Parshat Toldot: Dualism and the Sons

 In tribute to Moreinu Harav Yaakov Zvi ben David Arieh Sacks ztl

I'm not one to blow my own trumpet but every now and again, a date comes along and makes me stop, think and consider its importance in my life.  Today (16^th November) was such a date because, until this nightfall, the 29th Cheshvan constituted the fortieth anniversary of the day that I became a man, on 8th November 1980.  The first day that I was eligible to be given my very first Aliyah and my opportunity to make up a minyan.  Forty years ago, yours truly became a 'Bar mitzvah Boy' on Shabbat 29th Cheshvan (which is quite wonderful, because I was born on a Friday night.)

Two days earlier, I had been blessed to recite the first part of my Bar mitzvah Parsha of Toldot at the Kotel, the Western Wall.  It still ranks as one of the most memorable days in my life.  If anything, I appreciate it more now, than on that sunny November morning.  As my ceremony was two days early (due to it having to take place on the Thursday), I was unable to be called up, but it didn't matter.  The ceremony sealed a very special and personal relationship between Jerusalem and me, which, in turn led to a life-long love of the city that lasts to this very day.  I know that as Jews, Jerusalem is embedded in our DNA, but for me, as a result of my Bar mitzvah and the story of how it came to take place, our holy city is so ingrained in my heart to the point that we are simply one and my connection with the city is part of my inner being.

I am under no illusion that one of the factors that must have aided in my parents' decision to take me to Israel for a two-week holiday in the middle of the autumn term was that, as an only child, this would their opportunity to grant me a dream trip.  Had I been one of two or three children, I'm not sure they would have been able to afford it (considering that we spent the first week in a luxury hotel in Tel Aviv and the second in an equally opulent abode in Eilat).  I believe that I have been very blessed and although the life of an only child can at times be quite lonely, it does at least have its advantages as I have never found myself in competition with another sibling. 

If one wishes to view an example of the destructive quality of sibling rivalry, take a look at this week's Parsha which describes the relationship between the Torah's first twins, namely Jacob and Esau. 

The conflict starts in utero:

Genesis 25: (22) But the children struggled in her womb, and she said, “If so, why do I exist?” She went to inquire of the LORD, (23) and the LORD answered her, “Two nations are in your womb, Two separate peoples shall issue from your body; One people shall be mightier than the other, And the older shall serve the younger.” (24) When her time to give birth was at hand, there were twins in her womb.  (25) The first one emerged red, like a hairy mantle all over; so they named him Esau.  (26) Then his brother emerged, holding on to the heel of Esau; so they named him Jacob.  Isaac was sixty years old when they were born.

בראשית כ״ה: (כב) וַיִּתְרֹֽצֲצ֤וּ הַבָּנִים֙ בְּקִרְבָּ֔הּ וַתֹּ֣אמֶר אִם־כֵּ֔ן לָ֥מָּה זֶּ֖ה אָנֹ֑כִי וַתֵּ֖לֶךְ לִדְרֹ֥שׁ אֶת־ה'׃ (כג) וַיֹּ֨אמֶר ה' לָ֗הּ שְׁנֵ֤י גיים [גוֹיִם֙] בְּבִטְנֵ֔ךְ וּשְׁנֵ֣י לְאֻמִּ֔ים מִמֵּעַ֖יִךְ יִפָּרֵ֑דוּ וּלְאֹם֙ מִלְאֹ֣ם יֶֽאֱמָ֔ץ וְרַ֖ב יַעֲבֹ֥ד צָעִֽיר׃ (כד) וַיִּמְלְא֥וּ יָמֶ֖יהָ לָלֶ֑דֶת וְהִנֵּ֥ה תוֹמִ֖ם בְּבִטְנָֽהּ׃ (כה) וַיֵּצֵ֤א הָרִאשׁוֹן֙ אַדְמוֹנִ֔י כֻּלּ֖וֹ כְּאַדֶּ֣רֶת שֵׂעָ֑ר וַיִּקְרְא֥וּ שְׁמ֖וֹ עֵשָֽׂו׃ (כו) וְאַֽחֲרֵי־כֵ֞ן יָצָ֣א אָחִ֗יו וְיָד֤וֹ אֹחֶ֙זֶת֙ בַּעֲקֵ֣ב עֵשָׂ֔ו וַיִּקְרָ֥א שְׁמ֖וֹ יַעֲקֹ֑ב וְיִצְחָ֛ק בֶּן־שִׁשִּׁ֥ים שָׁנָ֖ה בְּלֶ֥דֶת אֹתָֽם׃

We are told at the start of the Parsha that Isaac was forty years old when he took Rebecca as his wife (this being three years after the traumatic episode of the Akeida, the binding on Mount Moriah).  After a tortuous twenty-year wait, Rebecca becomes pregnant and the twins are born, with Jacob literally clutching onto the heel of his brother.

The Hebrew word for a heel is "Ekev" and so Yaakov/Jacob's name is derived from his entry into the world.  It's not the most auspicious start for either boy when you consider that their very first appearance in the Torah refers to their 'struggling' against each other, with Jacob being the hero and Esau the villain.

However, if you look at the Torah, taking the plain (pshat) reading, Esau's notoriety is not as clear-cut as we have been led to believe.  Nevertheless, I held onto the belief until my opinion changed radically after I read a fascinating book in 2015.

In his masterful book 'Not in God's Name', Rabbi Sacks examines the age-old connection between the roots of religion and violence, focusing on the relationship between the three monotheistic faiths of Judaism, Islam and Christianity.  I would strongly recommend this book to anyone who wishes to understand the ancient tensions that, though they have resurfaced in the last twenty years, have been present since the days of Abraham, Isaac and Ishmael.

He posits the concept of 'dualism', where two differing entities work either in harmony, such as the harmonious relationship between the mind and the body or in opposition, where:

"The Children of light were the German nation, more specifically the Aryan race.  The children of darkness were the Jews.  They were the destroyers of evil, the destroyers of Germany, the defilers of its racial purity, corrupters of its culture and underminers of its morale.  Despite the fact that they were less than 1 per cent of the population of Germany, they were said to control its banks, its media and its fate: to be in secret conspiracy to manipulate the world"  (pp 55-56).

This is but an extreme example of dualism in its worst form.  However, using this idea, one can take the view, that in dualism, since there can only be one victor, the other entity must be the vanquished or 'rejected party'.  Rabbi Sacks looks at sibling rivalry in the Torah through the prism of dualism.

Sefer Bereshit/Genesis is replete with such examples.  Gd chooses Abel's gift over Cain's which leads Cain to feel that he has been rejected and as a result, commits the world's first fratricide.  Abraham is told that Isaac will inherit his legacy and his descendants will be as 'numerous as the stars in the sky and sand by the sea'.  Ishmael, though blessed with many descendants will not be privy to this promise.  Now, we have the case of Jacob and Esau who, over the course of the Parsha, grow apart to the point that by the end Jacob 'steals' Esau's blessing from their father and has to run for his life as a result of the deception.  It appears that Jacob has been blessed and by extension, Esau, cursed.

Rabbi Sacks looks carefully at the text and arrives a very different conclusion.  He states that at no place in the Torah does the text state that neither Cain, nor Ishmael nor indeed Esau were rejected by Gd.

On the contrary, if we concentrate on Esau and his descendants and fast-forward a few hundred years, we find the Israelites on the verge of entering the Promised Land under the leadership of Moses.  He is relating how they wished to traverse the kingdom of Edom, the beautiful red mountains that you can see to the east when you visit Eilat.  Moses recalls the following instructions that Gd had previously given to the Israelites:

Deuteronomy 2:

(4) And charge the people as follows: You will be passing through the territory of your kinsmen, the descendants of Esau, who live in Seir.  Though they will be afraid of you, be very careful (5) not to provoke them.  For I will not give you of their land so much as a foot can tread on; I have given the hill country of Seir as a possession to Esau.

Rabbi Sacks comments that:

"something of deep consequence is being intimated here.  The choice of Jacob does not mean the rejection of Esau.  Esau is not chosen, but neither is he rejected.  He too will have his blessings, his heritage, his land.  He too will have children who become kings, who will rule and not be ruled.  Not accidentally are our sympathies drawn to him, as it to say: not all are chosen for the rigours, spiritual and existential of the Abrahamic covenant, but each has his or her place in the scheme of things, each has his or her virtues, talents, gifts.  Each is precious in the eyes of God.” (p.142)

Rabbi Sack's reading of the relationship between Jacob and Esau as well as the other siblings in the Torah is deeply moving.  It focuses on the idea that Gd loves all of his creatures equally and that each of us is as valued and treasured as anyone else.  That we are given different tafkidim, divinely ordained purposes or assignments that we are to carry out is central to our having been given the gift of life in the first place.  It behoves us to ensure that we make the most of the time we are allotted throughout our lives.

As an only child, I did not have to deal with sibling rivalry but at the same time was given other challenges to overcome.  Perhaps, a brother or sister might have influenced me to follow a different path in life which, though just as fulfilling, would not have led me down the roads I took.  Choosing one direction does not mean that we reject another.  We are simply focusing our sights on a different goal.

Being an only child might be the reason why I was blessed enough to become a Rabbinic Graduate of the Judith Lady Montefiore College.  That I had wonderful mentors such as Rabbis Abraham Levy (shlita) and Jonathan Sacks (ztl) is as special to me as the few hours I spent reading the Torah in the early morning sun in front of Judaism's holiest site.

We were all blessed to have the wisdom, insight and deep love bestowed upon us by Rabbi Sacks.  May his words bring us comfort in this extremely challenging time and may we all be blessed by his memory.  Yehi Zichro Baruch.

Shabbat Shalom.

Remembering Rabbi Sacks ztl

How can I accurately describe the emotions I am feeling about the loss of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks?

The truth is that I cannot.

I can only speak from my heart and at this moment, it is broken.

It is shattered in a thousand pieces.

It is aching and crying out into the night.

I woke up this morning at 4.00 am, with Rabbi Sacks on my mind.

In my thoughts.

In my dreams.

I thought about the impact he has had on me personally on a daily, weekly and monthly basis.

From his green Siddur that helps me understand my prayers and his beautiful Machzorim that I use throughout the year, to the A3 binders that store every single ‘Covenant and Conversation’ Dvar Torah dating back to 2013.

Each word therein is a pearl of wisdom.

Each idea a world in itself.

Each lesson a masterclass in erudition.

Each and every week a gift from a thinker like no other.

He is simply ubiquitous in my life.

As I look around my study, my eyes fixate on my Semicha Certificate, the beautifully framed document that proves my validity as a Rabbi and there, on the bottom right-hand side, is the signature of Yaakov Zvi ben David Arieh Sacks – Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks. It is the academic achievement that I am most proud of as Rabbi Sacks was one of the Rabbis who granted me his authorization to join him in his profession. I am allowed to be called a Rabbi because Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks Of Blessed Memory was one of the signatories on my certificate.

When we met at his house nearly two years ago, he asked me in his gentle, loving way to relate some Torah to him. I did as asked and my surrogate father nodded and smiled. My heart melted.

Throughout our house, whenever Rabbi Sacks released one of his priceless videos, whether it was a talk to camera, a recent interview or a TED talk, you could hear his melodic tones filling the air. Either I was listening to it at one point downstairs or Stephnie was sitting in her study upstairs doing exactly the same. We marvelled together at his insight and the wonderful animated films he narrated and thanked Gd that we were living at a time when Rabbi Sacks could speak to us. He was too good to be true.

I was blessed to visit his house a number of times along with my fellow students and be treated to our very own shiur in his dining room. We held onto every word as if it were a raindrop falling onto a parched field or a pearl prized from an oyster and we marvelled at his extraordinary bookcase which held every type of tome that one could imagine. We were enraptured by his presence and we knew that we were the most blessed and fortunate people that could be alive at that precise moment.

Every time Rabbi Sacks received another prize, we held our heads high. He wasn’t just Rabbi Sacks. He was our Rabbi Sacks. Our hero. Our inspiration. Our Rabbi Sacks.

Throughout our travails over the last decades, whether it was trying to understand the mounting attacks in our beloved Israel or more recently, facing Corbyn and Covid, whenever Rabbi Sacks spoke, we knew that everything would work out OK. Because he was Rabbi Sacks.

He knew.

He could articulate our thoughts so clearly, so accurately.

We could never match his style, wit, grace and authority.

We were but pale shadows of this mighty yet exceedingly humble man.

We knew that he would always be our mouthpiece.

And now, he has left us and we do not know where to turn or whom to turn to.

He has left us.

Rabbi Sacks was our prophet and our sage. A king who did not need a crown, a prince amongst all men.

Rabbi Sacks famously said that “Faith is not certainty. Faith is the courage to live with uncertainty”.

At this moment in our lives, we need his courage, his belief and his love for all humanity to give us the strength to continue without him. Thank Gd, he has left us an extraordinary legacy through his extensive writings and broadcasts. Most of all, he has left us with the memories of how we were so blessed to spend precious time in his company.

Gd decided to take our Rabbi on the holiest day of the week, Shabbat, which could not be a more fitting day for a soul to return to its maker. Yesterday, on the day that he passed away, we read Parshat Vayera, where we learn how Abraham and Sarah, the very first Jews (in the general not historic sense of the world) were blessed with the birth of their long sought-after child, Isaac. Yitzchak was the child to whom Avraham was able to pass on his yerushah - his inheritance and his beliefs, his ideas and his monotheistic world-view. Rabbi Sacks felt to the core of his being that the only way to ensure Jewish Continuity was to talk to the young through a myriad of ways including the recent ‘Covenant and Conversation Family Edition’ versions of his weekly missive. That he died on the very Shabbat when we read of our patriarch and matriarch’s blessing is extraordinary.

There are no coincidences in life.

Rabbi Sack’s first name in Hebrew was Yaakov. As we know, Yaakov, Jacob was the father of the twelve tribes, the B’nei Yisrael. Like his namesake, Rabbi Sacks, was also father to our generations. May he be a Melitz Yoshor for us, the Jewish people. May he speak to Gd passionately in defence, on behalf of his people, our people, whom he loved unconditionally.

May Gd protect him in His divine Shadow until the coming of the Mashiach when we will once more be able to meet him again in rebuilt Jerusalem – may it come speedily in our days. Amen.

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Parshat Vayera: 2020 Vision

I decided to check the web's definition of '2020 vision' and the first result that came up could be found on the American Optometric Society's website:

20/20 vision is a term used to express normal visual acuity (the clarity or sharpness of vision) measured at a distance of 20 feet. If you have 20/20 vision, you can see clearly at 20 feet what should normally be seen at that distance. If you have 20/100 vision, it means that you must be as close as 20 feet to see what a person with normal vision can see at 100 feet.’ (www.aoa.org)

Of course, the irony of the phrase lies in the fact that this year of 2020 has been anything but.

I can't recall any period of time that has been so unfocused, unclear and shrouded in darkness. That we are entering another lockdown this week only serves to underscore the point. We have been told that it should end in a month, but how many of us really believe this to be the case?

This week's Parsha of Vayera contains several examples where a person's vision was similarly impacted by external forces.

Firstly, we find Abraham sitting at one of the entrances of his tent in the Elonei Mamre, near Hebron. He wants to offer hospitality to any weary travellers who have been walking through the unremitting desert. He looks and sees three men standing nearby and runs over to them enthusiastically, offering them water to wash the sand off their feet as well as shelter from the hot desert sun. What he thinks he sees is not accurate, for they are indeed angels. He might have believed that he was blessed with ‘20/20 vision’ but ultimately, he only saw an image that Gd permitted him to view.

Shortly thereafter, Abraham, having pleaded with Gd to save the men of Sodom, rises up early the next morning and returns to the place where the conversation had taken place (from whence we derive the idea of reciting the Shacharit prayer in the morning). He looks out towards the cities on the plain and sees the smoke that has risen from their destruction. It is described as the 'smoke of a furnace' - a vision that he would rather not have witnessed.

Later on, Sarah sees Ishmael, the offspring of her husband and maidservant Hagar trying to kill Isaac (Rashi states that he shot arrows at him in an argument over whom would inherit the first-born's portion from their father, Abraham). She subsequently banishes both mother and son to the wilderness of Beer-Sheba to the chagrin of her husband. An action resulting from an event that Sarah had seen and acted upon.

A final example of compromised vision finds Abraham journeying with Isaac to Mount Moriah, having been instructed by Gd to sacrifice his beloved son. The Torah tells us (in Chapter 22.4) that on the third day of the trip, Abraham lifts his eyes and saw the place from afar. Rashi explains that he knows that this is the correct location as Gd had placed a cloud around the summit. One can only imagine the kind of thoughts that are swirling around his head at that very moment. Behind the cloud lies the location where he believes he will be shortly slaughtering the only link that can guarantee the continuation of the nascent nation that will become the Jewish people.

I have cited four examples of how sometimes the visions that our eyes process are not as they should be. The protagonists in all these cases are human beings whose hearts are as pure as can be.

Can one really fault Abraham or Sarah for behaving in the way they did? Abraham sees the travellers and offers them hospitality. He pleads for a city of evil doers to be saved and is faced with the horrific realisation that he has not succeeded in his request. Sodom, Gomorroh and the other cities have been burned to a cinder.

Sarah sees Ishmael threatening her son's life and does what any other mother would and should do, by banishing both the boy and his mother. And finally, Abraham sees the mountain where he believes his son will perish. The gift of vision that has been granted to the very first Jew and Jewess is anything but perfect.

It's certainly not 20/20.

How can we find a way of squaring this circle?

Perhaps the answer lies in the name of this week's Parsha -Vayera?

Genesis 18:1

(1) The LORD appeared to him by the terebinths of Mamre; he was sitting at the entrance of the tent as the day grew hot.

בראשית י״ח:א׳

(א) וַיֵּרָ֤א אֵלָיו֙ ה' בְּאֵלֹנֵ֖י מַמְרֵ֑א וְה֛וּא יֹשֵׁ֥ב פֶּֽתַח־הָאֹ֖הֶל כְּחֹ֥ם הַיּֽוֹם׃

The root or shoresh of the word "Veyera" is ra-ah (ראה), which means 'to see'. As we have learned in the past, Hebrew grammar consists of binyanim or constructs, which means that the root can be conjugated into a number of tenses. 'Vayera' is in the binyan of niphal, the passive tense - 'and He appeared'.

Rashi tells us the following (18.11):

וירא אליו AND THE LORD APPEARED UNTO HIM: to visit the sick man. R. Hama the son of Hanina said: it was the third day after his circumcision and the Holy One, blessed be He, came and enquired after the state of his health (Bava Metzia 86b)

but I believe that in using the same shoresh of ra'ah, the Torah is perhaps teaching us that although something or someone might appear to see one thing, in fact, they are witnessing something completely different. Gd appears to Abraham to enquire about his recuperation, but we aren't told how their conversation proceeded. It is highly likely that Gd's appearance, took place in a vision as referenced by this pasuk from Shemot/Exodus

Exodus 6:

(2) God spoke to Moses and said to him, “I am the LORD. (3) I appeared to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob as El Shaddai, but I did not make Myself known to them by My name, Hashem

Gd appeared but did not make Himself known to them by the four-letter Tetragrammaton

(i.e. yud-key-vav-key)

Gd's appearance, even though obscured by His presence, was beneficial to Abraham as it helped him heal. (Rashi adds that Gd made the sun hotter to enable this to happen and to avoid burdening him with having to host any guests. Abraham's sorrow at not being able to do so, led to Gd sending the angels in the form of humans).

When the angels arrive, they each have their own mission. One's job is to help Abraham heal, another's is to tell Sarah that she will have a child in a year and the third is about to rescue Lot from Sodom. Despite a lack of perfect vision, the outcome of their presence is extremely positive.

Abraham looks at Sodom and presumably knows that had there been but ten good men in the city, it and its neighbours would not have merited such a fate.

Sarah's actions lead to the miracle in Beer-Sheva where both Ishmael and Hagar are saved. Eventually, Ishmael and Isaac make peace as they join together to bury their father.

The Akeidah, the binding of Isaac is a key moment in our nation's evolution and it contains the very first reference to the instrument that will come to define us, namely the shofar (the ram was caught in the thicket by its horns)

We have all been brought up to believe the idea that 20/20 vision is a state that we should all be blessed with. However, often, our vision is not as clear as it could be. We may not see ‘the wood for the trees’ and what we think we see, is not necessarily the case.

As we re-enter the state of lockdown, it is not difficult to become despondent and disillusioned. When we thought we could see a way through the darkness, another cloud blocked out the light. However, just like Abraham and Sarah in this week's Parsha, whose vision was clarified long after they thought they had been able to see properly, we too need to adjust our sights and focus on the positive outcomes of our situation.

The incredible and unceasing work of our NHS friends and family and the efforts of people like Colonel Sir Tom Moore have shown us that human vistas we could have never imagined, have entered into our subconsciousness throughout this pandemic. We have truly seen the very best way that humans can behave towards one another.

We may not have 20/20 vision in the year 2020, but that doesn't mean that we don't see things as perfectly as they may appear. It just takes time to readjust our eyes, appreciate a different kind of view which is just as beautiful.

Different, but no less beautiful.

Stay safe and have a Shabbat Shalom.