The Powerful Legacy of Jewish Women

The Israeli women who suffered on October 7 endured unspeakable terror at the hands of terrorists—they were degraded, raped, murdered, mutilated, and then, tragically, disbelieved by many. Unlike Sarah, our biblical foremother whose son Isaac was spared at the binding on the altar, these women were forced to witness the ruthless and barbaric slaughter of their husbands and children. Their harrowing ordeal compels us to confront the depths of human cruelty and to find strength in the resilience embodied by Sarah, our enduring matriarch and spiritual guide.

This week’s Torah portion, Chayei Sarah—“The Life of Sarah”—begins not with Sarah’s life but with her death. The paradox is deliberate and profound. It teaches that only at life’s end do we fully recognize the courage, kindness, and quiet deeds that shape a person’s true legacy. Our enduring impact resides far more in our eulogy virtues than in our résumé accomplishments.

Sarah never possessed a résumé in any conventional sense, yet she is revered precisely because she responded to life’s fiercest trials with unwavering faith and resilience. Rabbi Ari Soussan highlights the difference between résumé virtues—the skills, credentials, and achievements we parade before others—and eulogy virtues, which reveal who we truly are: devoted spouses, compassionate parents, generous givers, and people who lift others up. A wise friend puts it simply: “No one on their deathbed wishes they had worked more; they regret the time not spent with loved ones.”

Each of us carries an internal ledger with two columns. One is the résumé column—what King Solomon called “vanity” in Ecclesiastes—the pursuit of wealth, power, and status that ultimately fades into emptiness. The other is the eulogy column—humility, gratitude, service, and faithfulness to the Almighty. Our mortality demands we ask: Are we chasing fleeting pleasures, or are we building a meaningful legacy—becoming a mensch—a person of integrity whose presence improves the world?

Of course, we must work, build careers, and care for our families, but the danger lies in living to work instead of working to live. Happiness is not found in titles or bank accounts but in giving of ourselves generously and faithfully. Self-absorption may offer momentary thrills, but it never delivers lasting fulfillment.

Sarah’s 127 years were defined by extraordinary courage and devotion. She trusted God’s promises despite years of infertility. She supported Abraham’s journey into the unknown. She opened her tent with boundless hospitality. She navigated painful family conflicts with dignity. She risked her own safety to protect her husband. Through every hardship and triumph, Sarah remained steadfast.

Her legacy shines as a beacon to those who face unimaginable suffering—like the Israeli women who endured the October 7 terrorist atrocities. It teaches us that faith, strength, kindness, and love transcend tragedy and even life itself. These qualities define the human spirit at its best and provide the resilience needed to carry on through the darkest times. Sarah’s life and the tragic courage of these women remind us to cultivate the enduring virtues that truly matter—the ones that make a life well-lived and a legacy that transcends time.