What is Love?

The idea for this Dvar Torah came from one written by Troy O. Fritzhand, originally published in the Jerusalem Post.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

I really identify with this Torah portion of Chayei Sarah, because parts of it parallel aspects of my own life.

After Sarah dies at the outset of this week's parsha and following Abraham’s purchase of the Cave of Machpelah in Hevron to serve as her burial site, we come to the story of Rebecca becoming the wife of Isaac, Abraham’s son.

As many of you may recall, what convinces Eliezer, Abraham’s servant, that Rebecca is the right woman for Isaac, is the kindness she shows by drawing water for him, a stranger, and then by going above and beyond by giving water to each of his 10 camels (which would require multiple trips down to the water source and back).

This made me think of an anecdote from my own life.

Within the first months of meeting my current husband, I was faced with a dilemma.

Every year my parents held a reunion somewhere in the country with my father’s AEPi fraternity group from their undergraduate years at MIT. They never missed a chance to see their friends and looked forward to it all year.

The group was scheduled to meet up in New Orleans, and my parents decided to drive there in my father’s van, rather than travel by plane.

Which normally would not have been a problem, except only a month before my mother had two hip replacement operations and my father was suffering (as usual) from extreme back pain.

No matter what I said or what arguments I brought, they would not be deterred. They had driven this route many times before, they reminded me, and they would be fine, they insisted.

So, what to do?

I asked Avi (then boyfriend, now husband), “Have you ever been to New Orleans?”

Avi replied, “I’ve never been to New Orleans.”

“Would you like to go to New Orleans in a few weeks?”

Avi answered with excitement, “Yes, I’d love to go! It’s one of the cities I’ve always wanted to visit.”

“Excellent,” I replied. “There’s only one caveat… (pause)… we need to drive there in my parent’s van… (pause) …with my parents.”

I hastened to tell him the background of the request, and added that once we got there, we would have our own room and could craft our own itinerary.

To his eternal credit, Avi replied, “That’s not the trip I expected, but I’m onboard to help however I can.”

And then throughout the trip (which my parents later admitted would have been impossible if we hadn’t served as drivers), Avi was unbelievably kind to them. Whatever they needed, whatever their concerns, Avi was there to help with grace and a smile.

No, Avi did not water any camels, but by showing my beloved parents such complete kindness and deep respect, I realized then and there how very special he was.

[Of course, I should have had an inkling because on our first date, I asked him what he was looking for in a partner and without a moment’s hesitation, he said: “Good middos.” Meaning good qualities, good character. Not the answer I was expecting, and surely, not one I had heard from any of the guys I had met on JDate!]

Our parsha resumes when Eliezer returns with Rebecca to the Land of Israel to marry Isaac. There the Torah tells us:

“And Isaac brought her to the tent of Sarah his mother, and he took Rebecca, and she became his wife, and he loved her. And Isaac was comforted for [the loss of] his mother.” (Bereisheet/ Genesis 24:67)

A few years later, my mother’s cancer finally took her life, and months later, my father decided he no longer wanted to live given his enormous physical pain coupled with the emotional pain of losing his wife of 50+ years. He stopped eating and drinking, and within a week and a half he was dead.

I was bereft.

These were the foundations of my life, my role models and teachers. Parents who were always there when you needed them. Towering personalities and presences in my life.

A month after my father’s passing, I turned to Avi and said, “I know that there’s no need to get married. We both have children, and they’ve made it clear they don’t want to be the Brady Bunch. But…. what do you think about getting married and living the rest of our lives together?”

Avi answered with excitement, “I would like that very much!”

Unlike the story of Isaac, I already loved Avi when we got married.

Yet, similar to Isaac, I too felt enormous comfort joining my soul to another after the loss of my parents.

So what does this teach us about love?

The word love in Hebrew, ahava, has as its root the meaning “to give.”

When we generally think of love, we think of attraction (head over heels in love).

However, when we think about what it really means to love someone, it means to give them your everything.

When you are in partnership with someone, the result is that you are giving up something of yourself—some of your time, your energy, your desires.

To live with and love another means compromising your freedom, your plans, your future, so you can accommodate them in your life.

When that “compromise” feels like it’s a gift, an opportunity, a jackpot that you won in the lottery of love, then you know you’ve made the right decision.

I feel blessed to have found someone so kind and so compatible that giving doesn’t feel like a compromise at all; in fact, it’s my pleasure, indeed my honor, to give in return.

Since my parents’ deaths, we have encountered many more challenges in our lives, but somehow, together, when we look back, these challenges don’t seem so difficult or painful, because our love and support for one another was there to cushion the blows… just as it was for Isaac and Rebecca.

Shabbat Shalom