Chevron and Yerushalayim Parshas Pinchas

by Ner Tamid | Jul 20, 2025 | Sermons

For the past few years, our shul has conducted an auction on Simchas Torah. Though it was new for our shul, the custom of auctioning honors on Simchas Torah goes back hundreds of years and is fairly standard in many shuls. What is not so standard, and something that I believe is unique to Ner Tamid, is that in addition to auctioning off honors, we also auction off the opportunity to choose a sermon topic for one Shabbos. This year, the highest bidder for choosing a sermon topic was Rabbanit Ahava Schachter-Zarembski.

After Simchas Torah, she told me she purchased it for her son, Meshullam, who is eight years old. Last time a parent bought this opportunity for a child, the sermon topic I was given was Marvel vs. DC, which is a far more controversial topic than I ever realized. So Meshullam comes to my office, we make some small talk, and then I ask him, what should I speak about? I’m wondering to myself which videogames he’s into, maybe he’s a sports fan, maybe fantasy books.

Meshullam says, “Can you please speak about Chevron?”

Chevron the superhero or do you actually mean Chevron the ancient city in Israel?

Yes, Chevron the ancient city in Israel.

Well, Meshullam and his brother and mother are moving to Israel in a little over a week, and so it’s time for me to follow through and give a sermon about Chevron. Are you ready, Meshullam? Here we go.

In 1929, one of the most vicious pogroms took place in Israel. Israel was never a safe place for the Jewish People and every now and then, there were attacks on Jews. But as Zionism gathered steam, the Arab population grew quite nervous about the growth of the Jewish community in the Holy Land. On August 24, 1929, a rumor was spread that the Jewish People were trying to take over the Temple Mount. At 8:30 AM, as many men were making their way to shul for Shabbos morning davening, a terrible massacre began. I will omit the details due to the age of the crowd, but 69 Jews lost their lives that day. There had been a Jewish community in Chevron for over 800 years, but after this massacre every single Jew left.

Rav Avraham Yitzchak Kook was the chief rabbi of Israel at the time. When he heard what was taking place he immediately ran to the British High Commissioner, Sir Harry Luke, begging him to send his troops to intercede. The High Commissioner refused. A few days later, the High Commissioner came to visit Rav Kook and put out his hand to greet him. Rav Kook, who was known to be the most loving and forgiving person, refused to shake his hand, stating that he would not shake a hand covered in Jewish blood. (Rabbi Simcha Raz)

Rav Kook gathered the Jewish community together for a memorial service and shared the following message: “The holy martyrs of Chevron do not need a ‘memorial’ service,” he announced. “The Jewish people can never forget the holy and pure souls who were slaughtered by those murderers and vile thugs. Rather, we must remember and remind the Jewish people not to forget the city of the patriarchs. Am Yisrael must know what Chevron means to us.”

He continued: “We have an ancient tradition:‘Maaseh avos, siman lebanim—The actions of the fathers are signs for their descendants.’ When the weak-hearted meraglim, the biblical spies, arrived at Chevron, they were frightened by the fierce nations inhabiting the land. But Calev quieted the people for Moshe. “We must go forth and conquer the land,” he said. “We can prevail!” (Bamidbar, 13:30).”

Concluded Rav Kook: “Despite the terrible tragedy that took place in Chevron, we hereby announce to the world, ‘Our strength is now like our strength was then!’ We will not abandon our holy places and sacred aspirations. Chevron is the city of our fathers and mothers, of Mearas HaMachpela [where our forefathers are buried] … It is the city of King David —the cradle of our sovereign monarchy.  עוד תבנה—it will yet be rebuilt—Jewish Chevron will be built again, in all its honor and glory!”

For almost 40 years Rav Kooks’ words rang hollow. Despite the rich history of the city dating all the way back to Avraham Avinu, despite the many whose parents lived in that holy city for over a thousand years, Chevron did not have a single Jewish resident. Until 1967.

After the Six-Day War, Chevron was under Jewish control. However, the government and army prevented any Jews from entering the city. Not to be deterred, a woman by the name of Sarah Nachshon could not be held back. She led a group to the outskirts of the city and established a new Jewish city called Kiryat Arba. But this holy and determined woman was not satisfied. So a little while later, she and a group of women and their children slipped into Beit Haddassah, a deserted hospital in Chevron, and refused to leave until the government allowed them to live in Chevron. The government assumed that after a while the women would give up and leave. But they didn’t. And after a full year of living in this hospital, the government relented and allowed for the Jewish community of Chevron to be rebuilt.

While she was leading this sit-in or live-in in Beit Hadassah, Sarah Nachshon gave birth to a son. And she thought to herself, how can I be so close to the burial place of Avraham Avinu, the first Jew to ever have a Bris, and not have my son’s circumcision in Avraham’s burial place, the Mearas Hamachpeilah? Sure enough, their son, Avraham Yedidia, was circumcised in the Tombs of the Patriarchs.

Tragically, a few months later, this son died. Sarah Nachshon was determined to bury the baby in Chevron’s ancient Jewish cemetery. The government adamantly refused. It would cause an uproar among the Arabs living there. The army was instructed to block the road to the Jewish cemetery knowing that she would try to bury her son. Sure enough, she showed up, carrying her deceased infant in a tallis. The instructions from Tel Aviv were to prevent her from going through. But the soldiers refused. And Avraham Yedidia Nachshon was buried by his mother, Sarah, in the ancient Jewish cemetery of Chevron.

Rav Kook was right. It is a city of strength. And it was a city that would ultimately be rebuilt. Sarah Nachshon, following in the footsteps of King David, in the footsteps of Calev, in the footsteps of Avraham, rebuilt the city of Chevron.

But the question is why? That’s Meshullam’s question. Why have Jews always been so obsessed with this city? Why did Sarah Nachshon go to such great lengths to resettle the city? Why did a small population of Jews live in a predominantly Arab city for centuries? Why did King David need to go there to start his monarchy? Why did Calev pray there? Why did Avraham go to great lengths to bury his wife there? You would imagine all of this should have taken place in Jerusalem. Is that not our holiest city? What is the significance of this city of Chevron?

Here’s where we get a little more mystical, so buckle up. The root of the name Yerushalayim is shalom, which means peace and harmony. The root of the name Chevron is chibur, which means joining together. Both cities represent Divine connection, but that’s where the commonalities end.

Yerushalayim’s most famous structure, the Bais Hamikdash, stood atop a mountain. Chevron’s most famous structure, the burial place of our forefathers is a cave, Mearat Hamachpeila, literally the double cave. It’s called a double cave because it is a cave within a cave. One city’s center was open and elevated, the other city’s center is hidden deep under the ground.

Another contrast – We know of the many prayers said in Yerushalayim, by King David, by King Solomon, by Ezra. But in Chevron, there is mysterious silence. Avraham goes there to eulogize his wife, but the Torah makes no mention of what he says. We know that Calev goes there to pray for strength, but his prayer is only subtly alluded to the text and nothing more.

Rav Moshe Wolfson suggests that while Yerushalayim and Chevron are both cities of connection, Yerushalayim represents an overt and tangible connection to the Divine, whereas Chevron represents the hidden connection.

This idea, I believe, is alluded to in a rather strange passage in the ancient Medrashic work, Yalkut Shimoni. It relates how Adam was looking for a place to bury his wife, Eve. He walked by Chevron, and he smelled a smell that he recognized from the past; Chevron smelled like the Garden of Eden. The Medrash tells us that he started digging so he could reach Gan Eden, but an angel made him stop.

This story represents the essence of Chevron. In Jerusalem you would hear the music of the Leviim and see the beauty of the Temple. In Chevron, you would hear silence and stare at a rocky terrain. The angel prevented Adam from digging all the way to Gan Eden, because Chevron is needed to remind us that there is a form of spirituality, I would argue a more elevated form of spirituality, that remains hidden away.

We live in an era of extreme superficiality. Whether it’s social media which filters away our flaws, or it’s the unprecedented materialism that we both enjoy and are overwhelmed by. In a world of so much externality, we crave for something deeper. Most people will tell you the antidote to superficiality is being authentic, being real, saying whatever is on your mind, sharing and over-sharing until there is nothing hidden at all.

But Chevron tells us that is wrong. And I’ll share personally here – as someone who tries to share their inner world with others, you, I will tell you that I often second-guess myself. I do find value in sharing my inner experience but sometimes it leaves me depleted, empty.

We are not supposed to dig all the way to Gan Eden; we need to appreciate the rich spiritual world that lives inside.

Those feelings of intense emotions that you cannot articulate, the small joys that no one else will understand, the deep pain which no one can relate to, the yearnings for G-d and for growth, as fleeting as they may be, Chevron reminds us to savor them, to swish them around in our mind and our heart, to allow them to breathe in their natural hidden habitat. That’s where real spirituality lives and thrives; hidden away. I used to think it was a tragedy that there are parts of us that can never be understood by others. But I was wrong. Chevron teaches us that this part of us, that cannot be shared, is a gift from G-d.

Meshullam, I imagine you chose this topic of Chevron because someone you know quite well embodies these ideas – your mother. Like Calev, she is a fighter and able to hold her own. Like Sarah Nachshon she yearns to live in holiness as difficult as it may be, and that’s why you and your family are making Aliyah. And like the city itself, she has a deep and powerful inner world. We have had the opportunity to learn from your mother – she has given numerous classes in our shul during your short time here. Thank you for giving us a taste of Chevron here in Baltimore. And we wish you so much success in Israel.

We are in the midst of the Three Weeks. It’s a time we mourn for the loss of the Bais Hamikdash, that holy edifice in Yerushalayim, that was destroyed. There is only one ancient building from the times of the Temple that has not been destroyed, and that is – Mearat Hamachpeila in Chevron. Being authentic and ‘putting it out there’ may feel strong, but it’s depleting, and ultimately, it is susceptible to destruction. Our inner world, our precious yearnings and feelings, our Neshama, our hidden connection to G-d, like the city of Chevron, is unbreakable and can never be destroyed.