Parashat Toldot - In Sheep's Clothing

BS”D

Things are not what they seem. Or rather, as we have seen in the emergent pattern of the Promise and Destiny of Abraham, things continually seem, and we must act as best we can from one set of circumstances to another.

Among the greatest evils in the Gemara are such notions as Anger, Pride, Immodesty, and Flattery. Yet, these – and other equally vile concepts – are not counted among the 613 Mitzvot as Motzvot lo ta’aseh – prohibited actions. Rather, they are called Middot – Qualities. While it is a simple matter for the Torah to prohibit the eating of pigs, snakes and eagles, it is impossible to prohibit human beings from ever becoming angry, from ever falling victim to excessive pride, from ever toadying to someone more powerful than themselves. And further: the Middah itself is seen as evil – the Gemara likens Anger to Idol Worship – but the actions that flow from Anger are categorized simply as Permitted or Prohibited. It is prohibited to abuse one’s fellow – be that other person family, friend, or stranger. Thus we see that the concept of Middot is in many ways more subtle and complex than that of Mitzvot. Mitzvot are tabulated on a checklist of Do’s and Don’t’s, the measure of which is generally immediate and obvious. Put on Tallit and Tefillin, recite morning prayers. Make Kiddush on Friday night, don’t turn lights on and off. Walk to and from Shul on Shabbat morning, don’t turn on the ball game.

But how do we measure Middot? And what effect do they have? On the simplest, perhaps even simplistic level, our Mitzvot are meant to form our Middot. There are numerous passages in the Gemara which praise the performance of Mitzvot because it leads to better action in the world; which praise Torah study because it leads to good deeds, to living the right way.

The ultimate test of the concept of Middot is probably the punishment of Moshe and Aharon. Is it possible that, as human beings, they – even they – had a moment of less than perfect Faith? Is it possible that they, too, fell into Doubt, even if only for a moment? In Parashat Chukat, when Moshe strikes the rock, instead of speaking to it, G-d explicitly tells them (Bamidbar 20:12) they will not enter the Land because they did not believe. While the lack of belief led to an act that was counter to G-d’s command, it is not for the act that they are punished. If the punishment were tied only to the act of striking the rock, then only Moshe would be punished, for it was he alone who struck the rock. But G-d punishes both Moshe and Aharon. Further proof that it is faith that is at issue here, and not merely action, is the key word Ya’an – “Because” – that G-d uses to introduce the punishment. “BECAUSE you did not believe in me…” This word has its origin in the Akeidah, where it announces to Abraham “BECAUSE you listened to my voice…” At issue here is a sense of utter reliance. The inner working of Faith itself.

It also goes to the notion of carefulness in observance. Jews are not permitted to rely on non-Jews in certain matters of Kashrut, not because non-Jews are in some way impure, G-d forbid. Indeed, the Shulchan Aruch specifically permits certain aspects of Kashrut to be handled by non-Jews precisely because they are meticulous about cleanliness. Rather, the non-Jew just can not have the same sense of urgency, of awe, of trembling at the notion that a spoon might have ended up in the wrong sink. To the non-Jew, it is more like the notion of getting extra starch in one’s shirts, when one asked for no starch. You’ll get over it. A person who has not lived in Torah can perhaps never appreciate the love, the passion, and the care that go into each minute action that makes up this awesome relationship. And Moshe is a Levite, Aharon is Kohen Gadol, required to remain in a permanent state of Readiness. No lapses are permitted, alas. Not one.

Bereshit 25:19: “And these are the generations of Yitzhak, the Son of Abraham; Abraham begot Yitzhak.” Rashi comments that Yitzhak looked identical to his father; that Yitzhak was unmistakably the son – the inheritor – of Abraham. What is Rashi telling us?

From a broad perspective, the Parasha begins by establishing a single line. At the end of last week’s Parasha (25:12) we read: “And these are the generations of Ishmael, Son of Abraham, whom Hagar the Egyptian bore – the maidservant of Sarah – to Abraham.” In recounting the descendants of Ishmael, the Torah writes the word “generations” – Toldot – as Taf, Lamed, Daled, Taf. In our Parasha, Yitzhak’s “generations” are spelled Taf, Vav, Lamed, Daled, Taf. In Hebrew orthography this difference is called Defective and Full. The Generations of Yitzhak have something that the generations of Ishmael lack, and while Rashi does not comment on the difference, Biblical commentators generally derive moral lessons from these differences in spelling: words spelled Defectively are read as pointing to a spiritual or moral lack in the people they describe.

And what is Ishmael missing? How is he “defective”? Just like Yitzhak, he is Son of Abraham. Indeed, as we have seen, Abraham considered Ishmael his son, and it took some forcing and convincing on G-d’s part to make Abraham accept that the Destiny and Promise would pass not through Ishmael, but through Yitzhak. The literary contrast in the two Psukim is clear: “And these are the [defective] generations of Ishmael, Son of Abraham, whom Hagar the Egyptian bore – Sarah’s maidservant – to Abraham.” And: “And these are the [full] generations of Yitzhak, Son of Abraham; Abraham begot Yitzhak.” What is defective about Ishmael is his Egyptian mother.

We mentioned last week the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s comment – taken from solid Chassidish tradition – that Sarah represents the body, Abraham the soul. The Soul of Abraham in the Body of Mizraim – it can not work. As we shall see throughout the ensuing narrative, Mizraim is a nation that is focused on the flesh. Indeed, while we may quarrel with Abraham’s treatment of Sarah, his instincts in fearing for his own safety when they went to Mizraim appears sound. And the story plays out through the Yosef narrative, through the narrative of the generations of enslavement, through to the Exodus: Egypt is based on “I take what I see.” The text is telling us that Torah must be combined with Middot. Both are required in combination. Ishmael, great as he is, is destined by birth not to have this combination.

But where will the Promise and Destiny of Abraham belong after Yitzhak?

Unlike both his father and his son, Yitzhak wants his beloved wife to have children. No sooner are they married than Yitzhak goes unbidden to entreat G-d on her behalf. The word used (25:21) va-ye’tar – is derived from the root meaning Shovel. Yitzhak, the Digger of Wells, starts his career by digging deep for G-d’s mercy and grace. And he receives it in double portion.

Rivkah typifies the Torah’s view of women, certainly as expressed in Sefer Bereshit. When she experiences a tumultuous pregnancy, she does not ask her husband or her maidservant what to do – she goes right to G-d and asks “Why am I like this?” A question that expresses neither lack of Faith, nor the presence of Doubt. Rather, like Sarah before her, Rivkah is an Existentialist: she recognizes her own destiny in that of Abraham and his son, and she embraces it. Indeed, she runs to embrace it, for at 24:58, when asked if she wants to tarry a bit with her family before leving to be married to her cousin, she states flatly: I will go. Then, at 2465, as she approaches Yitzhak from afar and sees him for the first time, she covers her own face with her veil before they have even spoken to one another. Covering with a veil is a symbol of a married woman: thus, Rivkah affirmatively marries herself to Yitzhak before the union is formalized.

But to every generation there is a test, a moment when the individual is challenged to bring to bear the training of Torah and Middot, over the desires or comforts or pains of the flesh. And the crux of the test comes early in this Parasha. At 25:23, G-d explains to Rivkah that two nations are within her womb, two peoples will come forth from her belly. Ve-rav ya’avod tza’ir. “And the Elder the Younger shall serve.” This is always translated as: “And the elder shall serve the younger,” but both the grammar and the cantillation are ambiguous. The clause can equally mean: “And the Elder the Younger shall serve,” or: “And the Elder, the Younger shall serve.” It is by no means clear who is the subject of the verb.

And in one sense, they serve one another. Yaakov, it can be argued, serves Esav by taking from him a spiritual responsibility to which he is not equal. Esav – the beloved son of the most loving of the Patriarchs – Esav, who gets a bum rap in all the commentaries, whom the Rabbis of the Gemara were forced to admit is the epitome of the Mitzvah of Honoring one’s Parents. Esav is a jock. An outdoorsman who loves to hunt, then come home to share his catch with his beloved father before retiring to the tent of one or another of his wives. In our time we could easily see him flipping burgers and knockwurst on a grill in the parking lot outside Lambeau Field, a couple of cases of beer in the cooler, a cigar clenched between his teeth as he prepares a sumptuous tailgate feast for dozens of loving friends and relatives. He’d be well liked by all, a pillar of the community. Dependable, straightforward and completely without guile, he would probably own a string of successful car dealerships and be a stalwart of the local Rotary Club or Knights of Columbus. You would definitely feel comfortable buying a car from him.

Torah asks of us an intensity of soul, a moment-to-moment awareness of the nearness of G-d. Torah asks that we constantly be in the state of mind and emotion of one newly fallen in love. Shlomo Carlebach says our love for G-d should be as great as the passion a new lover feels for the beloved, that if someone shakes us awake at night and shouts “Who do you love?!” we should immediately, and without a moment’s thought or hesitation, shout back, “Ha Kadosh Baruch Hu!”

It takes some doing to get there.

The Zohar says Yaakov was tricky, duplicitous. That he dealt with each person on that person’s own terms. This is a common emotional affliction, readily observable in many people today: the emotional need to be liked, coupled with a hypersensitivity – perhaps born of that desperate need – to what makes other people tick. The ability to manipulate other emotionally to the point where they evidence their approval. At 25:29 – the verse on which the Zohar comments – Yaakov yazed… nazid – as the translation has it, he “sod pottage.” The root of this odd word is Zayin, Daled, which gives us Zed – Wicked (as in the blessing in the weekday Amidah: “Who destroys the Zedim.”) It also gives us the concept of Mezid – Premeditated. What did Yaakov do? He “Plotted, he surely plotted” as Hebrew duplicative verbs are to be read. Esav spends his days hunting. It is very predictable both as to when he will return, and in what frame of mind. He has had a good workout, now he wants a cold beer.

Esaz takes one look at the pot of stew and says, “Wow! Can I have a taste?” Yaakov names his price: the right of the firstborn. Esav’s response, by the way, is often mis-read. At 25:32 he is not saying “I am going to drop dead if I don’t eat.” Rather, he is saying “When you’re dead, you’re dead. What’s the ‘birthright’? Something for Posterity? Do they have beer in Posterity? Gimme that pot of soup!” And in verses 33 and 34, we see a rapid-fire string of action verbs: And he swore, and he sold, and he ate and he drank and he arose and he went, and he despised his birthright…” Esav, the man of action.

Why does G-d warn Yitzhak not to go to Egypt in the time of famine? Is it because the Karmic fate of the two nations has already been established by the actions of his own mother and father? Is G-d saying, “Your parents have already messed things up enough. Don’t you go running off too, or Yaakov will be ruined forever.” And in the midst of this comes the beautiful moment where Yitzhak, pretending, like his father, that Rivkah is his sister and not his wife, can’t keep his hands off her. Thinking they are alone, Yitzhak seems to be chasing her under the bushes. And there’s that verb again: he is metzaheq his wife (26:8). Unmistakably, they are husband and wife. Again, the danger Ishmael posed was not that he mocked his baby brother, but that he took such pleasure in showing his affection, and that Yizhak delighted in Ishmael’s open demonstrations of love. This is why Sarah ordered him removed.

Yaakov is a much more complex figure than his own father. Comes the moment to actually take hold of what he connived from his brother, he seems to lose heart. His mother pushes him to it, as though saying This is the moment you have been waiting for. And Yaakov appears suddenly – and a little inexplicably – struck by conscience. Actually, it is only fear. Fear that he will be found out.

In sheepherding societies, certain practices have persisted through millennia. Because they are effective, and because there is simply no substitute for certain natural processes.

Some female sheep and goats have a propensity to give birth to twins. These are highly sought after by herdsmen, because they help sustain the herds. In the case of twin births, it is common that one of the twins will die. Equally common is the death of a female during the birth process. When this happens, the newborn will also die unless it can be fed. Alas, in hircine society, mothers only tend to their own. A newborn kid will only be nrsed by its own mother. Any other female will ignore the newborn, and will actively spurn it if it tries to snuggle or nurse.

The way to save newborns whose mothers have perished is to take the dead twin and skin it, leaving the cuffs of the front and hid legs intact. The pelt is then fitted onto the orphan like a tight-fitting body sweater. Then the kid is shoved under the mother who gave birth to the twins. She smells her own pheremones in the coat of her deceased newborn and mistakes the intruder for her own. She then falls to nursing and caring for the orphan. After a few days, when the mother’s hormones are fully absorbed into the newborn’s system, the coat can be removed, for the orphan has now assimilated its new mother’s smell. Its identity has been changed, and to all outward appearances, the mother never knows.

Truly the Torah speaks the language of humans. And not merely in words and letters of the Hebrew language, but by striking us between the eyes with images so familiar as to have become invisible, until they are cast in a powerful new context.

And now the whole world changes.

When Hevel decided to bring offeringsto G-d, G-d accepted his kids and lambs, meanwhile rejecting Cain’s fruits and vegetables. To win favor, the sons of Yitzhak vie with one another to see who can bring the tastiest – and first – pot of meat stew. The Curse of Cain will work itself through our destiny for many generations to come: the goat that Yaakov used to trick his father and defraud his brother will be echoed in the goat that Yosef’s brothers slay for the blood to mark his coat, the goat that Tamara uses to trick Yehuda into confessing. In both of these narratives, the pairing of goat and garment are the crux of the story, they determine the destiny, not only of the individual, but of Klal Israel.

The first murder takes place over a kid. The destiny of the Jewish people hangs in so many places on a goat. In the Beit HaMikdash, it is a goat that is sent to the wilderness to atone for the sins of the nation.

When Yitzhak blesses Yaakov, it is a real blessing. When Esav comes in, Yitzhak tells him that he has already given his blessing. Now Esav suddenly and at last recognizes what he has lost. Now he cries out. Now, at 27:34, Esav cries out. Va-yitz’ak tze’aqa gedolah – and he cried out a great cry. The word is first used at 4:10 when G-d confronts Cain: What have you done, G-d asks. The blood of your brother cries out to me - tzo’akim elai – from the earth. Clearly, we are bound to a powerful Karma. This part of our destiny will require a great Tikkun – a repairing, a healing. An atonement. If for nothing else, we must cling to Torah and work on Middot.

Yours for a better world.