Vayigva
vayamot Avraham b’seivah tovah zakein v’savei’a vayei’a’sef el amav. Vayik’b’ru
oto Yitzhak v’Yishmael banav el m’a’rat hamakhpeilah el S’deih Efron ben
Tzochar haChiti asher el p’nei Mamrei.
And
Avraham expired and dies at a good old age, full of years, and was gathered to
his people. And Isaac and Ishmael, his sons, buried him in the cave of
Makhpelah in the field of Efron ben Tzohar the Hittite, which is before Mamre. (Breishit 25:8-9)
V’hamelekh
David zakein ba bayamim va’y’khasuhu babgadim v’lo yicham lo…. v’hamelech lo
y’da’ah. Va’Adoniyah ven chagit mitnasei leimor ani emlokh….
And King David was old of many days, and they covered him with
clothes but he could not get warm…. And the king knew her not…. And Adoniyah
exalted himself saying, ‘I will be king…’ (I Kings I:1, 4-5)
Parashat Chayei
Sarah, ‘The Life of Sarah,’ begins with Sarah’s death and ends with Avraham’s
death. The haftarah begins with the death of King David. Sarah is beloved and
lamented by Avraham. She has lived 127 years. Avraham’s death is not a tragedy.
He lived 175 years. He is buried by Isaac and Ishmael, having been “gathered to
his people.” He is part of something greater than himself, “his people,”
generations of beloved others who would perhaps welcome him after death. Sarah’s life is viewed through
Avraham’s eyes. Avraham’s life is viewed through his sons. In juxtaposition is
the haftarah. David is “King
David.” His life is viewed through his position instead of his relationships.
At the end of his life he is King, and he is alone. He was beloved by God, but
it is not enough. At the time of his death his family is not there. He is surrounded by strangers and courtiers.
They cover him with blankets, but he cannot get warm. It is more than heat he
is missing.
Sarah and
Avraham could die content with their loved ones around them proud of their
lives. King David lived a life of love for God, but also a life of war and decadence.
As a king it may have been successful, but as a person it was cold and lonely.
This is how King David dies.
There is a wonderful poem written by
Linda Ellis called The Dash. It speaks to the
quality of our lives. What matters most is not the day we are born, nor the day
we die. What matters is the time often represented by the dash on a headstone.
In Linda Ellis’ words- “So, when your eulogy is
being read, with your life’s actions to rehash… would you be proud of the
things they say about how you spent YOUR dash?”*
* “The Dash” is copyrighted by Linda Ellis. To read the poem, go to
http://www.linda-ellis.com/the-dash-the-dash-poem-by-linda-ellis-.html.
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