“Acceptance” has become a loaded word in today’s world. We are currently in the time period when many schools are deep into the acceptance process for the next school year. I don’t want to date myself, but I remember a time when schools—all schools—were chalishing for students. Where I grew up, many yeshivos, both in-town and out-of-town, would hold Shabbatons for prospective mesivta bachurim, almost begging them to come.
The same applied to elementary schools. They held open houses and similar events to try to convince parents to send their children to their schools.
Today, in many of our communities, especially those with large Jewish populations, the opposite is true. Whereas heroes like Rabbi Avrohom Abba Freedman and Rabbi Sholom Goldstein of Detroit would knock on doors begging Jewish parents to send their children to a frum school, today’s schools are becoming more and more selective in accepting children because they simply don’t have room—even for the best, most exemplary families.
Yes, I have heard from many that schools are so full that even parents they truly want and would love to accept are being turned away because there is simply no room. That is truly painful.
Now, don’t think this article is going to bash schools for their terrible policies and insensitivity. I will not use this space to accuse schools of sending children and their parents off the derech due to uneven or draconian acceptance policies. I understand, as with so many other complex matters, that you cannot fully appreciate the challenges unless you sit on the side of the desk occupied by the rosh hamosad, menahel, or menaheles.
What I can say, however, is that this season of acceptance comes with a tremendous amount of stress and pain for parents trying to get their little tzaddik or tzadeikes into a school that aligns with their hashkafah. Trying to minimize those feelings of anxiety, hurt, heartache, and rejection is simply insensitive and cruel.
Parents are suffering. Yidden are suffering. Even roshei mosdos are suffering as they are badgered day and night by friends, acquaintances, and donors asking them to “just make this one exception.”
I am not saying that every mosad conducts itself as it should, nor does every parent. Still, let’s not minimize the heartache and trauma suffered by so many of our fellow Yidden.
What a Life!
This idea of “acceptance” in schools got me thinking about another application of the word that may help those undergoing the grueling acceptance process better cope with the difficulties. It may also empower others who are suffering from any form of challenge or heartache to deal with their struggles.
I was thinking about this while contemplating the life of Sarah Imeinu, as we are about to lain Parshas Chayei Sarah.
Let us take a moment to think about what a life she had! The beginning of her married life was extremely challenging. She was married to Avrohom Avinu, who decided to go against the entire world—literally. Just imagine! The entire world is worshiping idols, standing on one side of the aisle, and your husband is the lone person on the other side… aside from you, his wife.
You and your husband. Totally alone. No one is with you.
It is hard to imagine how isolated Sarah must have felt. She had lost her social circle, her friends, e…v…e…r…y…o…n…e! It was just Sarah Imeinu and Avrohom Avinu, all by themselves.
Now, in general, we would think that someone in such a situation might comfort herself with her children, thinking, “Well, at least I have cute kids. They keep me busy and give me nachas.” But not Sarah Imeinu. She had no children. She was an akarah.
Should could have thought to herself, “Ribono Shel Olam, I have done so much for You. I left everything to follow Your ways. We are the only people in the world who know You, recognize Your greatness, and are trying to spread Your message. Is it too much to ask for a child? You give children to idolators—what about me?!”
“The Years of the Life of Sarah Were Equal in Goodness”
Rashi tells us otherwise. Sarah was not like that at all. When the Torah repeats the words, “The years of the life of Sarah,” Rashi says something eye-popping: “All of Sarah’s years were equal in goodness.”
The Sefas Emes asks the obvious question: All her years were equal in goodness? The first part of Sarah’s life was extremely difficult. She had no children. She had to uproot herself with Avrohom and leave Choron and everything familiar. She suffered famine. She was taken by Paroh and later by Avimelech. Is that “good”? Finally, at the end of her life, things did improve. They had a worthy son, Yitzchok Avinu. They were wealthy and had a tremendous impact on society. But how can we say that all the years were equally good?
The Sefas Emes, quoting the Chovos Halevavos, explains the phenomenal quality of Sarah Imeinu. The Chovos Halevavos teaches a concept called middas hahistavus. This middah is about accepting whatever Hashem gives with equality and equanimity. Everything He does should be equally good in your eyes, whether things go well or not so well. If a person accepts everything b’temimus and with gladness, internalizing that whatever they undergo is His ratzon and therefore good, they have acquired this middah.
This is the middah epitomized by Sarah Imeinu. When she faced the nisyonos of poverty and difficulty, she knew that they were from Hashem and therefore good. Likewise, at the end of her life, when things were wonderful, she equally knew that they were good. To Sarah Imeinu, everything was shavim l’tovah. All was for the good.
This, says the Tiferes Shlomo, is the middah of true tzaddikim. No matter what happens, they accept everything Hashem does as being for the good.
A Different Kind of Acceptance
Based on this lesson, if there is one word we should all incorporate into our lexicon, it is “acceptance.”
Acceptance doesn’t necessarily mean expecting everyone to accept us—that every school, acquaintance, and authority figure is obligated to accept us without expectations. No! That is a left-wing concept recently rejected by the electorate.
Acceptance means working on our middas hahistavus, on our internal acceptance that everything that happens is the will of Hashem. It means bending our heads with bittul and saying, “Hashem, I thought something else was good for me, but You are showing me that You know better.”
Acceptance means not fighting against the will of Hashem, but bending our heads and hearts and saying, “Hashem, if it is good for You, then it is good for me!”
That is how Sarah Imeinu lived her entire life.
Yes, when parents bentch their daughters on Erev Yom Kippur or at any other time and say, “Yesimeich Elokim k’Sarah…,” let us all strive to be just a bit more like Sarah. If we can do that, we will have accomplished a lot.
