed.
In this poem I imagine the nightmare of Sarah, as a mother, and I imagine Yitzhak's thoughts as he and his father climb Mt. Moriah. We have all experienced nightmares where we find ourselves unable to move in order to save a loved one. This is Sarah’s nightmare; a woman lost in the dark, in the midst of a dream scene, trying to reach her son. This poem is not based on any midrash that I am familiar with, but it was inspired by the Matan podcast for Parshat Vayera, which offered an enlightening portrait of Sarah and her absence for the Akeyda.
We speed through the book of Breisheet. There is so much to learn from it. I hope you will take the time to read it for this Shabbat.
May we hear better news soon.
Shabbat Shalom,
Leann
PS. I have written this in two parts. This doesn't always show up well on cell phones, so I have used different colored fonts and have italicized Sarah's part.
Parshat Vayera- Searching
"Where are you, Mother?"
he asks himself as he climbs
The donkey is laden with kindling wood,
plods forward, as in a trance.
His father looks neither left nor right,
he stares straight ahead,
He,too, plods forward, as if in a trance.
"My son,
I am searching for you.
I wander in an endless landscape, barefoot.
My feet scrape over stones and brambles.
I leave trail of blood and tears."
"Where are you, Mother?"
he asks as mumbles the number of his steps.
45, 46, 47, 48.
His father is as stony and gray as the rocks they pass
as they climb upward.
"My son,
I walk through a valley of darkness searching for you.
Perhaps it is a valley of my own invention?
It is dark here, my son,
but I have brought no light to light my way.
I inhabit a nightmare that I cannot wake myself from.
I must find you, but my eyes do not see."
"Where are you, Mother?"
he whispers through trembling lips,
"For I see the mountain top through the clouds.
86, 87, 88, 89
Mother, my heart says turn around, but still I walk forward."
"My son
I struggle to find to you!
You are my eyes,
You are my breath, which grows ragged now.
In my heart I am running to you, my son,
but the darkness does not lift.
My feet no longer can move; they are as heavy as two stones.
From afar I hear the sounds of mothers calling their sons
for dinner,
"Come home, they cry!"
"Come home my son, I cry, but no one hears my cries."
"Mother, we near the mountain top."
650, 651, 652, 653
I count to calm myself.
"Mother, where is the ram?"
"Mother, where are you?"
"Mother, help me answer these questions!"
"My son,
my only son,
My dearest son,
I am failing you.
"Adon Ha'olam
Carry me to him.
Take me from this darkness.
Teach my feet to move again."
"Melech Ha'olam, are You listening to me?"
"God, it is me,
It is Sarah.
The laughter has left my body."
"Are You listening?"
Comentarios