As someone who loves studying languages, it's always interesting to learn the meaning of words because the same word can have multiple meanings. That is how the phrase "double entendre" (French for the words "double" and "to understand") came to being. With a double entendre, a word can have an obvious meaning and a less obvious meaning. We have a double entendre of sorts in this week's Torah portion with the name of the Torah portion itself: Toldot (תולדות). In Hebrew, the word primarily means "progeny" (children), but it can also mean "history".
I want to get into the word play and how the word means both "progeny" and "history," but first, I need to answer a seemingly tangential question: why was Isaac blind (Genesis 27:1)? There are a few explanations. For the Rashbam, it was a result of Isaac getting older. One of Rashi's theories is that the smoke that Esau's wives were burning for their idolatrous incense got into Isaac's eyes.
There is a Midrash (Genesis Rabbah 65:10) that actually comes up with an explanation, one I find compelling for the purposes of this insight. When Isaac was on the altar for the Akeidah (binding of Isaac), Isaac took a glimpse at the light of Heaven when the angel appeared in order to save Isaac's life. This blinding light, according to the Midrash, caused Isaac to never be able to see clearly again. As a result, Isaac could not see or recognize that Jacob was clearly lying to him, nor could he see that Esau was unworthy of receiving Isaac's blessing.
Isaac was not the only one that experienced some form of blindness. His father, Abraham, dealt with his own form of blindness. As the story goes, Abraham is about ready to sacrifice his son, an angel comes down to stop him (Genesis 22:12). A verse later, Abraham sees a ram enmeshed in a thicket and subsequently sacrifices a ram (Genesis 22:13). This brings up a question of at what point the ram became enmeshed in the thicket. If it was before Abraham and Isaac went up to the mountain, then Abraham did not see the ram when he initially descended or up until that moment in Genesis 22:12. If it was when Abraham was preparing his son for the sacrifice, again, he did not notice a ram coming up the mountain to get enmeshed. Regardless of when the ram showed up on the scene, there was at least a moment in which Abraham did not notice the ram. Abraham was so focused on following G-d's word that he did not notice the ram. Perhaps the ram represents an alternative to sacrificing his son, an alternative that he saw at the last possible second.
While Abraham ultimately did the right thing by sacrificing the ram (Genesis 22:16-17), his metaphorical blindness nearly killed his own son. The moment of the Akeida was a nexus for both of their blindness. Abraham's blindness might have been temporary, but it was nevertheless able to impact Isaac for years to come, at least according to this Midrash.
This is the part where I bring it back to the word תולדות. The Midrash teaches us how much of an impact our parents have on us, hence the English meaning of "children." Children are primarily influenced by nature and nurture. Parents play a major role in both. Parents pass on their genes to their children. Parents are also the single largest influence on an individual. Perhaps this is why when Abraham was making his journey to Canaan, the verse said that he left "the home of his father, his community, his country (Genesis 12:1)." It's because family influences us even more than community or country.
Yes, it is true how much influence family can have over, but we are more than just our upbringing or our genetics. The Zohar attributed a different character trait to each of the Patriarchs: kindness (חסד) for Abraham, strength (גבורה) for Isaac, and beauty (תפארת) for Jacob. This implies that in spite of familial traits or impact, you can and should make our own destiny and have our own personality. Although we are greatly influenced by family, we are ultimately and inevitably not a continuation of our family. We have the power to be our own person.
The Chassidic tale of Rabbi Zusha of Hanipol, a 18th-century rabbi, emphasizes this point of "be your own person" greatly. Essentially, R. Zusha is on his death bed crying. His disciples are wondering why he is in tears since the Rabbi did so many mitzvahs. His reply was the following. When he gets to Heaven, G-d will ask why R. Zusha wasn't as kind as Abraham or as wise as Moses, to which his reply would be "Well, I'm not Abraham or Moses." However, when asked "Why weren't you more like R. Zusha?," R. Zusha had no answer. What ultimately scared him was a lack of authentic living, an inability to make his own history.
To tie it all together, this is the double meaning and lesson of the word "Toldot". On the one hand, we are to remember where we came from. After all, it is how we came into being and why we are the way we are. At the same time, we are meant to be our own individual and to do so authentically. Pirke Avot (4:1) teaches us that a wise person is one that learns from every one. Let us learn from R. Zusha, as well as the Patriarchs Abraham and Isaac, and create a life that is both Jewish and authentic to ourselves.
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