07 Nov THE SPIRIT LIVES ON

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
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?
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
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 meritsspanned

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
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
RabbiAkiva. 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
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
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
cut down in their youth, before they could
We must pronounce prayers, not only for
ourselves, but for the beautiful little children
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
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.