By:  Chaya Sora Jungreis

While this week’s parsha, Chayei Sara, tells us of the death of Sara Imeinu, it opens with the words “Chayei Sara, the life of Sara”.

Why the “life of” when speaking of Sara’s death. The Torah is teaching us that Sara lives on, in us and through us. We are carriers of her spiritual DNA, an internal spark of kedusha, a gene of emunah and bitachon, faith and trust, the keys to our survival.

Not only are Sara’s genes within us, but her zechusim, her merits, are with us, giving us protection and strength during challenging and difficult times.

Generations after Sara’s passing, Rabbi Akiva was in the midst of teaching his students, when he noticed their faces falling, their eyelids drooping, as if they were dozing off.

Wanting to get their attention, and wake them up with a bang, Rabbi Akiva, in a loud clear voice, called out a pasuk from this week’s parsha, “These were the years of Sara’s life, Sara lived a hundred years, twenty years, and seven years.” (Bereishis 23:1)

Rabbi Akiva then mentioned that Esther HaMalkah ruled over 127 provinces in the Persian Empire, all in Sara’s merit. What lesson was Rabbi Akiva trying to convey? Why choose this pasuk to gain his students’ attention? How were the years of Sara’s life and the lands that Esther ruled a wake-up call?

Rabbi Akiva was a most prolific speaker, a leader of his generation, a master teacher with many, many students, each one a great rabbi in his own right. How can it be that their eyes were closing while listening to Rabbi Akiva?

Rabbi Akiva understood that their faces were falling, their eyes closing, not from a lack of sleep or a case of boredom, but from an intense pain their heart. A pain so strong, so powerful, that they became distressed and despondent. They were living under tyrannical Roman rule, their lives were difficult, their hearts pained. They eyes began to close with sadness and hopelessness. What will be, what will be, they worried.

Rabbi Akiva realized that he had to jolt them out of their anguish. To give them an infusion of tikva, of hope for the future. He told them of Sara’s 127 years… of Esther’s 127 lands. It was no coincidence, but Sara’s merits spanned the generations, and were with Esther, protecting her in the palace of Achashverosh. It was Sara’s spiritual genes that gave Esther the inner strength to not only persevere, but to stand up to Haman and be a fighter for her people.

Through this message, Rabbi Akiva was passionately telling his students that they were not alone, but are all links in the shalsheles, the chain of our people. From generation to generation, the merits of our ancestors are with us.

Chayei Sara. The life of Sara. Even from a lofty place above, Sara is with us.

We are living in frightening times. Terrible atrocities have been committed against our people. Atrocities that did not end on October 7, but have launched a worldwide war of antisemitism. The shouts of “From the River to the Sea” are more than just a call for the elimination of the State of Israel, but for the annihilation of the Jewish people.

At times we may feel like the students of Rabbi Akiva. We may have moments where our eyes are closing, our heads falling, and we too, may be asking, what will be, what will be. We must be reminded of Chayei Sara, the life of Sara. So many holy neshamos that are caring for us, and pleading to HaShem on our behalf.

HaShem gave the entire Jewish world a massive jolt. A traumatic wake-up call. The tragic loss of 1,400 precious Jewish neshamos has awakened our people in ways never seen before. People are davening more, learning more, doing more chesed, and giving more tzedaka. And so many who have been disconnected from Jewish life have experienced a new energy, a new pride in being Jewish, and a yearning of wanting to identify with their Jewish heritage.

As Sara’s memory lives on, so too, we have an obligation to remember the lives we have lost. The 1,400 brutally murdered, the hundreds of brave IDF soldiers who gave their lives fighting for the land of Israel, and the entire Jewish nation.

In the Jewish Soul on Fire, my mother wrote of not forgetting the six million lives lost in the Holocaust. Have we not experienced a terrible loss of lives in our own time?  A loss of such great magnitude that hasn’t been seen since the Holocaust.

“After the Holocaust, we, the survivors (and in a sense we are all survivors) have a sacred mission to live our lives in such a way that through us, those who perished would once again find life. We are not a nation that believes in memorials of stone. Ours is the awesome task of raising sons and daughters who, imbued with faith, will become living memorials for those who are no more.

We must kindle the Shabbos lights, not only for ourselves, but for the millions of mothers who are no longer able to do so. We must study the Torah, not only for ourselves, but for those magnificent young men who were cut down in their youth, before they could ever finish singing G-d’s songs.

We must pronounce prayers, not only for ourselves, but for the beautiful little children who with their very last breaths sanctified G-d’s name and pronounced a blessing. In the end, that is the only meaningful memoriam that we can offer a nation that chose to walk in the flames rather than deny its G-d.”

My mother addressed students of Bronx High School of Science at a Holocaust Remembrance Day program. Her words left the students in tears. Many of them wanting to ask questions. A young girl asked, “With all that suffering, how did you manage to keep your faith?”

My mother pondered the question for a moment. She responded that it never occurred to her that there was something special about keeping her faith. “How could I not keep my faith. It is only faith in G-d that kept us sane in those days of darkness. It is only because of G-d that we, the Jewish people, have survived, because had man had his way, the Jews would have all perished.”

My mother’s answer decades ago is the message we must live by today. As the recent surge of pure Jew- hatred shows, had the world had its way, we would indeed be gone.  But Anachnu Ma’aminim B’nei Ma’aminim, We are believers, children of believers,  V’ein lanu al mi l’hishaein, ela al avinu sheh’bashamayim, and we have no one in whom to put our trust except for our Father in Heaven.

Shabbat Shalom!

Chaya Sora

Chaya Sora can reached at [email protected]

This article was written L’zecher Nishmas /In Memory Of HaRav Meshulem ben HaRav Osher Anshil HaLevi, zt”l and Rebbetzin Esther bas HaRav Avraham HaLevi, zt”l