NOVEMBER 21 • 2024 | 43

down before the people of the land,
the Hittites. He said to them, ‘If you
are willing to let me bury my dead,
then listen to me and intercede
with Ephron son of Zohar on my
behalf so he will sell me the cave of
Machpelah, which belongs to him
and is at the end of his field. Ask him
to sell it to me for the full price as a
burial site among you.
’”
He takes their vague commitment
and gives it sharp definition. If you
agree that I may bury my dead,
then you must agree that I should
be able to buy the land in which to
do so. And if you say, no one will
refuse me, then surely you can have
no objection to persuading the man
who owns the field I wish to buy.
Ephron the Hittite was sitting
among his people, and he replied to
Abraham in the hearing of all the
Hittites who had come to the gate
of his city. “No, my lord,
” he said.
“Listen to me; I give you the field,
and I give you the cave that is in it. I
give it to you in the presence of my
people. Bury your dead.
”
Again, an elaborate show of gen-
erosity that is nothing of the kind.
Three times Ephron said, “I give it
to you,
” yet he did not mean it, and
Abraham knew he did not mean it.
Again, Abraham bowed down
before the people of the land and
he said to Ephron in their hearing,
“Listen to me, if you will. I will pay
the price of the field. Accept it from
me so I can bury my dead there.
”
Ephron answered Abraham,
“Listen to me, my lord; the land is
worth 400 shekels of silver, but what
is that between me and you? Bury
your dead.
”
Far from giving the field away,
Ephron is insisting on a vastly
inflated price, while seeming to dis-
miss it as a mere trifle: “What is that
between me and you?” Abraham
immediately pays the price, and the
field is finally his.
What we see in this brief but beau-
tifully nuanced passage is the sheer
vulnerability of Abraham. For all
that the local townsmen seem to pay
him deference, he is entirely at their

mercy, he has to use all his negotiat-
ing skill and, in the end, he must pay
a large sum for a small piece of land.
It all seems an impossibly long
way from the vision God has painted
for him of the entire country one day
becoming a home for his descen-
dants. Yet Abraham is content. The
next chapter begins with the words:
“
Abraham was now old and well
advanced in years, and the Lord had
blessed him in all things.
” Gen. 24:1
That is the faith of an Abraham.
The man promised as many children
as the stars of the sky has one child
to continue the covenant. The man
promised the land “from the river
of Egypt to the great river, the River
Euphrates” [Gen. 15:18] has acquired
one field and a tomb. But that is
enough. The journey has begun.
Abraham knows “It is not for you
to complete the task.
” He can die
content.
One phrase shines through the
negotiation with the Hittites. They
acknowledge Abraham, the alien and
stranger, as “a prince of God in our
midst.
” The contrast with Lot could
not be greater. Recall that Lot had
abandoned his distinctiveness. He
had made his home in Sodom. His
daughters had married local men.
He “sat in the gate” of the town (Gen.
19:1), implying that he had become
one of the elders or judges. Yet when
he resisted the people who were
intent on abusing his visitors, they
said, “This fellow came here as an
alien, and now he wants to play the
judge!” Gen. 19:9
Lot, who assimilated, was scorned.
Abraham, who fought and prayed
for his neighbors, but maintained his
distance and difference, was respect-
ed. So it was then. So it is now.
Non-Jews respect Jews who respect
Judaism. Non-Jews disrespect Jews
who disrespect Judaism.
So, at the end of his life, we see
Abraham, dignified, satisfied, serene.
There are many types of hero in
Judaism, but few as majestic as the
man who first heard the call of God
and began the journey we still con-
tinue.

Jew or American?
J

ews in America have been
accepted as part of the fabric
that makes up this great coun-
try, and we have as many rights
under the Constitution as any
other citizen. Our grandpar-
ents put it best, “
America is a
goldene medina — a golden
country.”
Yet, we are still not the same
as our neighbors; we, the Jews,
are different. So, are we part
and parcel of this country or do
we stand apart?
A deeper look at the behav-
ior of Abraham will give us a
glimpse into this answer. In this
week’s Torah portion, Abraham
demonstrates how to relate to nations
who accept us as equal.
After Sarah passed away, Abraham
tried to purchase a plot of land from
the sons of Heth for her burial. They
wanted to give him a burial spot
for free, yet he insisted on properly
purchasing the land saying, “I am a
stranger and an inhabitant with you.”
Right there, Abraham categorized
the essence of a Jew in this world; we
are full “inhabitants” of the world, yet
we are still “strangers.”
On the one hand, we are
inhabitants of this country in every
sense of the word. We are involved
in politics and government, do
business together, go to the same
universities and speak the same
language. We are even prepared to
stand right alongside our non-Jewish
countrymen and sacrifice our lives
defending our country.
Still, we are total strangers to the
people of this country, and our world
is completely strange to them. We
live our lives differently; we pray
differently; we eat different foods and
celebrate different holidays.

When it came to burial, which is a
part of that spiritual world of which
our neighbors have no understanding,
Abraham said to the Hittites,
“Sell me a separate burial plot
so that I may bury my dead.”
The Hittites couldn’t
understand why Abraham
was talking about differences
and separations. They wanted
Abraham to feel at home
among them and as one with
them. They wanted him to bury
his wife the way they buried
theirs. Yet all their courtesy did
not cause Abraham to sway.
He insisted on buying the
Machpelah cave because he
wanted to demonstrate that although
in certain ways Jews are one with
their neighbors, when it comes to
anything that is a part of our spiritual
world (including death and life after
death) we are completely strangers to
them. Jews are a different breed.
When our grandparents came to
this country, they were complete
strangers in the literal sense.
Therefore, they did everything in
their power to blend in and become
integrated among the “inhabitants” of
America. They were very successful;
and we, their descendants, became so
integrated that we forgot about being
“strangers.”
The mission of our generation is to
reinstate ourselves in the “stranger”
category. We must constantly remind
ourselves and teach our children that
we belong to a higher spiritual world.
Let’s remember what makes us dif-
ferent and be proud Jews who openly
practice Judaism.

Rabbi Schneor Greenberg is rabbi of the

Chabad Jewish Center of Commerce, rabbi@

jewishcommerce.org.

SPIRIT
TORAH PORTION

Rabbi
Schneur
Greenberg

Parshat

Chaye Sara:

Genesis

23:1-25:18;

I Kings 1:1-31.