The Toledot Portion (5761)

With God’s help, on the eve of the holy Sabbath of the Toledot portion, 5761

‘Wildness’ versus ‘Splendor’: Two Types of Union between Kindness and Strength

In the previous portion, Isaac is described as Abraham’s son, whereas at the beginning of this week’s portion

the Torah already describes the birth of Jacob and Esau. Abraham and Jacob are independent figures, described

at length in the portions of the Book of Genesis, whereas Isaac himself stands in between, and not even

a single portion is devoted to him, aside from parts of our portion. Seemingly, Isaac is not an

independent stage in the development of the people of Israel, but only a link between Abraham and Jacob.

In the esoteric tradition, Abraham is the father of the attribute of kindness, Isaac is the

father of the attribute of strength, and Jacob, the choicest of the patriarchs, is the attribute of splendor.

Splendor is a combination of the two previous attributes, kindness and strength.

On the alternative path stands Ishmael, followed by Esau. Both of these were endowed with the attribute of strength,

and the Torah describes them as hunters, men of the field, and men of war. In Pirkei de-Rabbi Eliezer (chapter 32),

the Sages describe how Abraham teaches Ishmael the importance of the attribute of kindness, and this even after

Ishmael had already left him and become a notable among his people and an independent man. Ishmael, as the Sages say,

took the attribute of kindness from Abraham, and it seems that we can discern this even to our own day.

The difference between Jacob (Israel), as the consummation of strength and kindness, and Ishmael, who was likewise endowed with strength

and kindness, lies in the synthesis between them. In Jacob this is a single attribute, and therefore it is called splendor,

from the root denoting glory, an attribute that points to wholeness (kindness and strength, each by itself, are deficient, and only

their combination is wholeness). In Ishmael, by contrast, kindness is present and strength is present,

but they are not interwoven with one another.

Indeed, it is sometimes hard to understand the combination of Ishmael’s terrible cruelty with his attribute of hospitality.

There is a well-known story by Tolstoy called “Hospitality,” which tells of

a quarrel between a Spaniard and a Moor (a Muslim in Spain), in which the Spaniard murders the Moor and flees. In his great

fear, he comes to a house with a high wall, jumps inside, and asks the master of the house for shelter. The latter gave

him half an apple to eat so that he would be his guest, “and it was the custom among the Moors that a man who ate

bread with them became their guest, and they were bound to guard him as one guards a close brother and to defend his honor.”

At night, people arrived and told the master of the house that his son had been murdered and the murderer could not be found. The Moor

understood who was lodging in his house, and when they had gone on their way, he went and saddled one of the finest horses

in his stable, woke his guest, and said to him: “Listen to me. I had a dear son, dearer to me than all

the delights of the world, and you killed him. Rise; I have already saddled a horse for you. Hurry and ride away from here.

I will keep my word and will not touch you for evil, but if one of my relatives finds you—you are lost.

They will grant you no mercy… Hurry and flee. Give thanks to God, for He has given me the strength to overcome the feelings of my heart.”

Here there is sublime hospitality, almost beyond comprehension, the consummation of the attribute of kindness. On the other hand,

Muslim cruelty is well known, and these days bear witness to it. The spread of the Muslim religion took place through

wars and endless killing, and to this very day we can see acts like the shocking lynching that took place

in Ramallah, the killing of helpless people, and the like.

The Midrash says that Ishmael possesses a trait shared only by him and Israel, and by no other nation:

in both of them, the divine element meaning “God” is embedded within their names, and they act in the name of the Lord.

These are the only two major religions (insofar as Judaism is a major religion)

that are monotheistic in the full sense of the term.

On the other hand, Ishmael is “a wild man,” as the Torah puts it, a man who takes over all his surroundings, and in the language

of the Torah: “a bowman.”

The combination of these two traits, faith and wildness, likewise requires explanation. In the

modern world, it seems that there is no longer any need to explain this combination, for the connection between faith

and wildness is immediate. It seems that Islam has made the principal contribution to this image.

Islam is perceived as wildness that springs from a religious source; that is, religious faith that leads a person

to be convinced of his path and unwilling to examine it. Such a conception leads to the trampling of all

values that are ostensibly “human,” and not religious.

Seemingly, this combination—the wildness—is to be expected. One who sincerely believes in a divine command, and is prepared

to give his life for it, may quite reasonably come to be “a wild man” in general cultural-

human terms. Nevertheless, when we look at ourselves, we notice that we lack

that fervor and full self-confidence. A Jew generally finds it difficult to act violently, even where

the Torah commands it.

From a superficial perspective, this is a “less religious” approach than the Muslim one, but the truth is that this is

the combination of kindness and strength of which we spoke earlier. The balance between the poles, which is the attribute of splendor,

glory, is the attribute of Israel. In Ishmael, kindness and strength are present, but they do not influence

one another. In Israel there is almost no concept of “martyrs,” and on the other hand hospitality too is

more moderate and rational.

Despite this idealization of moderation, it seems that the lack of decisiveness that characterizes the Jewish

religion is also a form of weakness. Perhaps this is the message that the Holy One, blessed be He, is sending us through

Ishmael’s current resurgence. It seems that this is one particular direction that we need to correct as a lesson

from recent events. Perhaps the measure of strength (Isaac) within our attribute of splendor (Jacob) is too low in comparison

to the measure of kindness (Abraham). It may be that Isaac’s absence is the reason that the current struggle between

wildness and splendor produces ashes—the ashes of Isaac, gathered upon the altar.

May it be God’s will that the above be for the elevation of the soul of Rabbi Gabriel Biton, of blessed memory, son of Yeruham and a man of Kfar Darom.

May God avenge his blood.

Have a peaceful Sabbath

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