A Daughter’s Choice, A Parent’s Blessing

Chayei Sarah, 5785

When we think of famous uses of the word “Lech,” go, in the Torah, our minds go right to Lech Lecha, get you going, God’s command to Avraham to drop everything, leave the land of his birth, and go to the land that God will show him. Maybe, if you think a bit harder, you’ll think of וּבְלֶכְתְּךָ בַדֶּרֶךְ, the phrase from the Shema that tells us to contemplate these words as we walk along the way. But I want to make the case today that when you think of significant “Lechs” in the Torah, you should think of Rivkah’s Eilech. I will go.

Let me set the scene for you. Avraham’s slave, who the Midrash names Eliezer, has been sent back to Haran to find a wife for Yitzchak. He meets Rivkah, who impresses him with her generosity and hospitality. Her family, though, is far from hospitable. Betuel and Lavan, her father and brother, appear kind to Eliezer, but they demonstrate their reluctance to send Rivkah away, equivocate giving a straight answer to Eliezer, and conspire to prevent Rivkah from leaving with Eliezer. But Eliezer demands a straight answer, and so her family says “ נִקְרָא לַנַּעֲרָ וְנִשְׁאֲלָה אֶת־פִּיהָ” “Let us call the girl and await her answer.” And Rivkah responds simply “אֵלֵךְ” “I will go.”

There is, for sure, a parallel to Avraham’s willingness to follow God’s command into the unknown. Rivkah is also taking a large risk by choosing to go to a land she does not know, and marry a man she has never met. But the text is also very clear: this is Rivkah’s choice. It is not made for her by anyone else. She has the final say. From this verse, the rabbis learn that a woman, no matter who she is, has the final say in whether or not they get married. No father can force his daughter to marry someone she does not want to. Even an orphan girl, a ward, who in the patriarchal thinking of the time would be best served by being married off and placed into a household and therefore protection, cannot be forced to marry. Her choice is absolute.

Rivkah, according to the Talmud and various Midrashim, did not grow up in a good household. Her brother Lavan is most famous from how he will treat his future nephew, Ya’akov–tricking him into marrying Leah, stealing Ya’akov’s labor, always acting treacherously with him. He is someone who is obsessed with money, and acts in the opposite manner of Rivkah. Whereas Rivkah takes care of Eliezer, giving him and his camels water, when she knows nothing about him, we are told that Lavan only invites Eliezer into his home after he notices the gold and jewelry that he has given Rivkah–that is to say, after he is sure that Eliezer is a rich man. Betuel and his wife, Rivkah’s parents, are similarly imagined as not being particularly righteous people. In fact, the same midrash that teaches that we learn marital consent from Rivkah’s Eilech teaches us that Betuel was killed by an angel for opposing the marriage. And yet even her family–with the exception of the deceased Betuel–honored her decisive choice to go and marry Yitzchak. Lavan played no more tricks. Her mother raised no more complaints. They packed her things and sent her on her way with a blessing.

One of the griefs of parenthood, that I am sure I will appreciate in time, is that your kids don’t always do what you want. In general, most of us are good about honoring the choices made by others, respecting their autonomy and their decision making. But kids feel different. They should do what parents want them to do. They should listen. And yes, I am not naive. There are places where kids have no choice. We are going to the doctor today, and it is going to happen whether your kid likes it or not. But I think it is important to emphasize areas where our kids do have choice, where their consent is required. Bodily autonomy is a big one. Naima and I, even before we had Shira, talked about how we wanted to be deliberate in how we raised future children and talked to them about other people and their bodies. Avoiding saying things like “Give Grandma a kiss!” and moving to “Do you want to give a Grandma a kiss?” We want her to know from an early age that she gets to make decisions about her body–nobody else does.

But as she gets older, her autonomy will expand. We will spend her childhood hoping to teach her right from wrong, our values, and I am sure she will come to intuit our hopes for her future. But she will get to make those decisions on her own. She will choose what career to pursue, if and who to marry, how she practices Judaism. Maybe she’ll make the choices we want her to. Maybe she won’t. But in the end, it doesn’t matter either way. They are her choices. Naima and I cannot make them for her. The least we can do is love her and respect her no matter what she decides or who she wants to be. If the worst family in the Torah can honor their daughter’s choice, and send her off with a blessing, we owe it to our daughter to do the same. To promise her a blessing, no matter where she goes in life, no matter what path she chooses.

I will go. אֵלֵךְ. That one word seals Rivkah’s destiny. The famous Israeli educator Nechama Leibowitz noted that it is an active word: Rivkah is not merely brought back by Eliezer, but chooses to go. She enters into the Jewish story willingly, on her own accord. By herself, Rivkah is a role model in choosing to take her destiny into her own hands. But for those of us who are parents, Rivkah’s choice presents us with a challenge. The challenge of loving and blessing our children, even and especially when they make choices that are not the choices we would have wanted for them.

I know that this challenge will not apply to everyone in this room today. It's a bit more restrictive, and also more personal. It also is one of my hardest challenges. I know that Shira is going to do things that I would not choose. I know that your kids, your grandkids, will also make similar choices. Perhaps they already have. And I want to challenge myself today to remember to bless them. No matter what. Shira, and any other kids I may have, will always be deserving of my blessing. No matter what choices she may make. My one desire is that she make those choices. That she stand up. Say אֵלֵךְ. And decide her own destiny.