November 7, 2025
16 Cheshvan 5786
Parashat Vayera
Genesis 18:1 -22:24
Dear Friends,
Coming to this week’s Torah portion, I am struck by how strongly I am enveloped by my parents and what they stood for and believed in. This is particularly true in light of the 30th anniversary of Yitzhak Rabin’s assassination and the observance of Kristallnacht. Unlike other survivors of the Shoah, my parents shared their traumatic experiences so that we, the next generation, would not be faced with the same situations again. They were the embodiment of hospitality. It almost seemed as if my parents’ generous hospitality was a way to heal the wounds of the past without hiding or forgetting them. As we commemorate the past, we find ourselves at a moment where the vision for peace embodied by Rabin and that sense of welcoming others in has been fractured almost beyond repair.
This week’s Torah portion, Vayera, and the Divine appeared (Genesis 18:1 - 22:24), has the Divine appearing over and over again in what may be interpreted as many guises. But it is the first and the last appearances that resonate most deeply.
The first appearance comes at the very beginning of the Torah portion as Abraham is sitting outside his tent recovering from his circumcision at an advanced age. Out of nowhere, three figures appear. Abraham’s response is to actively greet them and make them comfortable, even going so far as to wash their feet. He feeds them and provides them with gracious hospitality. He goes out of his way, despite his condition, to make them welcome.
This quality of making people welcome and going out of one’s way to do so is a strong trait in my family, going beyond my parents and including my aunt and uncle. In a family that has known deprivation and severe loss, the ability to be generous and giving is to be valued. In this story, Abraham and Sarah are exemplars of audacious hospitality. Today, it Is a quality that we are being asked to embody day after day as we see people in need of homes and shelter. How do we express it? What do we do? The situation continues to become more and more fraught each day as ICE patrols our major cities and food for those in need is scarce. We need only see people lined up waiting for food to be distributed to understand the depth of need.
At the end of the Torah portion, although Isaac doesn’t die, the family is ripped asunder with Sarah dying far from Abraham. What does that have to do with Kristallnacht? Like the Akedah, the almost sacrifice of Isaac, it is a moment of trauma that we all still carry as we cannot quite comprehend it. Kristallnacht was a pivot point, a time when so -called civilized people took pleasure in tearing apart others who had been their neighbors just days earlier. Human beings have a capacity for going along unthinkingly, not fully realizing that our inaction has weight.
We humans are capable of bringing our best selves forward, particularly if we see a need. But it is our other, darker side to willingly obey without question that presents a struggle. Do we take the time to ask why? Do we take the time to consider the consequences of our actions and inactions? From Abraham’s generosity at the beginning of our Torah portion, to his questioning of the Divine’s plan to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah, to acquiescing to the request to bind his son on an altar, we see his struggle. We are all that Abraham is; we are generous and giving, we are willing to fight for our beliefs and sometimes, we give in without a fight when we are overwhelmed by the power confronting us.
We just finished an election and many more participated than was expected, not only by casting votes, but by talking to neighbors, having difficult conversations, and donating money. I believe we would all like to be like Abraham when he greets his surprise guests despite his own physical challenges. The almost sacrifice of Isaac takes place on Mount Moriah, a place of vision. It is the second time in our Torah portion that the solution to the problem is right there, if only eyes were opened. Hagar, having placed her dying son under a bush, fails to see the stream of water until directed by an angel; Abraham fails to see the ram caught in a thicket until a voice calls out. What are we failing to see?
Could it be that this is a lesson for all time? The past events that we commemorate this week and the events in the Torah portion serve as potent reminders that following blindly leads to trauma and destruction. Maybe the way to avert, or at the very least, heal some of the trauma is to welcome in the stranger; through these acts of chesed, of lovingkindness, all have the potential for being healed. May we have the strength to see what is possible. Solutions may be closer at hand than we realize if only we open our eyes and see one another.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Rabbi Linda Shriner-Cahn