One of the most remarkable truths about human life is that we are influenced by circumstances we did not choose, yet we possess the extraordinary ability to determine what those circumstances will ultimately mean. We do not choose the family into which we are born, the environment in which we are raised, or many of the challenges that confront us. But we do have a choice about the kind of people we become. One of the greatest tragedies in life is when a person mistakes the circumstances of his beginning for the limitations of his future.
This week's Torah portion, Chayei Sarah, explores this principle through two extraordinary individuals, Rivkah and Eliezer. They came from different backgrounds and occupied very different positions in society. Yet both demonstrated the remarkable capacity to rise above their circumstances and become instrumental in shaping the future of the Jewish people.
The Torah devotes an extraordinary amount of attention to Avraham's instructions to his trusted servant Eliezer, his journey to find a wife for Yitzchok, and his encounter with Rivkah. Our Sages declare, "The conversations of the servants of our Patriarchs are more precious than the Torah discussions of their descendants." Why does the Torah dedicate so much attention to what appears to be a straightforward marriage arrangement? Because this is not merely the story of finding a wife. It is a profound lesson about human character, personal transformation, and the extraordinary power of the choices we make.
Avraham instructs Eliezer not to choose a wife for Yitzchok from the daughters of Canaan, but rather to travel to his ancestral homeland and find someone from his extended family. The commentaries raise an obvious question. What made Avraham's relatives preferable to the inhabitants of Canaan? Both societies practiced idolatry. Indeed, Rivkah's father, Besuel, and her brother, Lavan, were hardly models of moral excellence. Why would Avraham insist that his future daughter-in-law come from such a household?
Our Rabbi’s explain that Avraham was concerned not simply with religious beliefs but with the underlying character of the person who would become the mother of the next generation. The Canaanites were deeply corrupted in their moral behavior, while Avraham's family possessed an inherited capacity for kindness and generosity. Mistaken beliefs could eventually be corrected, but the foundation of a person's character would determine the kind of home that person could build.
Yet if Lavan and Besuel possessed such fine character, how did they become the dishonest and self-serving individuals portrayed in the Torah? Our Rabbi’s provide a fascinating insight. Avraham's family possessed the potential for goodness, but they lacked the courage to remain faithful to their convictions. Surrounded by a society dominated by idolatry and moral compromise, they gradually accommodated its values. What began as outward conformity eventually became an internal transformation. They wanted acceptance, comfort, and success, and so they compromised until the values they once merely tolerated became part of who they were.
Here lies one of the most sobering lessons about human nature. We do not always become what we believe. Very often, we become what we repeatedly do. What begins as an exception becomes a habit, and what becomes a habit eventually shapes our identity.
We do not always become what we believe. Very often, we become what we repeatedly do.
Then, from within this very household, emerges Rivkah. A young girl surrounded by people whose priorities were so different from her own, yet she refuses to become a reflection of her environment. When Eliezer arrives at the well and asks for a drink, Rivkah immediately responds, offering to draw water for his ten camels as well. Nobody asked her to do this. Nobody promised her a reward. She had no idea that this stranger represented one of the most consequential missions in Jewish history. She simply recognized someone in need and responded with extraordinary generosity.
While the people around her had learned to calculate what they might gain from every encounter, Rivkah instinctively considered what she could give. Her kindness was not a performance or a strategy for personal advancement. It was the natural expression of her character. Later, when her family asks whether she is willing to accompany Eliezer to marry Yitzchok, she answers with extraordinary clarity: Eilech, "I will go." She is prepared to leave everything familiar because she recognizes that her future belongs to something greater than the world she has known. She possesses the courage to follow what is right even when it requires traveling an unfamiliar road.
But Rivkah is only half of this extraordinary story. The other half belongs to Eliezer himself. Our Sages teach that Eliezer had originally hoped that his own daughter might marry Yitzchok. Avraham rejected that possibility, explaining that Eliezer descended from Canaan, upon whom a curse had been pronounced, while Yitzchok belonged to the family of blessing. The one who was cursed could not unite with the one who was blessed.
Imagine Eliezer's disappointment. He had devoted his life to Avraham, absorbed his teachings, and embraced his values. Yet he was reminded that his ancestry placed limitations upon his aspirations. He could have become resentful or bitter. Instead, he accepted his mission and carried it out with absolute dedication. Every step toward finding Rivkah was another step away from his own personal dream. Every effort he made to secure the marriage meant bringing about an outcome that excluded his own daughter. Yet he never allowed personal disappointment to compromise his responsibility. He remained faithful to Avraham's mission because he understood that something greater than himself was at stake.
And our Sages reveal a remarkable conclusion. When Eliezer arrives at Rivkah's home, Lavan greets him with the words, "Come, blessed of Hashem." The Midrash understands this as reflecting a profound spiritual transformation. Eliezer, who had begun in the category of Arur, cursed, had now entered the category of Baruch, blessed.
What an extraordinary transformation! Eliezer could not change his ancestry or rewrite the circumstances into which he had been born. But through loyalty, selflessness, and unwavering commitment, he elevated himself beyond the limitations that had once defined his position. And remarkably, his transformation occurred precisely when he placed someone else's future ahead of his own personal aspirations. He did not become blessed by demanding more for himself, but by giving more of himself.
There is a fascinating contrast between Rivkah and Eliezer. Rivkah was born into Avraham's extended family, yet she had to choose whether to embrace the values that Avraham represented. Eliezer was not born into that family, yet through his actions, he absorbed and embodied those very values. Rivkah refused to allow her environment to determine her character. Eliezer refused to allow his circumstances to determine his destiny. Together, these two individuals made possible the marriage that would shape the future of the Jewish people.
How relevant this message is to our lives today. We often allow our past to become an excuse for our present. We tell ourselves that our upbringing has determined our character, that our mistakes have permanently defined us, or that the expectations of others have established the boundaries of what we can accomplish. We become so accustomed to the person we have been that we stop imagining the person we might yet become. Certainly, our circumstances matter, and some people face challenges that others can scarcely imagine. But the Torah reminds us that our circumstances, however influential, are not the final verdict upon our lives.
When Rivkah finally enters Sarah's tent, our Sages teach that the extraordinary blessings that had characterized Sarah's home return. The Shabbos candles once again burn with miraculous endurance, blessing returns to the dough, and the Divine Presence rests upon the tent. The young woman who refused to surrender her values to her surroundings becomes the one who carries forward the spiritual legacy of Sarah Imeinu. And the servant who refused to surrender to the limitations of his circumstances becomes the messenger through whom that extraordinary future is made possible.
The message of Chayei Sarah is that our past may explain where we stand, but it need not dictate where we are going. No matter how much we have accomplished or how many opportunities we have missed, we retain the G-d-given ability to grow, to change, and to become greater than the person we were yesterday.
We cannot always choose where our story begins. But with Hashem's help, we can choose the direction in which it continues. May Hashem bless us with the wisdom to recognize our opportunities, the courage to rise above our limitations, and the strength to transform every challenge into an opportunity for growth. May we never allow our past to diminish our hopes for the future, and may we merit to bring greater blessing, kindness, and holiness into our lives and into the world around us.
Have a wonderful week and a beautiful Shabbos!
Rabbi Zalman Lipskar
(adapted from the writings of my Father and Teacher, Rabbi Sholom D. Lipskar, obm)
