The Torah in Parashat Toldot tells what we should probably see as the first instance of antisemitism.
Yitzhak Avinu was forced by a drought to settle among the Pelishtim, and they disliked him and fought with him. A focal point of the fighting was the group of wells that Yitzhak dug. These wells had actually been dug years earlier by his father, Avraham. But after Avraham died, the Pelishtim filled the wells with earth, so they could not be used. Now, Yitzhak dug them anew. And the Pelishtim fought with him over these wells.
Avraham brought a new idea into the world, the concept of ethical monotheism, the belief in Hashem, in morality, in our responsibility for other people, in kindness and compassion. The people decided to “stuff the wells,” to put an end to his teachings, because they did not want to have to bear this burden. Yitzhak, though, kept digging. He didn’t give up, even in the face of hostility.
In our time, too, we face a frightening wave of antisemitism. We need to be strong and resolute, like Yitzhak Avinu, and continue to “dig the wells” of our ancestors, and proudly carry our heritage and traditions.
But there’s also something else we need to be doing.
The opening pesukim of this parashah tell that Yitzhak and Rivka were childless for twenty years before having children. During those years, the Torah writes, ויעתר יצחק לה' – Yitzhak prayed to Hashem, until he was finally answered and Rivka conceived.
The commentators point out that the Torah uses an unusual word for prayer – ויעתר. We are familiar with other words, such as תפילה, תחינה and בקשה. What does ויעתר mean?
Rashi explains, הרבה והפציר בתפילה. Meaning, Yitzhak didn’t just pray. He begged. And he begged more. And then some more. He kept asking and begging and crying and pleading.
Yitzhak’s name (יצחק) is gematria equals 208, and Rivka’s name (רבקה) equals 307. Together, they equal 515. This is the same number of tefilot that Moshe Rabbenu prayed when he asked to be allowed to enter the Land of Israel, as indicated by the pasuk ואתחנן אל ה' – “I pleaded to Hashem” (the word ואתחנן equals 515). Moshe Rabbenu kept begging and begging, without stopping until Hashem told him to stop (אל תוסף דבר אלי – Devarim 3:26). This is how Yitzhak and Rivka prayed for the blessing of children. They begged. They pleaded. They cried. And they didn’t stop.
The story is told of a Rabbi who was walking with his students, and they came across a young boy who was crying. The Rabbi kneeled down to ask the boy what was wrong. The boy explained that he and his friends were playing hide-and-go-seek, and he was the one who hid. His friends never found him.
“So what’s the problem?” the Rabbi asked. “Isn’t that what you want to happen?”
“Yes, the boy said, but they eventually stopped looking for me. And that’s why I’m sad.”
The Rabbi turned to his students and said that this is the true of our relationship with Hashem, as well. Sometimes, He hides. For reasons we are not supposed to know, He brings upon us difficult challenges, situations where it seems as though He isn’t here helping us. What He wants during these times, the Rabbi explained, is for us to continue looking for Him, without ever giving up. We need to continue begging, unrelentingly, until He finally answers.
This is what is needed now, as well. It isn’t enough to just recite a few chapters of Tehillim for the captives and for our soldiers, and then call it a day. We need ויעתר – to keep asking and pleading. We need to stop praying and start begging; to stop talking and start crying; to stop using just words and start pleading with our hearts.
Hashem wants us to keep searching, to keep pleading, until we find Him, and He will then come to help us and bring our nation the peace and tranquility that we so desperately want. May it happen speedily, amen.