Mother asks little Johnny, as they wait for the bus, to tell the driver he is 4 years old when asked because he will ride for free. As they get into the bus the driver asks Johnny how old he was. "I am 4 years old."
"And when will you be six years old?" asks the driver. “When I get off the bus," answers Johnny.
The biblical debut of the favorite Jewish pastime, matchmaking, is recorded extensively in this week’s portion Chayei Sarah. Isaac is 40 years old, he needs to get married and so Abraham sends his faithful servant Eliezer on a search. Unlike modern-day matchmaking in which people are profiled based on vital issues like political alliances, music, and wine, Abraham gives Eliezer just one requirement: “Swear to me by the G-d in Heaven that you will not take a wife for my son from the daughters of Canaan. Only go to my land, the place of my birth, and find a wife for my son, for Isaac.”
Eliezer obediently travels to the city of Haran, Abraham’s hometown, their current home to Abraham’s relatives. (The ancient city of Haran was excavated in South-East Turkey. Arriving at the town's well, he turns to G-d and proposes a test: the girl who comes to the well to draw water for herself, yet upon seeing him—the weary traveler—will agree to share her water with him and all ten of his camels, this will constitute as a sign that she is the right match for Isaac.
As soon as Eliezer finishes talking to G-d, a young beautiful girl by the name of Rebecca arrives at the well and meets Eliezer’s criteria, drawing water for both Eliezer and his camels. She invites him home and introduces him to her father, Betuel. Eliezer recounts his entire story to Betuel, starting with telling him he is Abraham’s servant up until how he came to choose Rebecca as the suitable bride. He concludes his long narrative by asking him for Rebecca’s hand in marriage to Isaac. The family is ambivalent, but Rebeca insists she wants the marriage. The deal is sealed. Rebecca travels to the Holy Land and marries Isaac. The rest is his-tory—or her-story.
The question is the shocking length at which Eliezer’s story is recorded in the Torah. 67 verses are allotted to the story—in a book that often covers major events in a few verses. The giving of the Torah at Sinai is recorded in far fewer verses! The length and seemingly unnecessary repetition of this story is so uncharacteristic of the biblical narrative.
What is even more perplexing than the length of the story is that half of it is pure repetition!
To understand this let us introduce an interesting twist to this story, recorded in the Midrash.
You see, Eliezer had a daughter of his own, and his greatest dream was that Isaac would be his own son-in-law. Eliezer broached the idea to Abraham who adamantly refused his request. Abraham insisted that Isaac marries only a member of his own family, and not a local of Canaan. Yet, Eliezer still harbored in the back of his mind the faint glimmer of a far-fetched hope, maybe Abraham will acquiesce.
The Chassidic work Sefat Emet unravels to us the subplot of the story. Eliezer was experiencing in his psyche a truly deep conflict. On the one hand, Eliezer was unconditionally devoted to Abraham. As Abraham stood against the entire pagan civilization, Eliezer became his chief pupil committed to him heart and soul. He truly and sincerely wanted to fulfill the request of his master Abraham and succeed in finding Isaac a wife in Haran. He yearned to complete his mission, knowing that this was the climax of his years of service to Abraham: ensuring continuity.
But on the other hand, he was still a human being who had his own agendas. He understood the great opportunity of marrying Isaac and he wanted his daughter to mother the Jewish nation. He was well aware of the grand future that was to become of Isaac’s descendants, and he wanted his daughter to be an instrumental part of this spectacular destiny. He also knew the holiness and sensitivity of Isaac and he wanted to see his daughter married to such a man… Can you blame him?
But here is the story: Eliezer’s conflict was unconscious. In his conscious mind, he was unaware of the dichotomy in his heart. Consciously, he felt that he was completely devoted to Abraham’s mission. He was unaware that in the subconscious cellars of his psyche lingered a very different desire—for Isaac to marry his own daughter.
And the fact that inside his system he did not want Abraham’s mission to succeed actually hindered it. As much as he tried to move forward, he couldn’t seal the deal. Eliezer was sitting on a fence, torn between what he said he wanted, and what he really wanted; between what he wanted to want and what he really wanted. Eliezer was stuck—and as a result, the mission was stuck.
Is this not true for many of us? I tell myself that I want to really get married. I have been dating for so many years, so many people, and nothing ever works. I tell myself that I really want to lose weight; I went on five different diets, hired many a trainer, bought a treadmill, but to no avail. I want to have a better relationship with my spouse, with my children, with my siblings, with my parents, I tried many things, but it did not work.
How did Eliezer resolve the issue? And how can we?
It is for this reason that the Torah has to repeat the entire story of Eliezer’s journey and encounter with Rebecca. This is not a simple repetition; rather, it was during Eliezer repeating the story to Betuel, that he suddenly becomes aware of his hidden agenda. And when he became aware of it, the problem dissipated.
Because often in life, the key to the problem is not the problem but your lack of awareness of the problem.
That is why the Torah retells Eliezer’s story in excruciating detail, because in the repetition—a whole new story is emerging: the story of the unconscious. It is the story of a servant who is unconditionally loyal and selfish, a servant who possesses an existential duality, yet ultimately remains loyal to his master Abraham.
Awareness, raw awareness, is the genesis of all healing.
A man was once asked what was he majoring in?
He replied: “Decision making.”
The man was intrigued. “Really, there is a whole department in university on the science and psychology of decision-making? Wow.
And what will you do with a degree in decision-making?”
He replied, “I haven’t yet decided.”
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky
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