November 19, 2011 | 22 Cheshvan 5772 | Genesis 23:1-25:18

As a teenager, I was often called by one family to babysit their two young children.  Although babysitting is not an unusual job for teenagers, I was a particularly odd choice. For one thing, I wasn’t actively looking for babysitting opportunities. In fact, this was the only family that I sat for. The other peculiar piece of this story was I didn’t fit the stereotypical model of a babysitter. In a workforce dominated by teenage girls, it was an oddity for a male to hold such a position. Then, of course, there was my own unusual character.  I was the teenager in the neighborhood with the rock and roll band in the garage. I had hair down to the middle of my back and covering my face. The amount of times I was called for babysitting jobs was equal to the amount of times that the police were called to my house by the neighbors for a noise disturbance complaint. For the aforementioned reason, in retrospect, I was an unusual choice as temporary guardian for any given evening.  However, I found myself at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Brown down the street, as they suited up to go out for a night on the town, prepared to leave their precious children in my juvenilely, delinquent hands.

As fate would have it, I was a great babysitter, at least from the kids’ perspective. Unless prohibited, all food in the fridge, freezer and pantry were fair game.  All they needed to do was ask. Bedtime was loosely interpreted. And their favorite game consisted of being dragged around the house, up and down the stairs on a long blanket as they held on for dear life. Needless to say, after my first time sitting, there was never an episode of crying upon seeing mommy and daddy putting on an overcoat and grabbing the car keys. These kids couldn’t wait until their parents left the house. And I was always the family’s first call when they were in need of a sitter.

After a year of regularly watching these children, I received an invitation in the mail. I was being invited by their elementary school to be their guest for VIP day. Traditionally, VIP day is an opportunity for grandchildren to honor their grandparents by inviting them to their school for a morning of tours and activities. Apparently, when the Brown children were asked who they would like to invite, they wanted me, their babysitter, as their VIP guest. I was clearly the only babysitter in attendance. Imagine the scene – Long-haired, Rock and Roll Laurence with 50 other grandparents walking from room to room in this elementary school, sitting on miniature chairs, up against tiny desks.  I assumed that I was chosen because their grandparents were unavailable. Regardless of the cause, I was definitely honored and really felt blessed to have had such an impact in these children’s lives, so much so that they would consider me as their VIP.

What made my nomination possible for such a prestigious position was the fact that the school called the day “VIP” day and not “grandparents” day. Of course, this is the politically correct label for this occasion.  After all, who knows each family’s circumstances. There are a myriad of reasons that could preclude biological family from being in attendance, many of which could elicit pain and sorrow with the inaccessibility of grandparents. Therefore, labeling the occasion as VIP, opens the day to anybody who earned this significant status.

The truth is, in our modern age, even biological families must earn their position if they are actually going to be blessed with the title.  Today, simply birthing a child doesn’t make somebody a mother or a father, a grandmother or a grandfather. Families are much more fluid.  Values like honesty, respect and love help endear us to people in such close ways that it is possible to become somebody’s aunt, or uncle, grandmother or grandfather, even mother and father.

This is where we find our patriarch Abraham this week as we begin our holy text transitions from the focus on Abraham and Sarah towards Isaac and Rebecca. This week, in parsha Chaye Sarah, after Abraham purchases a burial plot for his beloved wife, Sarah, and mourns her passing, the Torah tells us:

Abraham was old and well advanced in age; and the Lord blessed Abraham in all things. (Genesis 24:1)

Focusing on the vagueness of the words – in all things,  Rashi, RAbbi SHlomo Itzhaki, 10th century commentator extraordinaire, brings us the Midrash Tanchuma which elucidated the gematria (numbering) of the word B’kol – “in all things” – as being the equivalent of the word ben – “son”. Through this understanding, Midrash Tanchuma explains the narrative that follows where Abraham sends his eldest servant, Eliazar to secure a wife for his son Isaac. Through this midrashic connection, the midrash goes on to say that Abraham’s blessing in life, blessed “in all things,” is a result of his being involved in the arrangement to marry off his son Isaac. Accordingly, Abraham is blessed not simply by having a son. Instead, his blessing comes from his involvement and his fulfillment of responsibilities for his son. According to Tanchuma, Abraham is not a VIP for having a child; he is a VIP for being involved with his child’s live.

I feel certain that my invitation to these children’s VIP day was not a denigration of their biological grandparents. I am sure that there were very significant reasons that precluded their participation on this auspicious day. However, my inclusion was not random either. It was earned with every bead of sweat that I perspired while dragging those children around the house on a blanket; through every story that I read while ignoring the appointed bedtime; through every time I engaged in their lives. As Rashi and midrash Tanchuma reminds us: The blessings in all our lives are not so much divinely gifted as they are divinely earned.    

Shabbat Shalom.