After the Manchester Synagogue Attack, They Danced Through Their Tears
It’s interesting to note that both this week’s Torah portion and the Torah portion of Noach begin with the same phrase: “These are the generations of…” As discussed in the analysis of Parashas Noach, instead of continuing with the names of Noach’s children, the Torah describes his deeds. Rashi, citing a Midrash, explains that the Torah was teaching us that the good deeds of the righteous also are viewed as their progeny. A person’s progeny is not exclusively limited to offspring but encompasses one’s own spiritual growth and positive acts. Metaphorically speaking, Noach gave birth to a progeny of refined traits and good deeds.
With this in mind, we can better understand why the Torah also views toldos, progeny, as being our positive deeds. Ultimately, they determine who we will become. Figuratively speaking, it is through our deeds that we give birth to ourselves. In Torah terms, it is clear that our deeds comprise a legacy, and our children, we hope, are an extension of it.
“And these are the offspring of Yitzchak, son of Avraham—Avraham begot Yitzchak.”The double reference to Avraham being the father of Yitzchak is to emphasize his paternity. The Torah repeats this point because of the possible scoffers of that generation who might have doubted that Avraham was Yitzchak’s father. Sarah and Avraham had been unable to conceive a child together. Rashitells us that Yitzchak looked so much like Avraham that there could be no doubt that they indeed were father and son.
On a deeper level, “Avraham begot Yitzchak” alludes to how the name of Avram was changed to Avraham. Avram and Sarai, as they originally were named, were incapable of producing children. However, the changing of their names to Avraham and Sarah signified a changing of their destinies. The challenges and tests that they endured profoundly altered their natural inclinations. In the case of Avram, each test that he passed elevated him spiritually. A new name was necessary to reflect a new person and to express a redefined destiny. Avram, therefore, morphed into Avraham. His new name represented the profound inner transformation that transpired. Because of his deeds, Avraham begot Yitzchak—his spiritual heir.
Even before there is any mention of Yitzchak’s offspring, we are told of his righteous deeds. He prayed “abundantly” on behalf of his wife, Rivkah, beseeching God that she should be able to conceive a child. Even though he was aware of the promise that God had made to his father—that Avraham’s destiny would be realized through the offspring of Yitzchak—Yitzchak beseeched God that the blessing be fulfilled through Rivkah.
Yitzchak, being the righteous child of a righteous father, might be assumed, naturally, to merit equally righteous children. Yet the very next verse indicates that such an assumption is false. Even in utero, the offspring of Yitzchak and Rivkah represented two struggling and conflicting ideologies. The current concept of “nurture versus nature” plainly can reference the Torah as a primary source and “playbook.” The nurturing upbringing that both Eisav and Yaakov received from two righteous parents of sterling character nevertheless produced two children who were complete opposites in character.
This great disparity was not completely obvious until the age of thirteen, when it clearly became noticeable that their behaviors were in opposition to one another. Eisav exhibited a crude, aggressive nature—becoming a hunter and turning to idols—while Yaakov spent his days in study. Growing up in the same environment did not alter their inherent natures. Our character traits can be modified throughout our lifetimes, but only if we choose to exert the efforts. This becomes a central part of our human quest. Man can change his nature if he strives to direct it, rather than allowing his nature to direct him.
It is important to note that the Torah doesn’t claim that its great personalities were flawless individuals. The narrative doesn’t gloss over their defects, but rather highlights the process of their spiritual development. In contemporary terms, “dysfunctional families” have always existed, as we can see from the family dynamics described in the Torah’s narratives.
Since the Torah’s teachings are always applicable, why is it so challenging to transmit the Torah’s lessons from one generation to the next? Each individual must recognize how the Torah speaks directly to his or her unique circumstances. The Torah must be effectively explained in a way that is clearly relevant to the challenges of that generation. Such relevance is perennial, much like a well-tended and nurtured garden. Not every seed will mature to fruition, even when planted in fertile soil. Yet a foundation of fertile soil always is conducive for most seeds to grow and reach full bloom. Likewise, Torah values and core beliefs are best transmitted when authentically modeled and emulated. Since people mature at different rates, sometimes it can take a lifetime to internalize. Life’s tests are designed to help bring out our unrevealed potentials. The Torah’s lessons help us to be proactive rather than merely reactive when we are faced with a major challenge. Timeless values don’t change—that’s why they are timeless—yet we, as finite individuals, evolve and develop through the seasons of our lives. In simple terms, “life happens.” The Torah’s timeless lessons serve to influence a Jew’s responses to living in an ever-changing world.
The parenting style within any given family is influenced by many variables. Children can experience vastly different parenting styles within the same family. There isn’t a “one-size-fits-all” style of dealing with the diverse needs and traits of siblings growing up in the same household. The goal of parenting is not to produce clones that mindlessly mimic their parents’ behaviors. While good parents strive to help develop their children’s positive qualities, actualizing their latent potentials poses a far greater, more comprehensive challenge.
Ultimately, effective and successful parenting can be measured by how well our children have actualized the lessons we’ve taught them, thereby making their parents’ Torah into their own. While we can control our best efforts, the outcomes are not entirely within our control. We are well
aware that not every child will turn out the way his or her parents would have desired. Therefore, the Torah has expanded our view of parenting to include parenting ourselves. We as individuals are solely responsible for exerting our best efforts to invest in, and to parent, ourselves. Sometimes, this requires us to act in place of the parents we wished we had but did not. Though not an easy undertaking, sometimes it becomes necessary to revise the upbringing we were given. If, due to one’s own parents’ inadequate parenting skills, some of us are deficient, then we are obliged to pioneer and develop our own skills. It is never too late for anyone to strive and labor to become who they have the potential to be.
