The matriarch Rebecca, like Sarah before her, was childless. When finally she did conceive the pregnancy was exceedingly difficult - to the point that Rebecca called out lamah zeh anochi.
An older translation rendered the verse, “Why am I thus?” I take this rendering to mean, “What did I do to deserve this?” Not an unusual question in times of suffering or distress. The question itself rests on the assumption that suffering is the consequence of having done something wrong.
The Midrash understands the verse differently. Rebecca’s question was “If this is what it takes to bring children into the world, why was I so anxious to desire it?” In other words, “What could I possibly have been thinking? Why on earth did I want this?” Not an unusual question if you discover that the thing you longed for did not deliver anywhere near the happiness or satisfaction expected.
A more modern and I think better translation has it, “If this is so, why do I exist.” In fact later in the parashah Rebecca expresses a similar thought when she says to Isaac, lamah li chayim, Why am I alive? Not an unusual question when, early or late, you reach that point along the way when you begins to wonder “What is the meaning or purpose of my life?”
In Hebrew there is an expression l’kach nasartah, for this were you created.
Before he entered politics US President Harry Truman was a partner in a clothing business with his friend Eddie Jacobson. In 1948 when the United Nations was debating the creation of the State of Israel, Eddie Jacobson went to see President Truman to encourage his support for the partition vote. Eddie Jacobson ( some say it was Chaim Weizmann) told Harry Truman l’kach nasarta – for this sacred purpose were you placed in your mother’s womb. You have the opportunity here to justify, to give meaning to your entire existence in your support of the historic re-founding of a Jewish state.
Such moments need not be so grandly historic in their import. But for each of us there are moments when - if we are prepared to step outside of our usual skeptical mindset – we may well entertain the notion that we are being used for and by a Higher Purpose. When the significance of what we have been called to do or say somehow vaults far above the ordinary, when it transcends the normal, the natural. Such moments bring clear-headed and far-sighted meaning to our days.
British historian Paul Johnson wrote a comprehensive History of the Jews. He chronicled 4000 years of strife and striving and his conclusion: The Jews have stood forefront in their belief that history has a purpose and humanity a destiny. If that is true of the collective then it certainly holds for the individual as well.
In 1998, gay college student Matthew Shepard was robbed, tortured, tied to a fence post and left to die. A fellow student, Aaron Kreifles out for a mountain bike ride found the badly beaten boy the next morning and got him to a hospital where Matthew died six days later. Of that day Kreifels wrote: I hit a rock and I fell. I never fall. It was then that I saw Matthew.” The image of badly beaten boy haunted him for months. “ I kept asking, “Why? Why did I fall? Why did I have to find him, especially if he was going to die anyway.” Eventually, he concluded, “I think God didn’t want Matthew to die alone. But why did it have to be me?
L’kach nasartah. For this you were created.
L’kach nasartah – keep the phrase handy when you realize that you have done way more than just make a difference or done a good deed. You may have in fact just advanced God’s purposes and plan for creation.
Can there be a holier or more exalted realization than that?
Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi Whiman