This week we read about the great efforts of Abraham’s servant, Eliezer, to find a match for his master Isaac (Genesis 24:1–67). All along, Eliezer carried a quiet reluctance in his heart. He hoped the match with Rebecca would fail because he had a daughter and wanted Isaac to marry her.

Eliezer was a devout servant, and his reluctance never diminished his zeal and devotion to his task. He threw himself into it wholeheartedly. Yet at one point, his private feelings slipped out unintentionally. The Torah, a book of truth, caught it.

When Eliezer recounted his journey from Canaan to Mesopotamia, he explained that Abraham had sent him to find a match for Isaac. He related that he asked Abraham what to do if the girl refused to return to Canaan. Abraham replied that in that case, Eliezer should return home and Isaac would marry a girl from Canaan.

Our sages noticed a subtle change in the spelling of a word, which clued them into Eliezer’s true feelings. Eliezer reported that he had asked Abraham, “Perhaps the girl won’t want to come back with me.” The Hebrew word for perhaps is ulai. In Hebrew, vowels are sometimes indicated by letters rather than vowel markings. The letter vav, when used as a vowel letter, is silent. Here, that vav is missing, allowing the word to be read as elai, meaning “to me.” From this, our sages inferred that Eliezer hoped the girl would refuse so that Isaac could marry his daughter and Eliezer himself could become part of Abraham’s family.

Rabbi Eliyahu of Vilna finds another clue in Eliezer’s choice of words. He did not ask what would happen if the girl refused to come. He asked, “Perhaps she won’t want to come.” This phrasing suggests that Eliezer was not merely contemplating the possibility but hoping for it. (Kol Eliyahu, Chayei Sarah 22.)

Cursed and Blessed
No matter what Rebecca might have decided, Abraham had already turned Eliezer down. Our sages tell us that Abraham did so in no uncertain terms. He told his elderly servant, “You are cursed, and I am blessed, and the cursed can’t be attached to the blessed” (Bereishit Rabbah 59:9).

Let’s unpack these words: Abraham was a descendant of Sem, who was blessed by his father, Noah. Eliezer was a descendant of Ham, whom Noah cursed (Genesis 9:25–27). Abraham was telling Eliezer that he descended from the cursed lineage, while Abraham descended from the blessed one, and their children could not be joined in marriage.

An obvious question: This sounds like a terrible way to couch a refusal. Eliezer was not merely Abraham’s elderly, loyal servant; he was his primary spokesperson. Abraham taught Eliezer Torah, and Eliezer shared Abraham’s teachings with the masses. Why would Abraham respond so harshly to a man so devoted to him and to the dissemination of his teachings?

Abraham was not necessarily insulting Eliezer personally or accusing him of deliberate wrongdoing. He was pointing to Eliezer’s ancestry and the influence it could carry. Still, the language is striking.

Another point: The Torah is a book of instruction. What was Abraham teaching Eliezer, and through him, all subsequent generations, including us today?

To Me
Allow me to suggest that the fault with Eliezer’s proposal lay in its formulation. Is it not strange that the wish that slipped out of his mouth was that Isaac would come “to me” rather than “to my daughter”?  Eliezer was not going to marry Isaac; his daughter was. Why did he speak about himself?

This little detail may help us unravel Abraham’s response. Eliezer might have been more concerned with joining Abraham’s family than with whether Isaac and his daughter were a good match.

As a devoted student and servant, Eliezer yearned to draw closer to his master. Nothing could have been more fulfilling or spiritually rewarding than becoming a true member of the family. Eliezer was not seeking prestige or filling a hole in his ego. He was altruistic through and through. If Abraham shared so much Torah with his servant, how much more might he share with him as a member of his family? How much more could Eliezer learn from his illustrious master if their families were joined?

While this was certainly an admirable desire, it was not the right place for it. Eliezer, who had gone out of his way to determine that Rebecca was the right match for Isaac, should have known better. A marriage should not be arranged for the sake of the families or to advance the parents’ goals and motives.

In the ancient and medieval worlds, marriages were often arranged to forge alliances between countries and powerful, wealthy families. Eliezer’s motives were far nobler, but he, too, hoped that a marriage would deepen his own bond with Abraham. His daughter’s marriage risked becoming a means to achieve his personal aspiration, rather than a decision centered on the couple.

The Ancestor’s Sin
Let us go back and recall what Ham did to incur his father’s curse. When he saw his father naked after the flood, he worried that his parents might have more children to repopulate the world. He reasoned that if Adam’s two children could not coexist without one killing the other, how would three brothers learn to coexist? And what would happen if a fourth brother joined them? (Genesis 9:20–24; Rashi ad loc.)

There would be chaos, he reasoned, as each brother’s share of the inheritance shrank from a third to a quarter. To prevent this and preserve the larger share he greedily wanted for himself, Ham castrated Noah.

Ham was cursed because he treated his father as a means to achieve his end. He did not see Noah as a human being who would be maimed forever. He did not see the father who had loved him, cared for him, and devoted himself to his survival. He saw an obstacle and removed it. He objectified his father to achieve his own goals.

All these generations later, Eliezer was doing something similar. His motives were far nobler, and his actions were much purer, but the underlying tendency was comparable. He was placing his own aspiration above the interests of the people whose lives he hoped to merge.

Perhaps Abraham recognized in Eliezer’s words an expression of the very trait associated with Ham’s lineage. This may explain the otherwise harsh language of his response. Abraham was not belittling his devoted servant or suggesting that he could not be trusted. He was explaining why this match could not work: the influence of Ham’s cursed lineage was manifesting itself in Eliezer’s wish to make his daughter’s marriage serve his own relationship with Abraham.

Abraham’s household was marked by kindness, generosity, and empathy. Eliezer himself sought these qualities for Isaac in Rebekah. Yet in this exchange, Abraham may have recognized that Eliezer’s own desire, however sincere, was competing with the selflessness that should guide matchmaking.

Our father Abraham taught us a valuable lesson. Never be a matchmaker who views the matches you make as notches on your belt. The marriages you help create are not for your prestige and satisfaction. They are for the couple whose happiness you help bring about. When we remember that, we stand a better chance of bringing lasting joy to the families we serve.