Impact (Vayetzei)

The second verse of this week’s parsha begins “Va'yiphgah Bamakom, and he [Yaakov] came upon the place. . .” (28:11). If you are reading the parsha in English, this language may not seem strange, but the word va'yiphgah is actually a bit odd. In fact, if one were to look the root pey gimmel ayin in a Hebrew dictionary, one would find a strange assortment of translations, ranging from encountering someone to being hurt or struck. (Indeed, in modern usage, a piguah is an unexpected attack.)

The implication of the word yiphgah in the context of encountering someone is that of an unexpected meeting. It is what we today might call “bumping into someone,” which explains how it can also mean being hurt. There is an element of impact to the meeting.

Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch actually brings this idea by stating that the phrase Va’yiphgah Bamakom “cannot simply mean he chanced to come to a place…[it] never mean just a meeting, but always a meeting where the one makes an important impression on the other. Hence it is also used for the intentional going to meet with weapons, or to make a request, to attack or to urge. So that here, too, it must have been a place to which he had been meaningfully attracted and held.”

The rest of the chapter of the text describes Yaakov making a pillow of stones for himself, going to sleep and dreaming of angels travelling up and down a ladder that stretches to Heaven. This is followed by a promise of Divine protection. Until this moment, Yaakov has been Yitzchak’s son. And while he has secured the birthright and received his father’s blessing, this is his first direct encounter with Hashem and the moment when it seems fully determined that he can be the heir to the blessings of Avraham and Yitzchak. Certainly, this fulfills Rav Hirsch’s understanding of the place having a striking impact upon Yaakov!

The words of the Torah are written for all generations, and I cannot help but think that the term yiphga has its own resonance in our own time. Yaakov’s arrival at the place of his dream has an impact on the entire history of the Jewish people and therefore the world. Yaakov wakes from his dream and recognizes the holiness of the place and vows that if all that he has dreamt really does come to pass then he will accept God as his Divine Master - which is what happened.

How often are we in our own lives given an experience that could and should impact us, but we allow the opportunity to build our connection with Hashem to dissipate. Perhaps we can learn from this section of the Torah that when we encounter an unexpected moment or place of holiness, we must grab on to it and let it make a lasting impact upon us.

The History Lesson That Never Ends (Parsha Toldos)

Although it is a basic tenant of traditional Judaism that there are no words wasted in the Torah, many of us can recognize certain passages that we glance over because they seem simple or too familiar. One such is the narrative of Isaac and Rebecca travelling to Gerar - perhaps because it is the third iteration of “my wife is my sister” - and the detailing of the activity around wells being dug by Isaac’s servants. It is all the more easily passed over as it is sandwiched between the exciting narratives of the sale of the birthright from Esau to Jacob and the drama of Isaac’s blessings to his sons.

But the events are not without significance, and, like all of the Torah, this section has an impact even unto our generation. After their full identity as a family was discovered, “Avimelech commanded all the people saying: ‘He that touches this man or his wife shall surely be put to death’” (26:11). Then Isaac settles and grows wealthy, which seems to cause a chain reaction: “The Philistines became jealous of him. And all the wells which the servants of his father had dug in the days of Avraham his father, the Philistines had closed them up and filled them with earth. Avimelech then said to Isaac: ‘Go away, for you have become much greater than us’” (26: 14-16). Isaac accepted Avimelech’s request, left the city and continued to be harassed. He dug a well and the Philistine herdsman - not the men of the city who had seen him grow wealthy - claimed it as their own. This happened twice, and then “he moved away from there and dug another well, and over that they did not quarrel” (26:22).

Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch, writing with his 19th century perspective, commented thus on the Philistine hostility: ...How the envy and jealousy of the nations who find the Jews well-to-do....send them out of their countries – may form not the least of God’s method for our salvation. Who can tell how easily Isaac, in the hustle and bustle of managing his great wealth, and in the prominent civic position he won through it, might not have given himself up to it more than would be seemly for the son of Abraham and the nearer of his spiritual heritage, had not the jealousy of the Philistines driven him again into isolation...

The message Rabbi Hirsch was communicating is clear. It’s one we have seen replayed over and over throughout our generations. A nation invites us in or welcomes Jewish settlement, but when we get too comfortable or wealthy...then we are not only expelled, but all that we have done that has benefited that nation is forgotten or credited to others.

It would be lovely if this was a new thought, but it was hard to look at this week’s parsha and not think about anti-Semitism and the uncertain times we are facing right now where every other Jewish social media article is about the anti-Semitism on both sides of the political spectrum. And yet, the fate of our people to be subjected to the trauma of national rivalry is not only in the parsha in Isaac’s dealings with Gerar, but both at the beginning and end of the parsha as well.

Parshas Toldos opens with Rebecca conceiving twins who struggle so fiercely in utero that she seeks Divine guidance on her troubles. The response she receives is that: “Two nations are in your womb. Two separate people shall issue from your body. One people shall be mightier than the other, and the older shall serve the younger” (25:23). This is the first prophecy of the national rivalry to come.

At the end of the parsha, Isaac gives his sons the following blessings:

To Jacob: “Let peoples serve you, and nations bow down to you. Be lord over your brothers, and let your mother's sons bow down to you. Cursed be every one that curses you, and blessed be every one that blesses you” (27:19).

To Esau: “And by your sword shall you live, and you shall serve your brother; and it shall come to pass when you shall break loose, that you shall shake his yoke from off your neck” (27:40).

Once again, national rivalry is predicted.

In a recent online conversation in a more political group, a poll was taken asking what members believed was responsible for the recent increase in anti-Semitism. The answers were all political - ranging on both sides of the spectrum. Perhaps the answer is far less simple. Anti-Semitism is so nonsensical, so hypocritical, and so ceaselessly pervasive that it can only chalk it up to Divine plan ... Trying to intellectually dissect anti-Semitism leads to madness.

Our great ancestors did not know that they were setting a pathway for history - if they had they could not have functioned as human beings. But we have the tools to look back and see how the world has been structured. When the people of Gerar and the herdsmen of Gerar acted from envy and jealousy, Esau and Jacob were not small children. They were with their parents. They were witness to the actions of the world, and who knows what lessons Esau learned from their actions about how to win, how to acquire, and how to drive an enemy away. These are the tools his descendants use to bring themselves to ascendance. While we are dealing with the rage of Ishmael (a subject for another time), we are seeing Esau struggling to remind us what happens when we do not live up to our precious birthright blessing.

Bringing Opposites Together (Chayei Sarah #1)

When my husband and I were dating, we often joked about certain parts of our personalities that made us different. I was the “Capricorn” (Hebrew month of Tevet) to his “Cancer” (Hebrew month of Tammuz), which we most often saw defined as head-over-heart and heart-over-head. In many ways we were an excellent case of “opposites attract.” Similarly - sort of - the courtship story of Isaac and Rebecca, which begins in this week’s parsha and continues next week, is about a Divine pairing of opposites. It is also a narrative from which our current society can learn a beautiful and important lesson.

Of the three patriarchs, Isaac is the one about whom there is the least text in the Torah. He is a man of steadiness. Unlike Abraham, his father, and Jacob, his son, Isaac made no grand journeys. The furthest he travelled was to Gerar, a city where his parents had already made an impact. Isaac was the son of a man known for his acts of chesed, loving-kindness, and a woman renowned for her wisdom and modesty. His persona is of an introvert, focused on preserving his father’s legacy. Holding onto a traditional path, he wanted to pass what he had on to his eldest son. Isaac is considered in Judaic texts to be the embodiment of the middah of gevurah, inner strength.

Rebecca, on the other hand, is a woman of movement and change. The daughter of an avaricious con man (according to the Midrash), she did not let her family’s corruption hold her back. Nor did traditions constrain her. When a man (Eliezer) spoke to her at the well, she immediately responded, provided him with water, and brought water for his camels. She doesn’t hesitate to follow Eliezer to marry a man she’s never met. When her twins fight within her, she demands an answer why, and when she sees a need to correct the path of events (who should receive the blessing) she takes action to correct it.

It seems that Isaac is head-over-heart and Rebecca is heart-over-head. This is significant because their union brought about the creation of Jacob, who is known as the embodiment of tiferet, splendor - a blending of gevurah and chesed that leads to emes, truth.

After the terrible tragedy in Pittsburgh this past week, there was a tidal wave of finger-pointing articles. Perhaps in the wonderful union of Isaac and Rebecca we can learn a lesson that will bring people together. From the bringing together of Isaac, a conservative, and Rebecca, a liberal, the splendor of truth could be born, and from the man of truth came the Jewish nation, whose purpose is to be a holy nation and light unto the world.

In the wake of tragedy - may our people have no more - let us be inspired by Isaac and Rebecca and come together as the family that we truly are.