Parashat Toldot, Genesis 25:19-28:9

Sponsored by Joi (Guttman) Young, in memory of her late husband Stephen Guttman.

We must realize that there is a limit to what we can provide for our children.

Like father, like son? Not necessarily. Isaac is the most enigmatic patriarch. He's the Biblical equivalent of the quiet kid in school, the one who always sits in the back, never raises his hand, and rarely speaks. Much of what occurs to him will seem familiar. Similar events happened to Abraham, or will happen to Jacob and be covered there in greater detail. Even this week's parashah, Toldot, which begins by telling us that this is the story of Isaac, quickly shifts focus to his sons Esau and Jacob, and their tale of birth, birthright and blessings.

Isaac is the center of attention in only one chapter: Genesis 26. Once again, the tale appears familiar. There is a famine in the land similar to the famine that occurred in Abraham's time, but there is a twist. While Abraham was told to go to Egypt, and Jacob and his family will also make their way to Egypt during a famine, Isaac is told to stay in the land. Isaac is the patriarch who is tied to the land that God promised our ancestors, and he finds great success in the land. Isaac sowed in that land and reaped a hundredfold the same year. (Genesis 26:12). This is the same man who spends his time walking in the field (Genesis 24:63). His love of the land may explain his preference of his older son, Esau who is called an ish sadeh, a "man of the field" (Genesis 25:27)

As with his father before him, God makes a covenantal promise to Isaac: That night the Lord appeared to him and said, "I am the God of your father Abraham. Fear not, for I am with you, and I will bless you and increase your offspring for the sake of My servant Abraham." (Genesis 26:24)

What an interesting way for God to make a connection with Isaac. Certainly the connection as the God of your father Abraham is understandable. But what is to be made of the blessing that Isaac will receive for the sake (ba-avur) of My servant Abraham? Even if he has spent his whole life sitting quietly at the back of the class, shouldn't attendance alone count for something? And we know that Isaac has been through a lot more than just sitting at the back of the class. His presence at the akedah (binding) should certainly count in his favour. Yet, God clearly states that Isaac will be blessed for the sake of his father Abraham, God's servant.

God's introduction to the patriarchs is very telling. When Jacob has a vision at Beth El, God identifies the Divine Self as: I am the Lord, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac (Genesis 28:13). Wait a minute; shouldn't that be your father Isaac? Jacob seems to think so; on his way back home he prays, O God of my father Abraham and God of my father Isaac (Genesis 32:10). In old age, Jacob relates his father Isaac to God yet again. When blessing his son Joseph, he speaks of God before whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac did walk (Genesis 48:15). Only in the book of Exodus does God self-identify as the Lord God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob (Exodus 3:15).

All these descriptions evoke relationships, those between God and the patriarchs, as well as those between the patriarchs and their ancestors. When Jacob leaves home, he is following in Abraham's footsteps; it makes sense to point out the relationship to your father Abraham. Twenty years later, he heads back home and includes his father Isaac in the prayer. Isaac is the one who always dwelled in the land of Canaan. At this point, as well as when he blesses his grandsons, Jacob understands the experiences of both of his predecessors, having himself now lived through similar experiences inside and outside the land. Similarly, Moses is told to mention all three patriarchs to the people of Israel, who are about to begin their journey back to the home God promised them, the land that Isaac never left.

Beyond this, tradition describes the mention of God's relationship with the patriarchs as zechut avot, the "merit of the fathers." This means that God will deal kindly with us not because we deserve it, but because our ancestors merited it. Such is the midrashic explanation as to why we were redeemed from Egypt. We didn't deserve it, but because our ancestors merited it, we were redeemed (Exodus Rabbah 1:34). The concept of zechut avot made its way into our daily prayers. The first blessing of the amidah, the Avot (fathers, ancestors), mentions God remembering our ancestors' deeds and redeeming us because of them. In the Talmud, Tractate Shabbat 89b goes one step further, claiming that on the Day of Judgment we will be redeemed specifically because of Isaac who is called "our father." On the High Holy Days we remind God of the merits of our ancestors and ask to be judged mercifully because of what they merited.

The Talmud also states that the merit acquired has long-lasting effects: Happy are the righteous! Not only do they acquire merit, but they bestow merit upon their children and children's children to the end of all generations… (Tractate Yoma 87a, Soncino translation)

Still, a cautionary note was raised by the Talmudic rabbis, who declared that zechut avot was eventually exhausted by the time of the prophets (Tractate Shabbat 55a). They did this because "…the Rabbis, fearing perhaps the moral consequence of reliance on the merit of the Patriarchs at the risk of neglecting personal merit and worthiness, boldly declared that zekut abot was no longer valid." (Jewishencyclopedia.com, The Patriarchs)

What this means is that we cannot rest upon the laurels of our ancestors and each one of us must take individual responsibility. Beyond that, we must be willing to carry this into the next generation and let our children claim individual responsibility as well.

We seem to have a lot of trouble with this. More and more we hover over our children, and do not allow them the freedom to grow up and grasp responsibility. This has led to the creation of a new term: helicopter parents. First noticed in primary education, the problem now exists in higher education and is spreading into the workplace as well.

Recently, a more drastic version of such parenting has been noted:

Pretty soon, we're going have to amend the favorite mom and dad moniker of the moment. Those much-vaunted helicopter parents are turning into black-helicopter parents. The image of parents hovering over their kids is morphing into the darker image of parents spying on their kids.

Here is the latest bit of high-tech surveillance equipment being marketed to parents. A company inauspiciously named Bladerunner has begun selling a jacket with a GPS device sewn into the lining. For a mere $500 plus $20 a month, a parent can track a child, or at least his jacket, all day long.

This is just a small addition to the family-friendly arsenal. We already have a full range of cellphones equipped with GPS. Indeed, the most common cellphone greeting is not "How are you?" but "Where are you?" Parents are being sold the idea that they can trust but Wherify - the name of one of the many manufacturers offering services that beam their children's whereabouts to their cellphone.

Want to monitor what your kids eat at school? MyNutrikids gives you the scoop from the lunchroom. Want an automatic alert if he got a B on the pop quiz? Go to GradeSpeed. Want to monitor her instant messages? There's IMSafer. And want to know whether your 17-year-old is speeding? Alltrack not only tells you but lets you remotely flash the lights and honk the horn till she slows down.

There is also a "safety checks" service courtesy of Sprint to let you know if your children showed up for soccer practice. And a "geofencing" service from Verizon that alerts parents if a child leaves the area circumscribed by her parents.

Ellen Goodman, Boston Globe, Nov 2, 2007

Being a parent, I sympathize with those concerned for the safety of their children; I also understand advocating for what you think is right and best for your child. Still, I cannot shake the image of quiet Isaac, whose father did what he thought was right and best. Isaac carried a memory of a father hovering over him with knife in hand, a father who gave him no say in finding a spouse (though fortunately, it was a "match made in heaven.")

Isaac could only make a life for himself away from his father and only come into his own after his father died. Throughout Genesis chapter 26, Isaac is actively doing a variety of things successfully. He succeeds on his own terms as a man of the field, a man of peace, a sensitive individual leading a moral, responsible life. Though he does receive God's blessing, his life will not be fully valued until his son Jacob goes off on his own and then comes back, appreciating both his grandfather's and father's differing experiences, and distinctive relationships with God, as is verbalized in his prayer O God of my father Abraham and God of my father Isaac.

Children need to leave and make their own way in the world. Such was our experience in leaving the Garden of Eden. Such was the case when Abraham was told lech lecha (go forth) and when Jacob ran off fearing for his life. But what of Isaac, who was told to stay in the land? His journey was an internal one, staying in the land but exploring his inner self. He derived merit from his father's experience but needed to make his own way in a totally different direction. In the same manner, Jacob will also have to make his own way and discover that he has elements of both his father and his grandfather in him.

Likewise, we must realize that there is a limit to what we can provide for our children. Their future merit will depend on their own actions. Whatever paths our children take, we should keep in mind the teaching of the eighteenth-century Hasidic master Nachman of Bratslav whose words have been transformed into a popular song

The entire world is a narrow bridge
And the main thing
Is not to be afraid.

We can only give our children so much. But what we give them is the priceless inheritance of our ancestors, our zechut avot. When we trust our children to make their own way and learn their own lessons, this is the most important legacy we leave them, their zechut avot.

Shabbat shalom,
MS