Parashat HaShavua - Toldot

In what ways do our bodies absorb and reflect our life experiences, including the trials we endure? “When Yitzchak was old and his eyes were too dim to see,” we are told, “he called his older son Esav” / וַיְהִי כִּי־זָקֵן יִצְחָק וַתִּכְהֶיןָ עֵינָיו מֵרְאֹת וַיִּקְרָא אֶת־עֵשָׂו  בְּנוֹ הַגָּדֹל.” (Gen. 27:1) While at first it is not apparent why we are told about Yitzchak’s sight impairment, later we learn why: his poor eyesight enables Rivkah and Yaakov to deceive him into believing he is Esav, causing Yitzchak to give Yaakov the firstborn’s blessing. The question arises, however, because Yitzchak would live another sixty years, why was his sight already dim?

The midrash teaches that the reason can be traced back to Yitzchak’s experience of being bound on the altar by his father: “When Avraham our patriarch bound his son on the altar, the ministering angels wept… Tears fell from their eyes into his eyes, and they had an effect on his eyes. When he grew old, his eyes dimmed / שֶׁבְּשָׁעָה שֶׁעָקַד אַבְרָהָם אָבִינוּ אֶת בְּנוֹ עַל גַּבֵּי הַמִּזְבֵּחַ בָּכוּ מַלְאֲכֵי הַשָּׁרֵת… וְנָשְׁרוּ דְּמָעוֹת מֵעֵינֵיהֶם לְתוֹךְ עֵינָיו, וְהָיוּ רְשׁוּמוֹת בְּתוֹךְ עֵינָיו, וְכֵיוָן שֶׁהִזְקִין כָּהוּ עֵינָיו.” Another relates to what Yitzchak might have seen in his near death experience; his dimmed sight was “a result of that sight: when Avraham our patriarch bound his son on the altar, Yitzchak directed his eyes heavenward and looked at the Divine Presence / דָּבָר אַחֵר, מֵרְאֹת, מִכֹּחַ אוֹתָהּ הָרְאִיָּה, שֶׁבְּשָׁעָה שֶׁעָקַד אַבְרָהָם אָבִינוּ אֶת יִצְחָק בְּנוֹ עַל גַּבֵּי הַמִּזְבֵּחַ, תָּלָה עֵינָיו בַּמָּרוֹם וְהִבִּיט בַּשְּׁכִינָה.” (Gen. Rab. 65:10) 

Modern commentaries understand this blindness more figuratively. As expounded in the book Sipurei Reishit edited by Tanya Tziyon, they see it as one of Yitzchak’s defining character attributes. (p. 354) For example, according to Burton Visotzky, Yitzchak was blind to his son Esav’s shortcomings throughout his life. In fact, the decision by Yitzchak to give Esav the first blessing followed immediately after we learn that Esav and his wife were “a source of bitterness to Yitzchak and Rivka / וַתִּהְיֶיןָ מֹרַת רוּחַ לְיִצְחָק וּלְרִבְקָה.” (Gen. 26:35) Yitzchak is also blind to his wife’s understanding that Yaakov is their true legacy. (Visotsky, Reading the Book, p. 127)

All of which led me to wonder: do we see this sort of carryover in others from early challenges to later events in their lives? The answer, it seems to me, is yes. Think back to the direct communications from God to Avraham: the command to “go forth / לֶךְ־לְךָ֛” requires him to leave his home; the destruction of Sdom and Amorah brings with it the specter of innocent victims; “take your son / קַח־נָ֠א אֶת־בִּנְךָ֨,” the binding of Yitzchak. Is it any wonder that Avraham perhaps reaches his limit for God’s calling? And so when the moment finally arrives for Avraham to hear good news from the heavens, his attention is hard to get. His name is called twice – “Avraham, Avraham / אַבְרָהָ֣ם | אַבְרָהָ֑ם!” – and on top of that the communication is from an angel and not directly from God, also perhaps in recognition of Avraham’s reluctance to hear from God again.

Finally, the same thing can be said about Yaakov. He runs from home after deceiving his father, and then his ability to run is taken from him when the angel he encounters “touched the socket of his hip, and the socket of Yaakov’s hip became dislocated as he wrestled with him / וַיִּגַּ֖ע בְּכַף־יְרֵכ֑וֹ וַתֵּ֨קַע֙ כַּף־יֶ֣רֶךְ יַֽעֲקֹ֔ב בְּהֵאָֽבְק֖וֹ עִמּֽוֹ.” (Gen. 32:26) After that, “Yaakov settles down / וַיֵּ֣שֶׁב יַֽעֲקֹ֔ב” (Gen. 37:1), and subsequently must rely on Yosef to find his other sons, with tragic results; must rely on their deceitful report of what happens without being able to check himself; and must rely on them to go to get food in Egypt. The body he uses to betray his father ends up betraying him.

What meaning can this have for us today, at a time of war, overwhelmed by a wave of complex challenges and emotions? In the first place, perhaps, to be intentional about what we see, what we hear, how we choose to engage in confrontation (or not). Knowing our limits, and being forgiving of ourselves – and others – for having them. And then understanding that what we experience now will stay with us. Let this not be a source of frustration or disappointment in ourselves; rather, let us gain inspiration from our ancestors, and comfort that we are linked in a tradition of people who feel, and remember, and endure.

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Jack Nahmod
Middle School Judaic Studies Head
Rabbinic Advisor