In the opening pasuk to Parashat Toldot, the Torah gives us what seems to be an entirely superfluous reminder: אברהם הוליד את יצחק – “Avraham begot Yitzhak.” Of course, anyone who has read the previous chapters of the Humash is already very well aware of the fact that Yitzhak was Avraham’s son, and Avraham was Yitzhak’s father. Why, then, did the Torah find it necessary to tell us this again?
This question led Rashi to explain that the Torah is telling us something more than the fact that Avraham was Yitzhak’s father. It’s telling us that the two looked very much alike. Avraham was Yitzhak’s father – and Hashem saw to it that Yitzhak looked very much, or maybe even exactly, like Avraham.
Still, we need to ask ourselves, why is this important? Many sons look like their fathers. Why was it necessary for the Torah to emphasize the resemblance between Avraham and Yitzhak?
Finding Water Instead of Sprite
One evening I took my kids out to 7-11 for slurpees, and for myself I ordered a large Sprite, with a lot of ice in it. I took it home, and sipped it before I went to sleep.
The next morning, after all the ice had melted, there was a good deal of liquid in the cup. One of the younger children saw the cup on the table and got very excited to be able to help himself to my leftover Sprite. He took a sip, and then cried, “Ew!”
He was expecting sweet, bubbly Sprite, but instead got a mouthful of plain water. The liquid in the cup was just melted ice. I had finished all the Sprite.
Is this not an accurate metaphor for so many people’s lives? They go into a situation expecting something “delicious,” but find something completely different.
So many young men and women get married after years of dreaming of the blissful life they would enjoy once they found their soulmate, and after literally counting down the days for several months after the engagement, but at some point after the wedding, maybe several months, or a couple of years, realize that it’s not what they expected. So many young couples excitedly have children, but soon realize that the children they were given were not quite the kind of children they had dreamed about raising. So many young professionals land their first job and show up to work excited to launch their career, only to find out that work is not quite as happy and fulfilling as they had hoped.
So often in life, we pick up a cup thinking it’s Sprite, only to find out that it’s water.
As religious Jews, we’ve been taught repeatedly, ever since we were young, that “everything Hashem does is for the best.” This is a refrain that is repeated so often by Rabbis and teachers that it’s coming out of our ears. And for good reason, as this is one of the cornerstones of our faith. But sometimes, this belief is very difficult. When we’re enduring a very difficult challenge, it is so hard to blindly trust that this is for the best. Therefore, we need to understand this tenet of emunah on a deeper level.
וראית את אחורי
We read in the Book of Shemot of an exchange that took place between Moshe Rabbenu and Hashem on Mount Sinai, as Moshe was begging Hashem to forgive the Jewish People for the sin of the golden calf. At one point in this conversation, Moshe asked to be able to see Hashem: הראני נא את כבודך. Hashem replied that He would allow Moshe Rabbenu to see Him, but only “from the back”: וראית את אחורי ופני לא יראו – “You will see My back, but my face shall not be seen.” Moshe Rabbenu was given the clearest understanding of Hashem that was ever shown to any human being, but even he was shown only the “back,” and not the “front” – meaning, even He did not achieve full clarity about Hashem’s essence.
Some commentators offer an additional interpretation to this pasuk. The words אחורי and לפני can mean not only “back” and “front,” but also “after” and “before.” Hashem was telling Moshe Rabbenu that we can understand Hashem, at best, “after,” in the end, when the story reaches its climax. While we’re experiencing something, we cannot understand why Hashem is doing what He is doing, why we face such difficult challenges. But in the end, perhaps years or even decades later, we can begin to get a glimpse of what His intention was. פני לא יראו – we cannot understand things in the beginning, as they are starting to unfold, but אחורי – in the end, we will have a clearer perspective.
This is the deeper concept underlying the popular expression “it’s all for the best.” When facing a difficult challenge, we need to try to ask ourselves, “Where might this lead me? In what ways can this end up beneficial for me? How can this bring me to a better place than where I am right now?”
As a Rabbi for many years, who has accompanied so many people through so many different stages in their lives, I have seen countless examples of וראית את אחורי, where after the fact, a very difficult challenge turned out to be a blessing. A divorce is a devastating and traumatizing experience, but it so often leads to somebody meeting and settling down with the perfect person. A person loses his job and can’t pay his bills for several months, but eventually finds a better job. A person’s business, which he spent many years building, collapses, and as a result, he is forced to find a 9-to-5 job that pays less but leaves him with far more time for family and Torah learning. Sometimes Hashem closes a door for us in order to force us to find a different one – a door which leads us somewhere much greater than the first door would have led to.
I have seen many 12th graders with devastated looks on their faces when their SAT scores come in and the results aren’t what they hoped. When this happens, the boy feels as though his entire future is shattered. He was anticipating going to NYU along with his friends, but instead will likely end up going to Brooklyn College. The situation looks terrible. But if he thinks long-term, there are many ways in which this could end up being the greatest blessing. Maybe he will have a much lighter workload than he would have in the college he wished to attend, and this will allow him to take a job in junior year which will lead to a successful career. Maybe he will meet a friend in college with whom he will open a successful business, or who will introduce him to a girl whom he will end up marrying and building a beautiful home with. Maybe this will allow him to spend an impactful year of yeshiva study in Israel before college, which his preferred college would not have allowed. וראית את אחורי. If we look from the perspective of “after,” of where a given circumstance can lead us, of the many different beneficial outcomes that could result from what appears now as an undesirable – and even painful – situation, we will be so much better equipped to deal with the disappointment and struggle.
If someone’s basement floods, it is a big headache. But look where it could lead to. It forces the family to go through all the litter that has collected down there for years, and make some space. Maybe they’ll find something valuable that they had once lost. Maybe they’ll find an old album, and will be able to refresh fond memories of the past. Maybe some of the stuff from the basement will have to be transferred to other rooms of the house, which will force family members to share a bedroom, thereby bringing them closer and helping them learn how to get along. There are so many different angles from which this seemingly disastrous situation can appear as a wonderful blessing.
Learning Faith From Avraham and Yitzhak
This might be why Parashat Toldot, the parashah which tells us about the life of Yitzhak Avinu, begins by informing us אברהם הוליד את יצחק, that Yitzhak looked like Avraham. This does not necessarily mean that Yitzhak had the same face as his father. Rather, it means that he faced life with the same attitude and perspective as his father did. And this is how the Torah wants to introduce the story of Yitzhak’s life.
Avraham faced many difficult tests. He had to run for his life after expressing his opposition to idol-worship. G-d commanded him to relocate in a different country. He faced drought and famine. His wife was abducted twice. He had to fight a war. He was childless for decades. When he finally had sons, he had to send one of them away. And then he nearly had to slaughter the other. But all throughout, he retained his faith. He understood that he was building Hashem’s special nation which would exist for eternity, and he understood that all the difficulties he was dealing with were necessary to achieve this end. His faith never flickered for an instant.
Yitzhak’s life was the same. He became blind – and this is what prevented him from granting his blessing to the wrong son, as Rivkah sent Yaakov to receive the blessing instead of Esav. The Pelishtim stuffed the wells which Avraham had painstakingly dug, requiring Yitzhak to dig them anew. This seemed like a terrible inconvenience, but it also afforded Yitzhak the opportunity to make the powerful statement that he was continuing his father’s work, that he was following his father’s path, undeterred by those who opposed and threatened him.
Parashat Toldot includes the story of Yaakov’s purchase of the birthright from Esav. While Yaakov was preparing a stew, Esav came home and asked for some of the food. Yaakov agreed on condition that Esav sold to him the privileges of the firstborn, and Esav agreed. The Rabbis comment that this occurred on the day of Avraham Avinu’s death. The passing of Avraham Avinu was a terrible tragedy – but as a result, Yaakov, Avraham’s righteous grandson, secured the birthright for all eternity.
This is the lesson of emunah that we learn from Avraham and Yitzhak. So many things in their lives didn’t unfold the way they would have wanted – but they retained their faith, and ultimately, everything turned out for the best.
The One-Armed Karate Champ
There was once a young man in college who aspired to learn karate and participate in competitions. However, there was something about him that made him very different from other aspiring black belts: he had no left arm. Anybody he would compete against would be fighting with two arms, while he would be there with just one. To put it mildly, this put him at a disadvantage.
Not surprisingly, nobody wanted to coach him. He approached several professional trainers, offering to pay for private lessons, but they all refused. Understandably, they could not begin to imagine how a man with one arm could win even a single competition.
Finally, he approached one of the most renowned and experienced trainers, who agreed to teach him. At their first lesson, the trainer taught the boy a certain move.
“I want you to practice this move over and over again until you master it to perfection,” the trainer told him. The boy agreed, and practiced regularly. His entire training program revolved around this one move, with the trainer insisting that he execute this particular move flawlessly.
Once the trainer felt that the boy had mastered this move to perfection, he told the young man he was ready to compete. The boy signed up for a competition, and to the astonishment of everyone in the room, he won the first round. And then the second, and the third. Each time, he perfectly executed the unique move taught to him by his trainer, and it worked. He made it to the final round, and he defeated his opponent.
As they were celebrating this most unlikely victory, the boy turned to his trainer to ask him to explain the secret.
“Why did you want me to learn this one move? And how did you know that this is the way I would win?”
“Simple,” the trainer said. “There is only one way to defend against this move – by grabbing the opponent’s left arm. You have no left arm, so your opponents have no way of defending against this move.”
So often in life, what seems like a disadvantage can end up being our greatest advantage. If a child struggles during his youth, whether it’s due to illness, academic struggles, social difficulties, or any other type of hardship, this experience can become his most precious asset. The resilience and coping skills he developed as a youngster will give him a distinct advantage over those who had it easy growing up. His struggles put him in a position to better understand struggling kids when he grows older, enabling him to help children with challenges. All we need to do is to change our perspective, to look at our problems from a different angle, and, sooner or later – usually later – we will see how they were not, in fact, problems, but rather part of a process that gave us a precious asset.
When I was in yeshiva, I had two friends who were, for lack of a better term, annoying. They both drove me bats.
One of them had a lot of trouble understanding Gemara. He did not follow one word of the shiur. And so he was constantly coming over to me to ask for help, and I would have to repeat myself over and over again until he understood. It reached the point where I started learning downstairs in the basement so I wouldn’t be bothered. The second kid, who was a bit younger than me, had virtually every kind of problem that a teenage kid could have. He didn’t get along with other kids, he had horrible parents, and he was generally unhappy. This boy appointed me as his therapist, and designated the seat next to wherever I happened to be at any moment as his “couch.” He would come all the time to tell me about his problems, and made me listen and understand everything.
These two kids really annoyed me, but וראית את אחורי – looking back, I can see very clearly, without a shadow of a doubt, that they made me into who I am today. The first boy forced me to learn how to explain things clearly, and patiently, which turned me into a teacher. The second forced me to patiently listen to people, understand their problems, and empathize with them – which is such a vital part of a Rabbi’s work. As annoyed as I was at the time, there is no denying that I received 100 times more from these two boys than I ever gave to them. ופני לא יראו – I could not have possibly seen this then, but now – אחורי – I see it very clearly.
Smelling the Spices
It goes without saying that keeping this perspective is not easy. It is a great challenge. When we’re frustrated, anxious, exasperated and exhausted, and certainly when we are in pain, it is so very difficult to step away from the here-and-now and reflect upon how the adverse situation will eventually lead to great blessing at some point in the distant future. But we have to try. And often, Hashem helps us gain this perspective so we can retain our faith, our hope and our optimism.
Later in the Book of Bereshit, we read the painful story of מכירת יוסף, of how Yosef’s brothers conspired against him and sold him as a slave to merchants traveling to Egypt. At just 17 years old, Yosef found himself cruelly betrayed by his own family, being taken away to a foreign country and condemned to spend the rest of his life – or so it appeared at the time – as a slave.
The Rabbis take note of a curious nuance in the Torah’s account of this tragic story. When it tells about the brothers seeing a caravan of merchants traveling to Egypt, which gave them the idea of selling Yosef as a slave, the Torah found it necessary to specify the merchandise that these traders were transporting. Namely, they were carrying fragrant spices – a detail that seems wholly insignificant. What difference does it make what business these merchants worked in? How does this add to our understanding of this painful story?
The Rabbis explain that Hashem specifically arranged that Yosef would have fragrant spices with him during his journey to Egypt. Normally, these merchants transported foul-smelling substances, such as tar. On this particular occasion, however, Hashem saw to it that they were carrying spices, so that Yosef would enjoy a fragrant scent during his trip.
We must wonder, how much could this have meant to Yosef – to have aromatic spices to smell on his way to Egypt? He was experiencing the most unimaginable horror. His whole life was being thrown into disarray. How would spices help him?
The answer given by the commentators is that Hashem was sending Yosef a message through those spices, assuring him that He was with him during his time of distress. No, the spices did not make the situation less cruel or painful. But it did remind Yosef that Hashem was there, that there was a plan in place, that he was not being forsaken. Indeed, as we know, the story ended with Yosef’s rise to glory in Egypt, his rescuing the entire region from starvation, and his ultimate reunion with his family. Hashem was with him even in his darkest moments – which ultimately led Yosef to the peak of success.
There was once a letter printed in the Yated Neeman newspaper by a woman who wanted to express gratitude to a complete stranger, to somebody whose name she did not know. All she knew about this man is that he gave her his umbrella.
The background to the story, she went on to explain, was that doctors discovered a tumor behind her son’s eye, and he needed to have that eye surgically removed. On a dreary, rainy day – a day this woman called “maybe the most emotional day of my life” – she was standing on the corner of Lexington Ave. and 77th St. with her son, a married man, waiting for a taxi to take them to Sloan Kettering Hospital for the surgery. That very same morning, her daughter-in-law, her son’s wife, was being taken to a different New York hospital in order to deliver their baby. The pouring rain was the last thing they were worried about, but a man came out of nowhere and offered them his umbrella as they stood there wet waiting for a cab.
Baruch Hashem, they made it to the hospital, the surgery was successful, and soon thereafter, the doctors allowed the patient to go to the other hospital to meet his beautiful newborn child.
At the end of this very emotional day, they looked at this umbrella that they were given. “Maybe,” they thought, “Hashem was sending us a message, saying to us: I am here, I am holding your hand.”
That umbrella was their version of the spices in Yosef’s wagon as he was kidnapped and driven from home. It was a small ray of light which did not have a significant practical impact on the situation, but which reminded them that Hashem was with them.
Even in the most difficult situations, there are “spices” that we can look to for encouragement and reassurance. It could be a small favor done by a friend, family member, or complete stranger. It could be a friendly phone call from somebody whom we hadn’t heard from. Or it could be something that unexpectedly goes right when it seems that everything is going wrong. These “spices” can go a long way towards lifting our spirits in life’s dark moments, and reminding us that although we cannot see anything good about the current situation, Hashem is leading us to where we need to go.
Life’s problems can be good, no matter how difficult and challenging they seem. When we trust that וראית את אחורי, that at some point in the future we will recognize the blessing hidden within our problem, it becomes so much easier to handle, and it becomes so much easier for us to remain joyful, confident and upbeat no matter what kind of hardships life throws our way.