Pashas Toldos
At the end of Chayei Sarah (25:12), we are told that Yishmael was the son of Avraham. But we are not told there, as we are here at the beginning of Toldos with respect to Yitzchak, that Avraham begot Yishmael. That is because although Yishmael had the same physical DNA as Avraham, he didn’t share the same spiritual characteristics. When Yishmael was born, Avraham was still called Avram. He was not yet the advocate for monotheism that he later became, and in that sense Yishmael was not Avraham’s son.
“Vaye’etar” and Yitzchak pleaded with G-d that the promise of the birth of the Jewish nation would be fulfilled through Rivkah, not through anyone else (25:21).
But Rivkah, like Sarah before her and Rachel after her, was barren and was not physically capable of conceiving a child. For this to happen, a miracle was required that would change the course of nature and turn a barren woman into a child-bearing woman. And so, to simply pray for a child would not do the trick. What was needed was a plea to G-d to do something extraordinary. We are told that the word “vaye’etar” is derived from the word “atar,” meaning a pitchfork, which is used to turn things around. What was needed here was an act of G-d that could turn nature on its head and, with the wave of His wand, turn a barren woman into a pregnant woman.
Why is it that three of our foremothers were barren?
From the time of Avraham, we are told that the Jewish people are aliens on this planet. We don’t belong here. Our very birth was miraculous, and our survival remains a mystery. Avram and Sarai were not capable of having children, because their fate had destined them to be barren. But the Jews are not bound by fate alone. They can change their fate by changing themselves. By incorporating part of G-d’s essence into themselves, by becoming a different person with a name that includes one of the letters of G-d’s name and living in accordance with the Torah, they can defy nature. That is our oxygen tank on this alien planet. If we discard that tank we will perish in accordance with the laws of nature. But if we carry it constantly with us, we can rewrite our own destiny. It is no wonder, therefore, that Yitzchak beseeched G-d for a miracle, for miracles are in the DNA of the Jewish people.
Yitzchak was 40 years old when he married Rivkah (25:20). Why does the Torah tell us his age? The Torah is not there to tell us historic facts unless there is a moral reason to do so.
When Yitzchak was 37 years old, Avraham almost lost him at the Akeidah. That would have rendered void G-d’s promise that Yitzchak would be the progenitor of the Jewish nation, because Yitzchak was not married with children of his own at that time. So, having had such a narrow escape, why did Avraham wait another three years before finding a wife for Yitzchak? The answer is that Rivkah was born only three years after the Akeidah. Yitzchak was destined to marry Rivkah, which is why the Torah uses the words “lo le’isha – a wife for himself.” We find the same word “lo” when the Torah tells us about the first marriage between Adam and Chavah (2:1). Indeed, we are told (Bereishis Rabbah 8:1) that the body of the first human was originally created in the form of man on one side and woman on the other side and then separated to give them both an independent existence. In that sense, there is a woman somewhere out there that already belongs to her man, and one must wait until they can be reunited.
So, G-d listened, and Rivka became pregnant.
But a strange thing happened. Whenever she passed a house of idolatry, her child struggled to get out and join in idol worship. And whenever she passed by a Jewish house of learning, the child also struggled to get out and join in Torah study. What kind of confused child am I giving birth to, she wondered. If it’s a child who is equally drawn to Torah as he is to idolatry. “Lama zeh anochi” – why am I pregnant? Is this the child who will eventually receive the Ten Commandments at Sinai which begin with the words “Anochi?”
She went to consult the prophetic Sages of the house of learning of Shem and Ever.
There are two ways of understanding the future. One way is to wait patiently in the present, try one’s utmost and hope for the best. This approach is best captured by the word “tamim” (to be trusting of G-d, which is how Noach is depicted). The other way is to seek to look into the future with the help of someone with supernatural powers in the category of “doresh el ha’meisim” (Devarim 18:11). Yitzchak took the first approach. He tried his best to educate his son Eisav in the ways of Torah and left the future to G-d. Rivkah took the second approach. She needed to know what the future would bring so as not to squander futile efforts on the present.
And she was told what the future would behold. There was not one confused child within her. There were two very distinct characters inside her representing two very different ideologies. That would never change. There will always be an eternal power struggle between them. Sometimes the younger brother will have the upper hand and sometimes the older brother will. But always, the older brother will serve the younger one. That will be the case even when the older one has the power to subjugate the younger one, for by doing so, he will cause the younger one to mend his ways and return to observing the Torah and the mitzvot which are the guarantors of his survival.