The Most Important Real-Estate Deal

ParshaRx: Chayei Sarah

The first Jewish real-estate deal wasn’t just an investment in property — it was an investment in eternity.

In Parshat Chayei Sarah, Avraham buys Me’arat HaMachpelah — the Cave of Machpelah — to bury Sarah. Even though Ephron the Hittite offered to give it to him for free, Avraham insists on paying full price. And the Torah gives us every detail of that negotiation.

It’s not really about land — it’s about faith, hope, and knowing what is truly valuable.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, of blessed memory, wrote:

“Avraham’s purchase of the Cave of Machpelah was the first act of faith that death is not the end of life.”

Avraham wasn’t investing in property — he was investing in eternity. And that single act changed the way Jews view life, death, and what it means to be whole.

Through my years of working in hospice, I’ve witnessed that same faith. I’ve sat beside people as they took their final breath and felt the peace that comes when a soul leaves the body like a whisper. And I’ve sat with their loved ones. Those who believe there’s more than just this world often meet the end of life with greater peace.

Faith settles the mind and the body. It tells the nervous system: you are safe. The Torah said it thousands of years ago; neuroscience is finally catching up — showing that purpose, meaning, and hope quiet the brain’s alarm system and restore safety to the body. Faith, embodiment, and safety are woven together.

And that truth doesn’t just matter at the end of life — it matters every single day of our lives. So much emotional distress comes from thinking this is all there is — that we are our bodies, our pain, or our struggles. But when we remember that we are both body and soul — that our bodies are sacred vessels for holiness, created by God so we can bring heaven down to earth — we live with more peace and less despair. When body and soul work together, anxiety softens, resilience grows, and we are able to live full, vibrant lives.

The Torah actually commands us: “Venishmartem me’od lenafshoteichem” — “You shall guard your lives very carefully.” Maimonides teaches that caring for our health is part of serving God. And from Tzelem Elokim — knowing we’re made in the image of God — we learn that honoring the body is honoring the Divine spark within us.

Taking care of our bodies isn’t selfish — it’s spiritual. And it’s essential for mental health. When we live in harmony with our bodies, our nervous systems calm, and the soul feels safe inside its vessel.

And in this parsha, Avraham teaches us to care for the body even after death. This mitzvah is called a chesed shel emes — the truest kindness — because the person we’re doing it for can never repay us. It’s a kindness that echoes through generations.

We feel that connection every time we stand at the graves of our ancestors. These are not places of sadness — they’re places of presence, where heaven and earth still meet.

And Baruch Hashem, this week, the body of Hadar Goldin — a young IDF soldier who was killed defending Am Yisrael in 2014 — was finally returned for burial in Israel. For ten years his family and the Jewish people prayed, advocated, and waited with emunah, steadfast faith that his body would come home. His return reminds us that the body is holy — that every soul, and every vessel that carried it, deserves to rest in holiness and peace. That’s why we won’t rest until we bring back the bodies of every single hostage, so they too can have a proper Jewish burial — like Sarah, our foremother.

When the Torah speaks about burial, it doesn’t describe endings — it describes planting. The Prophet Daniel says, “Those who sleep in the dust will awake.” Burial is planting for the future. Cremation breaks that rhythm; burial fulfills it. It says to the soul: You are free to rise.

As Rabbi Benjamin Blech shows us in his beautiful book Hope Not Fear: Changing the Way We View Death, when we see death through the lens of hope instead of fear, we begin to live more fully. We stop clinging in panic to what’s temporary, and we find peace in knowing that there is more than meets the eye and that the soul’s journey continues.

Several years ago, I took a group of women on a Momentum trip to Israel. A few months later, one of them — who affectionately called me her Jewish coach — became very ill. During one of our conversations she said, “Hey Coach, I want to understand what happens when we die.” I suggested we read Rabbi Blech’s Hope Not Fear. She said she needed it in audio form because she could no longer see well enough to read. But it wasn’t available in audio — so I recorded every chapter for her, one by one. Word got out, and soon those recordings were being shared far and wide. I still get requests to share them with people who are facing their own losses.

This woman — who by then had become a dear friend — assumed she would want to be cremated. But through our conversations, through learning, faith, and a lot of Divine Providence, she merited to have a proper Jewish burial — an act of hope, not fear.

This message is so important that my friend and colleague Robyn Meyerson has dedicated her life to spreading it. Visit peacefulreturn.org to learn how burial makes sense on many levels — even ecologically!

Because caring for the body in life and honoring it in death are two expressions of the same faith — the faith that every life, every vessel, no matter what that vessel looks like, carries holiness and purpose.

ParshaRx:

Your body is not who you are — but it’s how your soul gets to be here.

Treat it with care. Love it, and live fully in it.

And at 120 years, when its work is done, return it gently — with love, with reverence, and with faith in forever.

Because we are not buried to disappear.

We are planted to return.

Shabbat Shalom.

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Looking to learn more? Doron Kornbluth’s book, Cremation or Burial? is a great resource - https://www.amazon.com/Cremation-Burial-Jewish-Doron-Kornbluth/dp/1937887014

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