Save "Chayei Sarah 5786 - Grief can connect us: Small letter, large meaning"
Chayei Sarah 5786 - Grief can connect us: Small letter, large meaning
Sorrowing Old Man / At Eternity's Gate
Vincent van Gogh 1890
I recently visited a shiva house, a few hours after the funeral. The shared grief that suffused the room was an atmosphere that connected all of us who were there in that moment... and certainly connected me to other shiva calls I'd made, and to the shiva I'd sat for dear ones in my life who have died.
Grief: a deeply personal experience.
Grief: a universal experience.
Grief can connect us.
This week's Torah portion, Parashat Chayei Sarah (The Life of Sarah) begins:

(א) וַיִּהְיוּ֙ חַיֵּ֣י שָׂרָ֔ה מֵאָ֥ה שָׁנָ֛ה וְעֶשְׂרִ֥ים שָׁנָ֖ה וְשֶׁ֣בַע שָׁנִ֑ים שְׁנֵ֖י חַיֵּ֥י שָׂרָֽה׃ (ב) וַתָּ֣מׇת שָׂרָ֗ה בְּקִרְיַ֥ת אַרְבַּ֛ע הִ֥וא חֶבְר֖וֹן בְּאֶ֣רֶץ כְּנָ֑עַן וַיָּבֹא֙ אַבְרָהָ֔ם לִסְפֹּ֥ד לְשָׂרָ֖ה וְלִבְכֹּתָֽהּ׃

(1) Sarah’s lifetime—the span of Sarah’s life—came to one hundred and twenty-seven years. (2) Sarah died in Kiriath-arba—now Hebron—in the land of Canaan; and Abraham mourned for Sarah and bewailed her. (my translation)

... and ends with Abraham's death and his burial by both of his sons, Isaac and Ishmael, followed by a list of Ishmael's descendants:

(ח) וַיִּגְוַ֨ע וַיָּ֧מׇת אַבְרָהָ֛ם בְּשֵׂיבָ֥ה טוֹבָ֖ה זָקֵ֣ן וְשָׂבֵ֑עַ וַיֵּאָ֖סֶף אֶל־עַמָּֽיו׃ (ט) וַיִּקְבְּר֨וּ אֹת֜וֹ יִצְחָ֤ק וְיִשְׁמָעֵאל֙ בָּנָ֔יו אֶל־מְעָרַ֖ת הַמַּכְפֵּלָ֑ה אֶל־שְׂדֵ֞ה עֶפְרֹ֤ן בֶּן־צֹ֙חַר֙ הַֽחִתִּ֔י אֲשֶׁ֖ר עַל־פְּנֵ֥י מַמְרֵֽא׃

(8) And Abraham breathed his last, dying at a good ripe age, old and contented; and he was gathered to his kin. (9) His sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the cave of Machpelah, in the field of Ephron son of Zohar the Hittite, facing Mamre...

(יב) וְאֵ֛לֶּה תֹּלְדֹ֥ת יִשְׁמָעֵ֖אל בֶּן־אַבְרָהָ֑ם אֲשֶׁ֨ר יָלְדָ֜ה הָגָ֧ר הַמִּצְרִ֛ית שִׁפְחַ֥ת שָׂרָ֖ה לְאַבְרָהָֽם׃

(12) This is the line of Ishmael, Abraham’s son, whom Hagar the Egyptian, Sarah’s slave, bore to Abraham...

Last year in my commentary on Chayei Sarah I wrote about the possibility of affiliative healing suggested by Genesis 25:9:
This year, I turn my attention to the affiliative and healing experience of grief, an exploration into which I was invited by one small letter in the second verse of this week's parsha.
You'll note that there is an unusual smaller letter, a diminished kaf in the final word in Genesis 23:2; do you see it?

(ב) וַתָּ֣מׇת שָׂרָ֗ה בְּקִרְיַ֥ת אַרְבַּ֛ע הִ֥וא חֶבְר֖וֹן בְּאֶ֣רֶץ כְּנָ֑עַן וַיָּבֹא֙ אַבְרָהָ֔ם לִסְפֹּ֥ד לְשָׂרָ֖ה וְלִבְכֹּתָֽהּ׃

(2) Sarah died in Kiriath-arba—now Hebron—in the land of Canaan; and Abraham proceeded to mourn for Sarah and to bewail her.

וְלִבְכֹּתָֽהּ
"and [Abraham] bewailed her [Sarah].
bewailed... mourned intensely ... lamented for.
Whenever I come upon a word in the Tanakh that has an unusual letter (large letters [אותיות רבתי - otiyot rabbati], small letters [אותיות קטנות - otiyot ktanot], letters that are raised, broken, inverted, or stretched or spaced in an unusual manner) or words marked with unusual dots (puncta extraordinaria), I perceive these orthographic idiosyncrasiesassignals or signposts to me as student of Torah to pay special attention to the verse, pay special attention to this word.
Some refer to these unusual letters as "visual midrash", and I certainly experience them this way: the notable visuality of the letter or the word is a starting point for a jazz-like riff, and similarly to more familiar verbal midrash, this "riff" expands my understanding as I follow the textual and spiritual trail on which it leads me.
When I come upon these orthographic "oddities", my practice is to pay attention to this invitation, and to actively engage with this visual midrash, allowing myself to be drawn into exploring not only the particular word or verse, but also to explore the ramifications of the particular different-ness of the unusual letter in the verse.
I have written about unusual letters and puncta extraordinary in some of my other Torah commentaries here on Sefaria, including
Vayishlach 5785 Esau's kiss: an affiliative and healing act: "Righteousness and peace have kissed"
Vayishlach 5785 Esau's kiss: an affiliative and healing act: "Righteousness and peace have kissed" | Sefaria
So here in our verse, we have an unusual letter, a small kaf, that not only calls special attention to this verb, but also invites exploration of the possible meanings of this letter here being smaller than the rest of the word.
Turning first to the letter kaf itself: what is this letter? And why might it be that it is this particular letter in this word that is an unusual letter which is an אות קטנה (ot katan) - a small letter?
Volumes have been written about the Hebrew letters; let us take a brief journey here to gather some information about the letter kaf.
There is a body of Kabbalistic writings that is a rich source of teaching about the letters.
Kaf is the eleventh letter in the Hebrew alphabet. The literal meaning of the word kaf כפה is palm [of the hand] or spoon: something concave, receptive.
In gematria, kaf has the numerical value of twenty, which is two times ten; ten is the numerical value of the letter yod, which means hand. Instrumentality connected with receptivity.
In the Sefer Yetzirah (Book of Creation), the first known Kabbalistic text exploring the letters, kaf (categorized as one of the seven "double" letters [letters with two pronunciations, hard and soft and two visual representations].
The seven double letters are said to be foundational to creation. The double letters also represent contrasting pairs in existence, such as life and death, wisdom and folly, peace and war. In this context, kaf is specifically associated with the principle of life. 
Further, in Kabbalah the letter kaf is associated with the highest sefira כֶּתֶר (keter) - crown:

(ח) המליך אות כ' וקשר לו כתר וצר בו חמה בעולם ויום ד' בשנה ואזן שמאל בנפש:

(8) He made the letter Kaf reign, and He bound to it a crown, and formed with it the Sun in the World, and Wednesday in the Year, and the left eye in the Person.

Because of its shape, kaf is also thought to represent an attitude of submission, of bowing down, of bending; submitting to an order larger than ourselves.
My beloved teacher Rabbi Lawrence Kushner teaches about the letter kaf, in his beautiful first and classic book The Book of Letters. A Mystical Alef-bait (1975) (p. 46):
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"Kaf כַּף is the palm of hand כַּף KAF filled with sincerity כַּוַּנָה KAVANAH.
Kaf is a cup כּוֹס filled with blessing both for those who hold it and for those who drink from it.
It contains all the honor a child can bestow on his mother and father כָּבוּד אַב וָאֵם KIBBUD AHV VA-AIM. Honor of mother and father. That is all there is. כֹּל KOL. All."
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Additionally, in the form kaf takes when it is the final letter in a word - kaf sofit - a frequent meaning/ function of kaf sofit is that it serves as a pronominal suffix for the second person singular: you/ yours:
"we observe that when you affix the straight kaf [kaf sofit - final kaf] as the suffix to a word, it adds the word “you” to the root. As it says: “I will exalt You (ארוממך) my G‑d the King.” When you speak directly to a person, you say “you”: lecha, לך, or becha, בך—spelled with a straight kaf: The final kaf thus literally unfolds to include the person to whom you are speaking. It represents the fact that the king has appeared to us and we are able to speak to him face to face.The letter kaf. To bend oneself. To submit to the crown—the King, G‑d, the ruler of the universe."
https://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/137083/jewish/Kaf-Chaf.htm#footnote8a137083
To summarize what we have gathered about the letter kaf, to which our attention is drawn at the start of Parashat Chayei Sarah: the principle of life; receptivity; instrumentality; the crown; submission; connection with "you" - with the other.
Now, turning to the particular word, וְלִבְכֹּתָֽהּ - he wept deeply for her: What can we learn from this word, in this verse, with this small kaf sitting in its midst?
And not only this: what can we learn from this word, in this verse, with this special letter, at this particular time, through the lens of this particular moment at which we are engaging with this text? When we engage with Torah, we do so in the context of history and time. In this manner, we may learn an entirely different lesson this year than we did last year at this time, during Parashat Chayei Sarah.
And at this particular moment in history, when the world is so filled with violence and alienation and disregard for others, lessons about universal experiences are most urgently needed.
Here, in our verse, the verb is in the piel binyan, which tells us that there is an intensified valence to the verb. Abraham wept deeply for Sarah."
When we study other verses in Tanakh that include this verb, we can start to form a picture of the intensity of the emotion that this verb conveys. It is usually grief, although at times this verb carries a sense of another very intense emotion that likely is suffused with grief.
For example, Esau's heart-rending howl of grief when he realizes that his father Isaac will not bless him:

(לח) וַיֹּ֨אמֶר עֵשָׂ֜ו אֶל־אָבִ֗יו הַֽבְרָכָ֨ה אַחַ֤ת הִֽוא־לְךָ֙ אָבִ֔י בָּרְכֵ֥נִי גַם־אָ֖נִי אָבִ֑י וַיִּשָּׂ֥א עֵשָׂ֛ו קֹל֖וֹ וַיֵּֽבְךְּ׃

(38) And Esau said to his father, “Have you but one blessing, Father? Bless me too, Father!” And Esau wept aloud.

or Jacob's intense grief when his other sons tell him [erroneously] that Joseph is dead:

(לה) וַיָּקֻ֩מוּ֩ כׇל־בָּנָ֨יו וְכׇל־בְּנֹתָ֜יו לְנַחֲמ֗וֹ וַיְמָאֵן֙ לְהִתְנַחֵ֔ם וַיֹּ֕אמֶר כִּֽי־אֵרֵ֧ד אֶל־בְּנִ֛י אָבֵ֖ל שְׁאֹ֑לָה וַיֵּ֥בְךְּ אֹת֖וֹ אָבִֽיו׃

(35) All his sons and daughters sought to comfort him; but he [Jacob] refused to be comforted, saying, “No, I will go down mourning to my son in Sheol.” Thus his father bewailed him.

This verb appears numerous times in Parashat Miketz, toward the end of the Book of Genesis, when Joseph is reunited with his brothers, and shows his intense and complex feelings at this moment:

(כד) וַיִּסֹּ֥ב מֵֽעֲלֵיהֶ֖ם וַיֵּ֑בְךְּ וַיָּ֤שׇׁב אֲלֵהֶם֙ וַיְדַבֵּ֣ר אֲלֵהֶ֔ם וַיִּקַּ֤ח מֵֽאִתָּם֙ אֶת־שִׁמְע֔וֹן וַיֶּאֱסֹ֥ר אֹת֖וֹ לְעֵינֵיהֶֽם׃

(24) He turned away from them and wept. But he came back to them and spoke to them; and he took Simeon from among them and had him bound before their eyes.

(ל) וַיְמַהֵ֣ר יוֹסֵ֗ף כִּֽי־נִכְמְר֤וּ רַחֲמָיו֙ אֶל־אָחִ֔יו וַיְבַקֵּ֖שׁ לִבְכּ֑וֹת וַיָּבֹ֥א הַחַ֖דְרָה וַיֵּ֥בְךְּ שָֽׁמָּה׃

(30) With that, Joseph hurried out, for he was overcome with feeling toward his brother and was on the verge of tears; he went into a room and wept there.

(יד) וַיִּפֹּ֛ל עַל־צַוְּארֵ֥י בִנְיָֽמִן־אָחִ֖יו וַיֵּ֑בְךְּ וּבִ֨נְיָמִ֔ן בָּכָ֖ה עַל־צַוָּארָֽיו׃ (טו) וַיְנַשֵּׁ֥ק לְכׇל־אֶחָ֖יו וַיֵּ֣בְךְּ עֲלֵהֶ֑ם וְאַ֣חֲרֵי כֵ֔ן דִּבְּר֥וּ אֶחָ֖יו אִתּֽוֹ׃

(14) With that he embraced his brother Benjamin around the neck and wept, and Benjamin wept on his neck. (15) He kissed all his brothers and wept upon them; only then were his brothers able to talk to him.

(כט) וַיֶּאְסֹ֤ר יוֹסֵף֙ מֶרְכַּבְתּ֔וֹ וַיַּ֛עַל לִקְרַֽאת־יִשְׂרָאֵ֥ל אָבִ֖יו גֹּ֑שְׁנָה וַיֵּרָ֣א אֵלָ֗יו וַיִּפֹּל֙ עַל־צַוָּארָ֔יו וַיֵּ֥בְךְּ עַל־צַוָּארָ֖יו עֽוֹד׃

(29) Joseph ordered his chariot and went to Goshen to meet his father Israel; he presented himself to him and, embracing him around the neck, he wept on his neck a good while.

This intensity of intense emotion, and of grief, is universal. With this in mind, let's consider Hagar's grief when she and Ishmael, sent out to the desert, have no water and she anticipates her son's death:

(טו) וַיִּכְל֥וּ הַמַּ֖יִם מִן־הַחֵ֑מֶת וַתַּשְׁלֵ֣ךְ אֶת־הַיֶּ֔לֶד תַּ֖חַת אַחַ֥ד הַשִּׂיחִֽם׃ (טז) וַתֵּ֩לֶךְ֩ וַתֵּ֨שֶׁב לָ֜הּ מִנֶּ֗גֶד הַרְחֵק֙ כִּמְטַחֲוֵ֣י קֶ֔שֶׁת כִּ֣י אָֽמְרָ֔ה אַל־אֶרְאֶ֖ה בְּמ֣וֹת הַיָּ֑לֶד וַתֵּ֣שֶׁב מִנֶּ֔גֶד וַתִּשָּׂ֥א אֶת־קֹלָ֖הּ וַתֵּֽבְךְּ׃

(15) When the water was gone from the skin, she left the child under one of the bushes, (16) and went and sat down at a distance, a bowshot away; for she thought, “Let me not look on as the child dies.” And sitting thus afar, she wept deeply.

Notably, this verse from Parashat Vayera which allows us to feel our way into Hagar's maternal experience is, the very first occurrence of this verb in Tanakh. For me, as a student of Torah, the first occurrence of any word carries a special valence.
So the foremother of Islam is shown to us as she experiences the most profound grief... similar to Abraham's grief, Jacob's grief, Joseph's intense feelings.
Can we feel our way to an experience of interconnectedness with others, as we contemplate this?
Consider another example of this verb that has the result of crossing chasms of alienation and changing history:

(ו) וַתִּפְתַּח֙ וַתִּרְאֵ֣הוּ אֶת־הַיֶּ֔לֶד וְהִנֵּה־נַ֖עַר בֹּכֶ֑ה וַתַּחְמֹ֣ל עָלָ֔יו וַתֹּ֕אמֶר מִיַּלְדֵ֥י הָֽעִבְרִ֖ים זֶֽה׃

(6) When she opened it, she saw that it was a child, a boy crying. She took pity on it and said, “This must be a Hebrew child.”

Thus Pharaoh's daughter draws Moses out of the water.
Hannah praying in her heart:

(י) וְהִ֖יא מָ֣רַת נָ֑פֶשׁ וַתִּתְפַּלֵּ֥ל עַל־יהוה וּבָכֹ֥ה תִבְכֶּֽה׃

(10) In her wretchedness, she prayed to GOD, weeping all the while.

The loss of a spouse, the death of a child, infertility... these are universal experiences suffused with grief.
I suggest that in today's fractured world, perceiving and understanding the universality of grief can serve us as a healing factor.
So: if grief is such a deep and universal human experience, why do we have an אות קטנה (ot katan) here? And in particular, why is it that it is the letter kaf that is smaller?
Interestingly, after hours of searching, I have found almost no commentary about this. Most of the commentary I have found on these first two verses in Parashat Chayei Sarah explores the location / setting of Sarah's death, or the difference between eulogizing and mourning.
Most classical commentators who do remark on the smallness of the kaf write that it shows that Abraham's grief for Sarah was somehow diminished. Exemplary of this:

(א)ויבא אברהם לספוד לשרה ולבכותה. כא"ף קטנה לפי הפשט זקנה היתה ולא בכו אותה כל כך:

(1) The small ‘kaf’ is according to the simple meaning. She was old and he didn’t cry all that much.

Somehow, this feels insufficient and dismissive to me. Surely there is more meaning to be extracted here.
A medieval commentator, Jacob ben Asher (c. 1270–1340), also known as the Ba'al ha-Turim, connects the small kaf with material in the Talmud that considers Sarah's death as having occurred as a result of her reaction upon learning of the Akedah (in last wee's parsha), with the idea that in some ways, she brought her death upon herself; I include this commentary for comprehensiveness, and not because I am endorsing it:

ולבכתה כ"ף קטנה שלא בכה אלא מעט לפי שזקנה היתה א"נ שהיתה כמו גורמת מיתתה שמסרה דין ועל כן נענשה היא תחלה והמאבד עצמו לדעת אין מספידין אותו:

The small "kaf" signifies that Abraham cried, but not too much because she was elderly, and also because she caused her own death when she passed judgment for her own deeds onto another (cf. TB Rosh Hashanah 16b) and therefore was punished first, and one does not eulogize someone who dies by suicide.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks connects the small kaf to the verse that follows:

(א) וַיִּהְיוּ֙ חַיֵּ֣י שָׂרָ֔ה מֵאָ֥ה שָׁנָ֛ה וְעֶשְׂרִ֥ים שָׁנָ֖ה וְשֶׁ֣בַע שָׁנִ֑ים שְׁנֵ֖י חַיֵּ֥י שָׂרָֽה׃ (ב) וַתָּ֣מׇת שָׂרָ֗ה בְּקִרְיַ֥ת אַרְבַּ֛ע הִ֥וא חֶבְר֖וֹן בְּאֶ֣רֶץ כְּנָ֑עַן וַיָּבֹא֙ אַבְרָהָ֔ם לִסְפֹּ֥ד לְשָׂרָ֖ה וְלִבְכֹּתָֽהּ׃ (ג) וַיָּ֙קׇם֙ אַבְרָהָ֔ם מֵעַ֖ל פְּנֵ֣י מֵת֑וֹ וַיְדַבֵּ֥ר אֶל־בְּנֵי־חֵ֖ת לֵאמֹֽר׃

(1) Sarah’s lifetime—the span of Sarah’s life—came to one hundred and twenty-seven years. (2) Sarah died in Kiriath-arba—now Hebron—in the land of Canaan; and Abraham proceeded to mourn for Sarah and to bewail her. (3)Then Abraham rose from beside his dead, and spoke to the Hittites, saying,

Judaism is the civilisation that did not die because, despite its respect for and loyalty to the past, it is a fundamentally future-oriented faith. We see this in the Torah in a very pointed way in its description of the death of Sarah. Abraham was then 137 years old. He had just lost the woman who had shared his life’s journey and who had twice saved his life. He might have been paralysed by grief. Yet this is what we read: “Abraham came to mourn for Sarah and weep for her. Then Abraham rose from beside his dead wife” (Gen. 23:2–3): a mere ten words in Hebrew.

Here is what has arisen for me, this past week, as I have been engaging with this one small letter in Parashat Chayei Sarah: my own smallness as I share in the universal experience of grief.
The humbling smallness of any single one of us when we deeply connect with others: when our hands and hearts are open and receptive to the universality of grief - which means: your grief resonates with my grief. We are all someone's child, and many if not most of us are someone's mother or life partner. We have all felt the penetrating intensity of grief.
When we open our hands and hearts and, as Rabbi Kushner taught fifty years ago, when we drink from the cup of humanity that is filled for all of us, we are blessed and we can be a blessing to all with whom we connect.
My grief is no different from your grief. My life is no more or less precious than your life.
My prayer for this moment is that we may all learn from the small kaf at the start of Parashat Chayei Sarah to truly feel others' grief.
My prayer for this moment is that we may all learn from the small kaf at the start of Parashat Chayei Sarah to deeply honors others' experiences of loss.
May we come together as Isaac and Ishmael did to bury their father together. May we learn to study peace.

(ד) וְשָׁפַט֙ בֵּ֣ין הַגּוֹיִ֔ם וְהוֹכִ֖יחַ לְעַמִּ֣ים רַבִּ֑ים וְכִתְּת֨וּ חַרְבוֹתָ֜ם לְאִתִּ֗ים וַחֲנִיתֽוֹתֵיהֶם֙ לְמַזְמֵר֔וֹת לֹא־יִשָּׂ֨א ג֤וֹי אֶל־גּוֹי֙ חֶ֔רֶב וְלֹֽא־יִלְמְד֥וּ ע֖וֹד מִלְחָמָֽה׃ {פ}

(4)Thus [God] will judge among the nationsAnd arbitrate for the many peoples,And they shall beat their swords into plowsharesAnd their spears into pruning hooks:Nation shall not take upSword against nation;They shall never again know war.