Understanding that when your wife or your husband is in pain, Vaye'ater Yitzchak lenochach ishto (Isaac pleaded opposite his wife). Raise your hand here if you ever prayed for something in your life. Raise your hand. Thank everybody. Everybody prayed for something. Did you ever pray with your wife for something? Interesting, huh? Maybe not so much. That's not as common: praying for the same thing. And even if you did, where did you do it? You went to shul (synagogue). She sat with Tehillim. What we're learning over here is something a little different. They're praying together in each other's presence. The Kotzker used to say that the reason why Yitzchak did that was so that he could see his wife crying while she was praying, so he could pray in a different way. There's an element here of togetherness, of being in a situation together, that I think is so beautiful.
And I think the Torah is communicating that. And it's communicating that, specifically, says the Kotzker, about a fellow like Yitzchak, who's so strong, who nothing can really get to him. So what does he do? He figures out a way to let something get to him, to break through. What a gorgeous idea. He's so Gevurah, so strong in his emunah (faith), that he's capable of saying, “If Hashem doesn't want us to have children, that must be the best thing for me. I could pray, but I'm not going to be so into it.” Because, you know, says the Kotzker, he prayed opposite his wife so that her tears would break that in him. Not that it would break his emunah.
What he would say is, “Look, for me, I'm good.” He's also akar (barren). But Avraham Avinu, he could say, “She's akara, she can't have children,” because Avraham had kids. Where's Yitzchak? Where are Yitzchak's kids? You could say that she is akara. Right? It should say that they know him. They know him. The answer is that, for Yitzchak, that was not the tefillah (prayer). The tefillah is that he's looking at his wife, and he's praying so much.
And to me, I need you to understand this. Look at what Yitzchak is. According to what the Kotzker is teaching us, he's capable of withstanding something as big as not having children. He's capable of withstanding something as big as not having children. He's capable of withstanding something as big as not having children. He's capable of withstanding something as big as not having children. But he's not capable of withstanding watching his wife cry. This level of connection, of empathy. Seeing how many times? Never mind that we should be sensitive to it. How many times, men, are we the cause of it? Not that we meant to make them cry, or be upset, or be sad. Not that we did it on purpose. But we did it because we weren't careful. And by the way, not being careful is the same as doing it. How do I know that? I have a Mishnah that says so.
On three sins do we find that women pass away during childbirth. What are the next words of the Mishnah? It should say, “On three averot (sins).” That's not what the Mishnah says. What does the Mishnah say? Al she'einan, right? Who remembers? We say it every Friday night. Al she'einan is the word that they are not careful with. They're not careful with. Not being careful with something is the same as not doing it, or doing it. So never mind praying with our wife, praying with our children, praying with our parents, with someone that you love, whoever it is, no matter what your status is, marital status: being together in something, giving someone the feeling, “I'm here with you a hundred percent in what you're going through. I'm going through this with you.”
We just learned in Masechet (tractate) Moed Katan a concept: a person rips when his wife is in Avelut (mourning). Why? To honor his wife. She's suffering, so I'm suffering. We suffer together. There's no such thing as suffering apart, as crying apart. As important as the lesson was—to ensure that your wife has the values that will build your home—it is important enough for the Pasuk (verse) to teach us the power of being with the people you love when they cry. What a magnificent idea.