S.A.L.T. – PARASHAT CHAYEI SARA

By Rav David Silverberg

Motzaei

            Commenting to the opening verse of Parashat Chayei Sara, which tells that Sara lived for 127 years, Rashi, based on the Midrash, writes, “At one hundred [she was] like twenty with regard to [innocence from] sin…and at twenty [she was] like seven with regard to beauty.”  Rashi’s comments have been subject to considerable discussion, particularly concerning the question of why Rashi speaks of age twenty as an age characterized by innocence, and seven as characterized by beauty.  Indeed, some commentators noted different versions of this Midrashic passage which correspond to our intuitive associations of these different stages of life.

            Regardless, from a more general standpoint, Rashi clearly speaks here of a certain consistency in Sara’s life, that from childhood through old age, she retained certain qualities that are ordinarily associated with specific stages of life.

            Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik zt”l elaborated on Rashi’s comments in one of his published lectures (Shiurei HaRav, pp. 120-125).  He explains that different aspects of religious life require different strengths and qualities, some of which are, ordinarily, unique to certain ages.  Talmud Torah, for example, requires what Rav Soloveitchik called “a mature mind,” a developed intellect as well as the boldness, self-confidence and skepticism needed to sharply analyze and scrutinize texts and concepts, and to dispute the conclusions of other scholars.  By contrast, Rav Soloveitchik noted, prayer requires a feeling of helplessness, absolute dependence and lack of confidence.  In Rav Soloveitchik’s words:

The adult, proud mind, the genius, is not admitted into the sanctuary of prayer.  Prayer…is generated by despairing.  Prayer is surrendering… The only one who knows how to pray is the infant.  The infant realizes that his existence is dependent on someone else.

            Likewise, faith requires childlike innocence.  We must accept and trust in God’s authority regardless of any rationale and reasoning.  Rav Soloveitchik explained that faith “requires suspension of judgment and suspension of logic,” adding, “You must act even though you may not understand,” just as Avraham was prepared to obey the command of the akeida even though it defied all logic.  This blind, unquestioning obedience is characteristic of young children, not mature, skeptical, intellectually aggressive adults.

            This, Rav Solveitchik explained, is Chazal’s intent when describing Sara’s life of consistency.  She fused the different qualities and characteristics required for a complete, integrated life of spiritual excellence.  Even as a young child, she was intellectually mature, self-confident and courageous, and even as a grown woman, she was innocent and unquestioning.  She lived a life of balance, delicately but masterfully merging together the various opposing qualities that combine to make a person the complete servant of God.

            Rav Soloveitchik beautifully described this fusion in Sara’s life, and the lesson that emerges for her descendants:

Torah requires manhood and maturity, childhood and innocence.  Sara was at 100 like at 20.  At the same time full of vigor and yet mature and resolved…

What kind of person is the covenantal man and woman?  He has an awareness of greatness and at the same time an awareness of helplessness.  And this is the biography of Sara.  Throughout her whole life, she was seven, she was twenty, and she was one hundred.  We, too, must merge these qualities together and form the perfect being.

(See also Rav Dovid Gottlieb’s discussion of Rav Soloveitchik’s analysis.

Sunday

            The opening verse of Parashat Chayei Sara informs us that Sara’s life spanned 127 years, and this verse concludes by summarizing, “shenei chayei Sara” (“[these are] the years of Sara’s life”).  Rashi, noting that this phrase seems unnecessary and redundant, writes, “Kulan shavin le-tova” – “They were all equally good.”  The Torah added this conclusion to allude to the fact that all the years of Sara’s life were “equally good.”

            Many writers have addressed the question of how Rashi could make such a statement.  If we review the story of Sara as told in the Torah, we will find that she – like all people – experienced a fair share of “ups and downs” over the course of her life.  She was childless for many years, saw her maidservant conceive immediately upon marrying her husband, was twice abducted by foreign rulers, endured famine and instability, and ultimately – according to the Midrash cited by Rashi (23:2) – died upon learning that her  son was nearly sacrificed.  Can we really say that all her years were “equally good”?  Is it not clear that she went through several difficult periods?

            One possible answer is that Rashi here uses the word “tova” (“good”) in reference to Sara’s perspective, and not to an objective assessment of her life.  Without question, Sara endured hard times, difficult challenges and moments of frustration.  And yet, her years were all “equally good.”  From the perspective of a devoted eved Hashem, who sees every situation and circumstance – including life’s frequent hurdles and challenges – as opportunities to serve one’s Creator, the years were all good.  As someone for whom personal needs and wants were secondary in importance to her spiritual mission, Sara considered all her years good, as they were all spent in faithful devotion to the Almighty.

            Rav Eliyahu Baruch Shulman suggested that this quality of Sara may help explain an otherwise enigmatic story told in the Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 58:3) about Rabbi Akiva.  Once, as he lectured, he noticed his audience growing drowsy.  In an effort to reenergize the students, Rabbi Akiva noted that the number 127 appears not only here, as the number of years of Sara’s life, but also in the beginning of Megilat Ester, which tells that Achashveirosh’s empire consisted of 127 provinces.  Rabbi Akiva told his students that Queen Ester – a descendant of Sara – ruled over 127 provinces just as our matriarch lived for 127 years.  Many commentators struggled to explain the connection between Sara’s lifespan and Ester’s rise to royalty in Persia.

            Rav Shulman suggested that Rabbi Akiva sought to draw a parallel between Ester’s self-sacrifice as queen and Sara’s ability to view all hers years as “equally good.”  Ester heroically put her self-interests aside for the sake of her people.  She could have ignored Haman’s edict, which would not have affected her under the guise of a gentile Persian queen.  But when the Jews faced annihilation, she risked her life by coming before the king in an ultimately successful attempt to intervene and rescue them.  Rabbi Akiva perhaps associated this self-sacrifice with Sara’s quality of relegating personal concerns to secondary status, focusing instead on higher, loftier goals and ideals.  Sara felt content throughout her life despite her personal troubles because her primary point of focus was devotion to God.  It is this same perspective that, many generations later, led Ester to put her self-interests aside on behalf of Am Yisrael.

            Rabbi Akiva delivered this message in the hope of awakening his audience from their slumber.  He sought to inject vigor and enthusiasm in the students by reminding them of the primacy of our religious pursuits over less, mundane concerns.  By recognizing the centrality of Torah and mitzvot in the life of a Jew, of the primary stature that we must afford to our spiritual goals, they would awaken from their lethargy and commit themselves to their studies with greater intensity and passion.

Monday

            Toward the end of Parashat Chayei-Sara, we read of Avraham’s death and burial.  The Torah writes, “His sons, Yitzchak and Yishmael, buried him” (25:9).  Rashi, based on the Gemara (Bava Batra 16a), comments, “From here [we may infer] that Yishmael repented, and allowed Yitzchak to walk in front of him.”  The fact that the Torah mentions Yitzchak before Yishmael in this verse indicates that Yishmael gave deference to his younger brother at Avraham’s funeral, and allowed him to walk ahead during the procession.  This deference shows that Yishmael had repented at some point before his father’s death.

            The obvious question arises, why does Yishmael’s deferential treatment of Yitzchak demonstrate that he repented?  Is it not possible for a wicked man to allow his brother to walk first, particularly in this instance, where Yishmael was the son of a maidservant, whereas Yitzchak was the son of Sara’s primary wife?

            The Maharal of Prague, in his Gur Aryeh, suggests that the wicked naturally feel enmity toward the righteous, and so had Yishmael still been sinful, he would not have shown any respect or deference to his pious brother.  Chazal therefore concluded that Yishmael must have repented and become a virtuous person, for he would otherwise not have given Yitzchak any respect.

            We might also suggest that the Gemara refers here to Yishmael’s repentance for one particular offense.  Earlier, in his commentary to Parashat Vayera (21:9), Rashi cites a comment from the Midrash that Yishmael asserted his status as Avraham’s heir, and thus as the inheritor of Eretz Yisrael.  Despite being the son of Avraham’s maidservant, he insisted that as the older brother he is legally considered the rightful inheritor.  Possibly, when the Gemara speaks of Yishmael’s “repentance,” they refer to his recognition of Yitzchak as Avraham’s rightful heir.  Yishmael had sinned through his insistence, by refusing to accept the unfavorable reality that his younger brother was his father’s successor and heir.  Years later, at Avraham’s funeral, Yishmael displayed humility and maturity, resigning himself to the fact that his younger brother was entitled to the status he coveted.

            If so, then Yishmael’s repentance should perhaps inspire us as an example of accepting unfortunate realities that cannot be changed.  Yishmael likely considered it unfair that his younger brother earned inheritance rights, but, at a certain point, he accepted his secondary status.  We, too, often find ourselves in less-than-desirable circumstances over which we have no control.  Yishmael’s example perhaps teaches us to accept these realities, rather than harboring ongoing resentment and allowing them to deny us a sense of fulfillment and contentment in life.

Tuesday

            We read in Parashat Chayei-Sara of Avraham’s marriage after Sara’s death to a woman named Ketura (25:1).  Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch, in his commentary, notes that Avraham’s remarriage should come as no surprise given the importance of marriage in our religious tradition:

That Abraham married again is not so surprising when we remember that he lived thirty-five years longer after Sarah’s death, more than the average length of married life nowadays.  Apart from that, our sages teach that a man is not “whole” without a wife, the task of a human being is at all times too great to be able to be fully accomplished by one person alone.

            Regarding the identity of Ketura, Rashi famously cites the comment of the Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 61:5) that “Ketura” is actually another name for Hagar, Sara’s Egyptian maidservant whom Avraham had married and who bore Yishmael.  Avraham had sent Hagar away, together with her son, as God commanded him (21:12), and now, according to Rashi, he brought her back and remarried her.  Rashi here follows the Midrashic tradition he cited earlier in his commentary (to 24:62) that Yitzchak met his bride, Rivka, when he had gone to find Hagar and bring her back to his father.

            Other commentators, however, including the Rashbam, Chizkuni and Ibn Ezra, make a point of noting that according to the peshat (straightforward reading of the text), Ketura was a different woman.  Ibn Ezra draws proof to his position from the fact that the Torah later (25:6) speaks of Avraham’s pilagshim (“concubines”), in the plural form, indicating that he had more than one concubine.  It stands to reason, Ibn Ezra contends, that this verse refers to Hagar and Ketura, who were two separate women.

            Indeed, the Midrash Tanchuma (8) attributes the theory identifying Ketura as Hagar to the minority view of Rabbi Yehuda Ha-nasi, noting that according to the majority view among the Sages, Ketura was a different woman.

            This is also the view taken by the Yalkut Shimoni (Iyov 903), which adds an insightful comment into the significance of Avraham’s three marriages.  The Yalkut notes that Sara, who was Avraham’s niece, descended from Noach’s son Shem, whereas Hagar, an Egyptian, originated from the line of Cham, Shem’s brother, from whom the Egyptian nation developed (see Bereishit 10:6).  And Ketura, according to the Yalkut, was a descendant of the third son of Noach, Yefet.

            It thus emerges that over the course of his life, Avraham married and begat children from descendants of all three families from whom all of mankind descends.

            Rav Asher Brander (http://www.kehilla.org/parsha-reflections-1/chayei-sarah-5769-avraham---something-for-everyone) explains the significance of Avraham’s marriages as it emerges from the Yalkut.  When God first spoke to Avraham, he promised, “ve-nivrekhu vekha kol mishpechot ha-adama” (12:3), which is generally translated as, “all families on earth will be blessed through you.”  The Rashbam (28:14), however, interprets the word “ve-nivrekhu” as a reference to “grafting,” indicating that all families on earth will somehow mix and be connected with Avraham.  According to the Yalkut, it seems, this blessing was fulfilled through Avraham’s marriages into all three families that descended from Noach after the deluge.

            Rav Brander concludes by noting how this insight should affect the way we look upon all people, and the world in general:

It may take a few thousand years, but the notion that there is a piece of Avraham in every human being, means that hope, and pining for a connection to the Master of the Universe springs eternal; for beyond the pintele yid [the little spark of Jew], there is a pintele Avraham resident in every neshama, waiting to be ignited, to fulfill the words of the prophet: “For then will I turn to the nations a pure language, that they may all call on the name of the Lord – to serve him as one” (Tzefanya 3:9).

Wednesday

            Parashat Chayei Sara begins with the death of Sara at the age of 127.  The Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 58), commenting on this event, cites a verse from Tehillim (37:18), “Yode’a Hashem yemei temimim ve-nachalatam le-olam tiheyeh” – “The Lord knows the days of the innocent ones, and their portion shall be everlasting.”  According to the Midrash, this verse refers to Sara, who, in the words of the Midrash, was “temima be-ma’aseha” (“innocent in her actions”).  The Midrash then cites a seemingly peculiar remark made by Rabbi Yochanan in this context: “like this perfect calf.”  Rabbi Yochanan compared Sara’s “innocent” nature to that of a simple animal grazing in the field.

            Rav Yehuda Amital zt”l noted that Rabbi Yochanan’s comment seems to underscore Sara’s quality of simplicity, as the word “temima” indeed often connotes.  Sara is compared to an ordinary, unblemished animal in the pasture, that goes about its normal routine as it should, without any fanfare but also without causing any unusual trouble.

This depiction, Rav Amital observed, appears to contradict a different, more famous, Midrashic passage (Tanchuma, Shemot 1, and elsewhere), which comments that Sara’s level of prophecy exceeded that of Avraham.  The Midrash draws this conclusion from the fact that God instructed Avraham to accede to Sara’s demand that he send away Hagar and Yishmael (21:12).  How could Rabbi Yochanan describe Sara as “simple,” as ordinary as a young bull grazing in the fields, if she achieved a higher level of prophecy than Avraham?

            To this, Rav Amital said, we might add yet another question: how could Chazal claim that Sara attained a higher prophetic stature than Avraham?  God spoke to Avraham on numerous occasions, issued commands, and made promises of greatness, yet He not once spoke directly to Sara (save, perhaps, for 18:15, where God may have spoken critically to Sara, though this depends on the different interpretations of the verse).  To what quality do the Sages refer when they speak of Sara’s prophetic stature that exceeded that of her husband?

            Rav Amital zt”l boldly suggested that Chazal refer here not to Sara’s actual power of prophecy, but rather to her general closeness to God which she achieved through simple, basic intuition.  Specifically because of her simple, straightforward nature, Sara is described as having achieved a greater level of closeness with the Almighty than her husband.  In the narrow sense, Avraham was certainly a greater prophet than Sara, but Sara’s innocence and simplicity enabled her to see things that her husband couldn’t.  When she saw Yishmael taunting Yitzchak, she sensed with basic, ingrained instincts that Avraham must take the drastic and unfortunate measure of sending away his son and maidservant.  Avraham disagreed, but, despite his great intellect and great prophetic stature, God instructed him to obey Sara.  And so the Sages comment that Sara was greater than Avraham – not in intellect, but in her instinctive, sixth-sense intuition into the proper response to difficult situations.  Rav Amital explained (as summarized by a student):

The Sages in the Midrash teach us that regarding this kind of “prophecy” – the ability to determine what is proper and desirable in a simple, straightforward way, without particular sophistication – Sara was greater than Avraham.  Indeed, Avraham was greater than Sara intellectually and, in fact, spoke with the Almighty far more often, but when it came to simple common sense, Sara was greater than him.  Thus, in order to draw close to the Almighty, one need not necessarily be a prophet or great scholar.  Even a simple, innocent person, who is attentive to the whisperings of his heart and the emotions that surface within him, can draw close to the Almighty.

Rabbi Yochanan emphasized Sara’s quality of “temimut” to underscore the value and importance of basic, simple common sense and intuition.  As important a role as knowledge and sophistication play in Torah life, we must also recognize the value of plain and simple innocence, of exercising simple reasoning, logic and common sense in making our decisions and charting our path through life.

Thursday

            Parashat Chayei-Sara tells of Rivka’s selection as a wife for Yitzchak.  Before Rivka leaves her home in Aram Naharayim to travel to Canaan and marry Yitzchak, her family grants her a blessing: “Achoteinu at hayi le-alfei revava” (“Our daughter – you shall produce thousands of ten thousands” – 24:60).

            Tosefot in Masekhet Ketubot (7b) cite Masekhet Kalla as pointing to this verse as the source for birkat eirusin, the berakha traditionally recited at a wedding, just before the act of kiddushin (betrothal).  After discussing the possible implications of this inference, Tosefot conclude that Masekhet Kalla cited this verse as an asmakhta – a subtle allusion in the Biblical text to a halakha enacted by the Sages, and not as the actual source of this mitzva.

            The Rishonim famously debate the question of how to classify this berakha.  The Rambam writes in Hilkhot Ishut (3:23): “Whoever betroths a woman…must recite a berakha before the betrothal…just as a beraka is recited over all the mitzvot, and then he betroths.”  It clearly emerges from the Rambam’s presentation of this halakha that he viewed birkat eirusin as a birkat ha-mitzva – a blessing recited before the performance of a mitzva.  He writes explicitly that a groom recites this berakha “just as a berakha is recited over all the mitzvot,” indicating that the birkat eirusin is no more or no less than the berakha recited over the mitzva of marriage.  Just as one recites a berakha before donning tefillin, for example, one also recites a berakha before performing the mitzva of getting married.

            The Rosh, however, disagrees.  He claims (Ketubot 1:12; Tosefot Ha-Rosh, Ketubot 7b) that birkat eirusin does not serve the purpose of a birkat ha-mitzva, but rather to give praise to God for making Am Yisrael sacred through the restrictions of arayot (forbidden relationships).  For one thing, the Rosh claims, there is no mitzva of kiddushin (betrothal) per se.  The mitzva at hand is that of procreation, and kiddushin is merely a necessary preliminary stage to fulfilling that mitzva.  Thus, for example, the Rosh adds, if a man marries a pilegesh (concubine) – a marriage the does not require formal kiddushin – and produces children with that woman, he bears no obligation to marry a woman with kiddushin.  Necessarily, then, he argues, the Sages could not have instituted a birkat ha-mitzva over betrothal, which does not constitute a mitzva.

            The Rambam, of course, disagreed with this assumption, and maintained that betrothing a woman fulfills a mitzva.  Indeed, in his well-known comments in the opening section to Hilkhot Ishut, the Rambam explicitly classifies marriage – with kiddushin – as an independent mitzva, separate and apart from the obligation to procreate.  He similarly lists marriage as one of the Torah’s 248 affirmative commands (Sefer Ha-mitzvot, asei 213).

            The Rosh also proves his theory from the text of the birkat eirusin, which differs significantly from the standard, succinct format of birkot ha-mitzva.  Rather than simply stating, “Blessed are You…who sanctified us through His mitzvot and commanded us to betroth a woman,” which would follow the usual structure of a birkat ha-mitzva, in the birkat eirusin we elaborate on the concept of arayot:  “Blessed are You…who sanctified us through His mitzvot and forbade us with regard to the arayot, and forbade for us betrothed women, and permitted for us those who are married to us through chupa and kiddushin…”  The Rosh notes that birkot ha-mitzva simply mention the mitzva which we are about to perform; they do not mention any prohibitions associated with the mitzva.  Before slaughtering an animal, for example, the shochet simply recites, “Blessed are You…who sanctified us through His commandments and commanded us with regard to slaughtering.”  This berakha does not elaborate on the prohibition against eating food without slaughtering, the way birkat eirusin speaks of the prohibitions against illicit marriages and against relations with one’s betrothed bride before the marriage is completed.  If birkat eirusin were a birkat ha-mitzva, the Rosh argues, then the text would be formulated according to the standard structure of birkot ha-mitzva.  He thus concludes that in this berakha we give praise to the Almighty for the unique level of sanctity bestowed upon Am Yisrael as expressed through the prohibitions against illicit relationships.

            As a possible defense for the Rambam’s position, Rav Asher Zelig Weiss (Minchat Asher, Parashat Chayei Sara) suggested that the text of birkat eirusin refers to the two effects of kiddushin.  The act of betrothal renders the bride forbidden to all other men, and, additionally, assigns her the status as designated for the groom.  This berakha expresses the first component by declaring, “…and commanded us with regard to the arayot and forbade for us betrothed women” – referring to the fact that the bride becomes forbidden for others.  The berakha then says, “and permitted for us those who are married to us,” referring to the bride’s designation as the groom’s bride.  According to this reading, Rav Weiss suggests, the berakha may indeed be classified as a birkat ha-mitzva, as it describes the precise characteristics of kiddushin.  (Rav Weiss concedes, however, “Akh be-emet peirush zeh nir’eh dachuk” – that this reading seems far-fetched.)

Friday

            Yesterday, we noted the berakha that Rivka received from her family before leaving home to marry Yitzchak – “Achoteinu at hayi le-alfei revava” (“Our daughter – you shall produce thousands of ten thousands” – 24:60).  Masekhet Kalla, as cited by Tosefot (Ketubot 7b), pointed to this verse as the basis for, or at least an allusion to, the halakha of birkat eirusin, the berakha recited at a wedding just before the act of kiddushin (betrothal).  As we discussed, there are different views among the Rishonim regarding the nature of this berakha.  The Rambam describes birkat eirusin as a birkat ha-mitzva, a berakha recited over the mitzva of getting married.  The Rosh, by contrast, dismisses this view, and claims that birkat eirusin falls under the category of birkot ha-shevach (blessings of praise), as it gives praise to the Almighty for the sanctity which He bestowed upon Am Yisrael as expressed through the halakhic institution of marriage.

            This question yields several important ramifications, including the issue of who in particular bears the obligation to recite the birkat eirusin.  Although it is customary for the officiating rabbi to recite this berakha, this practice is generally assumed to have originated out of the concern not to embarrass a groom who is incapable of reciting the berakha.  Fundamentally, it is the groom who should recite this blessing, but the custom developed for the rabbi to recite the berakha on his behalf.  The question remains, however, whether – in principle – the bride is also obligated to recite this berakha.  Meaning, does the rabbi recite the berakha specifically for the groom, or for both the bride and the groom?

            Seemingly, this question would hinge on the debate between the Rambam and the Rosh.  If we classify this berakha as a birkat ha-mitzva, then the obligation would, presumably, apply only to the groom, as only he bears the formal halakhic obligation of kiddushin.  However, if we approach birkat eirusin as a birkat ha-shevach, a blessing of praise and thanksgiving expressing gratitude to God, the bride would likely bear no less an obligation in this regard than the groom.  In fact, we might even say that everyone witnessing the kiddushin is obligated to recite this berakha, as the sight of kiddushin requires praising the Almighty for sanctifying our nation through this institution.  Accordingly, the rabbi recites the birkat eirusin on behalf of both the bride and groom, and perhaps even on behalf of everybody assembled for the wedding ceremony.

            A practical expression of this question is a discussion of the Noda Bi-yehuda (Tanina – E.H. 1) concerning a case of a deaf groom.  The rabbi clearly cannot recite the berakha on behalf of the groom, since the groom cannot hear the berakha and thus cannot fulfill his obligation through the rabbi’s recitation.  Perhaps, however, the rabbi should recite the berakha on behalf of the bride.  If the bride is also obligated in birkat eirusin, then the rabbi should certainly recite the berakha on her behalf, whereas if the berakha is assigned only to the groom, as the berakha refers to the mitzva of kiddushin, then no berakha is recited in such a case.  (This assumes that the groom, for whatever reason, is unable to personally recite the berakha; otherwise, he should recite the berakha himself.)  This point was made by Rav Herschel Shachtar, as cited by a student (Beit Yitzchak, vol. 28, pp. 420-421).

            Rav Shachtar added that the conventional protocol at weddings would seem to indicate that the accepted view is that of the Rosh, viewing birkat eirusin as a berakha of praise, and not a birkat ha-mitzva.  For one thing, it is customary for the bride and groom to both drink some wine after the rabbi recites the birkat eirusin over a cup of wine.  The bride and groom do not recite the berakha of “borei peri ha-gefen” over the wine, and instead rely on the berakha which the rabbi recites over the wine just before reciting the birkat eirusin.  This practice appears to demonstrate that we follow the view that both the bride and groom bear the obligation to recite birkat eirusin and fulfill their obligation through the rabbi’s recitation.  Otherwise, the bride would likely have to recite “borei peri ha-gefen” before sipping the wine.  If she is not obligated in birkat eirusin, then, from her perspective, the rabbi’s recitation of birkat eirusin after the berakha of “borei peri ha-gefen” would constitute a hefsek (interruption) in between the berakha over the wine and her drinking.  Since she is not obligated in birkat eirusin, its recitation has no place in between the berakha over the wine and her drinking, and would thus constitute an interruption necessitating her recitation of a new berakha.  The fact that she may rely on the rabbi’s berakha over the wine seems to prove that she, too, is required to recite birkat eirusin and fulfills this requirement through the rabbi’s recitation.

            Furthermore, Rav Shachtar noted, it is accepted that the rabbi recites birkat eirusin even at a wedding of a bride and groom that are not observant and do not necessarily believe what is stated in the text of the berakha.  A basic halakhic principle establishes that one can recite a berakha on behalf of another, and the listener can thereby fulfill his obligation, only if the listener indeed listens attentively and has in mind to fulfill his obligation.  Seemingly, then, a berakha recited solely for the sake of a person who has no interest in the berakha would constitute a berakha le-vatala (berakha recited in vain), and would thus be forbidden.  The fact that an officiating rabbi recites birkat eirusin even if the bride and groom do not understand or pay attention to the berakha would seem to indicate that the rabbi recites the berakha for himself.  Since birkat eirusin is, according to the accepted view, a birkat ha-shevach, it applies to everybody witnessing the event, and thus the berakha may be recited even if the bride and groom do not fulfill their requirement through the rabbi’s berakha, as they do not listen or pay attention to the berakha.