A good friend of mine emailed me this week, “Rabbi, call me urgently!” Of course, I dropped everything and called him.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“My mother-in-law is on her deathbed in the hospital. Can you come and say vidui with her? The doctors say she has only a few hours left to live.” (vidui is the prayer we say before passing away.)
“I’ll be right over,” I promised.
I jumped into my car and headed towards the hospital, but as we all know, driving through New York City means virtually guaranteed traffic and delays.
So there I was, driving down the left lane when out of nowhere a taxi cut me off! He had been driving down the middle lane and noticed a woman hailing a cab, so he cut right in front of me and kept me waiting for several minutes while his passengers got in and settled.
During those minutes of frustration, I realized there are two kinds of taxi drivers in NYC. There are the taxi drivers with a mission—they know where they’re going, who they’re picking up and where they’re taking them. And then there are the “wanderers”—they drive around aimlessly looking for somebody to hop in and tell them where to go. Clearly, my “buddy” was of the second variety.
Fortunately, I made it to the hospital in time and was able to say the vidui prayer with the ailing woman. Sadly, she passed on a few hours later.
In this week’s Torah portion, we read about Sarah’s death and burial. We read about her son, Yitzchak, marrying Rivkah and being comforted after his mother’s passing. But astonishingly, the name of the Torah portion is “Chayei Sarah,” which means “Sarah’s Life.” How can the section which describes her death and burial in such detail be called “Sarah’s Life”?
It all depends on how a person lives their life.
Are you drifting through the middle lane, looking this way and that way for some leadership and direction? Are you ambling along, easily pulled by the material pleasures beckoning from the side of the road? Are you living a life devoid of any spiritual meaning?
Or are you living your life with a strong sense of purpose and direction, knowing exactly where you’re headed? When you’re focused on the destination, the material pleasures along the way are easier to ignore. You know they’re not the real deal. There’s a higher, more important calling. You know Torah and mitzvoth are the goal, and you can push aside the physical temptations along the way. You know that you are a high on this earth to spread goodness and kindness.
Sarah knew that the most important task is spreading spirituality and illuminating the world. Because she was focused on a higher purpose, her life did not end when she passed away. Her children continued down the path she scratched out, emulating her ways, which is why the portion is called “The Life of Sarah.”
And this is why we say the confession prayer on our deathbeds. Even if we drifted through life, when we’re facing the end, we finally realize that the material pleasures are not important—they stay in this world. It’s only the love, kindness, Torah and mitzvoth we can take along.