Toldot 5786 - We exist to heal the opposites
Learning to ask difficult existential questions, in order to heal the brokenness in our world
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The drama that begins to unfold in Parashat Toldot between Esau and Jacob, the twin sons of Rebecca and Isaac, is a narrative thread in the Torah that has much to teach us about struggle, projection, suspicion, mistrust, unnecessary alienation and the promotion of alienation and differences rather than the bridging and healing of those differences.
This commentary on Parashat Toldot will focus on one verse, spoken by Rebecca, when she - her womb filled with the gestational struggle between twins Esau and Jacob - expresses in powerful and cryptic language the huge challenge of containing the opposites within ourself - which is where we must start if we hope to work to heal divisions in the world outside of ourselves.
What can we learn from Rebecca's utterance about the deep-inside-herself crisis of struggling with warring elements inside her?
At this point in the narrative, we already know the Rebecca is a woman with a sense of agency, physically and mentally strong, and courageous. In last week's Torah portion, Chayei Sarah, she has demonstrated these qualities in numerous ways (generosity, drawing a huge amount of water from the well, making a decision about her future). She has her own lech lecha moment when, asked if she will go with Abraham's servant to marry Isaac, to set out on her journey, she replies: אֵלֵֽךְ. I will go.
Rebecca and Isaac are an infertile couple after twenty years of marriage. Rebecca becomes pregnant after Isaac prays for this.
In the fourth verse of the parsha, we come to Rebecca’s existential
question that I suggest is a profound one that contains lessons for us today, at the critical moment we are in.

(כב) וַיִּתְרֹֽצְצ֤וּ הַבָּנִים֙ בְּקִרְבָּ֔הּ וַתֹּ֣אמֶר אִם־כֵּ֔ן לָ֥מָּה זֶּ֖ה אָנֹ֑כִי וַתֵּ֖לֶךְ לִדְרֹ֥שׁ אֶת־יהוה׃

(22) But the children struggled in her womb, and she said, “If so, why do I exist?” She went to inquire of יהוה.

We can all relate to this question, irrespective of whether we’ve ever been pregnant or whether our bodies have the physical potential for becoming literally pregnant. Why do I say this? Because Rebecca's question is one that arises from being at a crossroads on the journey of life. A crossroads where she is being torn apart by what feels like warring forces inside of her, and she simply doesn't know what to do.
There are three parts to this verse:
The first part: וַיִּתְרֹֽצְצ֤וּ הַבָּנִים֙ בְּקִרְבָּ֔הּ is usually translated as: “But the children struggled in her womb”.
The verb here - וַיִּתְרֽצְֹצ֤וּ- is a powerful and interesting one. It can
mean struggle; it can also mean crush, oppress, crush into pieces. And the form of the verb here - hitpael / reflexive - tells us that the subjects of the action are engaged in a process that, somehow, they’re doing to themselves.
The subject of this verb is plural - the children. We’ll be told in the next verse that Rebecca is pregnant with twins, warring parties that are struggling inside her. So there are two factors inside of her, two elements, engaged in a self-reflexive powerful, potentially destructive process.
And all of this is happening inside of Rebecca - בְּקִרְבָּ֔הּ
Note that this actually doesn’t say "in her womb"; it says inside of her (b'kirbecha). If the Torah had wanted to say “inside her womb”, we would see the usual word for womb, רֶחֶם (rechem).
But we don’t have the word that means womb; we have a word that conveys something else, something about the deep-inside-of-
her.
And to make matters even more interesting, this word - בְּקִרְבָּ֔הּ - is connected to the verb that means to draw near - √קרב (karav) -and, after all, what is closer to us, on the physical or mental or emotional or spiritual plane, than our deep-inside-of-ourself?
So as I see it, the existential question that arises from Rebecca's inner struggle is one that could arise for any and all of us. All human beings have the capacity to be pregnant with an idea, a plan, a creation, a dream of a journey, a dream of a different kind of future. All of us have the capacity to be generative and to incubate something new. And actually, irrespective of whether there is or ever has been a uterus in our body: all of us have a “deep inside ourselves.” All of us have had – or will have - experiences when we are wracked by a seemingly impossible crushing struggle inside of us. All of us.
Now we come to the existential question, the middle part of this verse:
וַתֹּ֣אמֶר אִם־כֵּ֔ן לָ֥מָּה זֶּ֖ה אָנֹ֑כִי
This is usually translated as: “and she said, "If so, why do I exist?"; but actually, these five strange, puzzling, cryptic words give us an incomplete phrase: "if so - why - this - I…."
On Sefaria and in other places one often sees a note here : “Hebrew uncertain”.
Rather than glossing over the uncertainty but translating these words in a logical manner, let's turn our attention to the uncertainty of these five words: it is the very grappling with uncertainty that these words call us to.
I suggest an alternative translation/interpretation: אִם־כֵּ֔ן "in this present moment... in the middle of all of this stuff that's going on inside of me...why... this... I..."
The uncertainty of this five word phrase accurately depicts the utter confusion we can experience when we’ve lost our sense of self, when we’ve lost our compass; when we experience when we’re being changed from the inside, from the inside out, and it’s more than we were bargaining for. We don’t know what’s going on inside of us.
This is an intensely dramatic moment of interior monologue - equal to moments in the Book of Job, in Kohelet (the book of Ecclesiastes); in Shakespeare - “To be or not to be” from Hamlet; or from Samuel Beckett's novel The Unnameable: “Where am I, I don't know, I'll never know, in the silence you don't know, you must go on, I can't go on, I'll go on.”
Rebecca is experiencing an unexpected, intense, push and pull, gut-crushing and self-identity-obliterating struggle inside of her. I imagine that she is breathless from the physical and also from the
mental pain and apprehension and anguish of this moment … she can barely come forth with a full sentence… and she says "if…so… why… this… I…"
We’re left to fill in the blanks, so to speak. What is Rebecca
asking? What might each of us be asking at a similar moment of
unexpected inner struggle and loss of our compass?
We might be asking: What I am going through… What does this
mean? Where am I going? How can I continue? What is the purpose of this journey? Why me? What is the meaning of my life in the context of these wrenching challenges? How can it be that I’m being crushed and torn apart by my own dreams and aspirations?
In this moment, Rebecca is bringing a kind of mindfulness to the struggle inside her of which she is becoming aware. "I am experiencing a violent struggle inside myself. I am noticing that this is going on" - and the noticing, the naming, is the first step in bringing the struggle into awareness, so that it can be understood and resolved.
And I further suggest that we can extrapolate from the personal to the collective: after all, Rebecca is an ancestor, a foremother.
These moments are deeply challenging, often without evident answers. We know that existential questions accompany journeys, ofncourse. Abraham is said to have been tested by God ten times. What do we do, where do we turn, at profoundly challenging moments, when we are being tested?
Where will we find our answer?
The third part of the verse suggests where we can turn, how we can move forward with our critical existential questions.
וַתֵּ֖לֶךְ לִדְרֹ֥שׁ אֶת־יהוה׃
Rebecca goes - וַתֵּ֖לֶךְ - to inquire, to seek an answer - לִדְר֥שֹׁ
from God. It’s notable that the verse doesn’t simply say that Rebecca “asks” God; it says that she “goes to ask”.
וַתֵּ֖לֶךְלִדְרֹ֥שׁ
The verb that indicates the “going” - תֵּ֖לֶךְ - is the very same as in lech lecha and as in Rebecca’s one-word affirmative answer when she agreed to her journey to be Isaac’s wife in Chayei Sarah.
I will go. I will walk. I will be on my journey. I will go to the new land. I will go to inquire of God.
What I see in this verse is that when we are beset with inner struggles and uncertainties that threaten to tear us apart, and that lead to existential questions that can be so difficult to articulate - then we have the imperative to let the questions arise, unformed as they may be, and to be on an active path to seek for answers. Our uncertainty and our questioning are also part of our journey.
What’s more - this verse teaches us to cultivate an authentic interiority, that allows us too be in conversation not only with
ourselves but also with a source of wisdom and comfort outside of
ourselves. For many of us, this means being in conversation with God.
Interestingly very few of our commentators explore the existential
dimension of Rebecca’s question or how it leads her to prayer. Rashi and other early commentators focus on her apprehensions about being pregnant, with what seems like an unusual pregnancy. I’m much more interested in what Rebecca is asking about herself and what she is asking of God: she is in a situation where she knows is going to be changed. It seems to be out of her hands - and – indeed, it is out of her hands. Yes, she agreed to come on this journey. But… did she agree to be torn apart and crushed by the complexity of what she would go through?
There are a few contemporary commentators (all women, interestingly) who share my curiosity and interest in the theological and existential dimension of Rebecca’s question. Rabbi Beth Singer, a Reform Rabbi in San Francisco, wrote about this verse in The Women’s Torah Commentary (2000), emphasizing the values that Rebecca teaches us - “the values of prayer, of looking for significance in life’s struggles, and of understanding our capacity to be God’s partners” (p. 76).
As I am, Rabbi Singer is interested in the “telech lidrosh” - that
Rebecca went and inquired of God, and comments that this teaches us that it is Rebecca who initiated this human-Divine interaction… [which] suggests that Rebecca is already in possession of a strong spiritual life when she goes to inquire [of God]”. Rabbi Singer conceptualizes Rebecca’s question as a “heartfelt prayer” and reminds us that “asking existential questions is part of the spiritual process of discovering meaning in our lives”.
In my commentary here, I am interested in expanding the spiritual process of discovering meaning in our lives beyond the domain of the personal. I am interested in utilizing these teachings as verses that can teach us to move towards taking action for social justice and for rectifying wrongs in the world.
With this, consider: the verb for Rebecca's asking of God: לִדְרֹ֥שׁ lidrosh (to ask, to inquire, to consult, to investigate) not only is at the central, beating heart of Judaism. It is at the very center point of the entire Torah (calculated by word count)!

(טז) וְאֵ֣ת ׀ שְׂעִ֣יר הַֽחַטָּ֗את דָּרֹ֥שׁ דָּרַ֛שׁ מֹשֶׁ֖הוְהִנֵּ֣ה שֹׂרָ֑ף וַ֠יִּקְצֹ֠ף עַל־אֶלְעָזָ֤ר וְעַל־אִֽיתָמָר֙ בְּנֵ֣י אַהֲרֹ֔ן הַנּוֹתָרִ֖ם לֵאמֹֽר׃

(16) Then Moses inquired (intensively asked) about the goat of sin offering, and it had already been burned! He was angry with Eleazar and Ithamar, Aaron’s remaining sons, and said...

This verse from Leviticus comes in Parashat Shemini, after the death of Aaron's sons Nadav and Avihu. I bring this verse not to explore its content here but to emphasize the centrality of asking / inquiring / seeking / investigating.
At a moment in history when it seems that our ethical compasses are in disarray, the act of deep investigation can help us recalibrate our way ethically. When we deeply asking ourselves: What do I know is right? What do the texts and traditions I love teach me?
The nascent story of Esau and Jacob - making their first appearance in our verse as factors that are crushing each other, even in utero - is a critically important story for us today. In our cities, in our country, in struggles the world over, we repeatedly see that hatred and mistrust of "the other" leads to widespread suffering, displacement, famine, death.
Toward the end of Parashat Chayei Sarah, after Abraham has died, we read that Isaac and Ishmael together bury their father:

(ט) וַיִּקְבְּר֨וּ אֹת֜וֹ יִצְחָ֤ק וְיִשְׁמָעֵאל֙ בָּנָ֔יו אֶל־מְעָרַ֖ת הַמַּכְפֵּלָ֑ה אֶל־שְׂדֵ֞ה עֶפְרֹ֤ן בֶּן־צֹ֙חַר֙ הַֽחִתִּ֔י אֲשֶׁ֖ר עַל־פְּנֵ֥י מַמְרֵֽא׃

(9) His sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the cave of Machpelah, in the field of Ephron son of Zohar the Hittite, facing Mamre,

And at the end of this week's parsha, we will read that Esau "goes to" Ishmael and marries one of Ishmael's daughters:

(ט) וַיֵּ֥לֶךְ עֵשָׂ֖ו אֶל־יִשְׁמָעֵ֑אל וַיִּקַּ֡ח אֶֽת־מָחֲלַ֣ת ׀ בַּת־יִשְׁמָעֵ֨אל בֶּן־אַבְרָהָ֜ם אֲח֧וֹת נְבָי֛וֹת עַל־נָשָׁ֖יו ל֥וֹ לְאִשָּֽׁה׃ {ס}

(9) So Esau went to Ishmael and took to wife, in addition to the wives he had, Mahalath the daughter of Ishmael son of Abraham, sister of Nebaioth.

In a few weeks, in Parashat Vayishlach, we will read of an affiliative moment between Esau and Jacob after their decades of mistrustful estrangement. Please see my commentary Vayishlach 5785 Esau's kiss: an affiliative and healing act: "Righteousness and peace have kissed"
In today’s post-modern world, it seems that we are all too inclined to look for instant answers outside of ourselves to our deepest existential questions. Let us not outsource the genuine inner work that is necessary to struggle with life’s deepest questions. Let us cultivate our capacity to ask questions, to search for answers. Let us ask the very difficult, gut- and psyche-crushing existential questions, within ourselves and within our communities. Let us go and seek answers from sources of learning that teach us the most basic principles of affiliation and respect.

(ט) וַיִּהְי֣וּ הַכְּרֻבִים֩ פֹּרְשֵׂ֨י כְנָפַ֜יִם לְמַ֗עְלָה סֹֽכְכִ֤ים בְּכַנְפֵיהֶם֙ עַל־הַכַּפֹּ֔רֶת וּפְנֵיהֶ֖ם אִ֣ישׁ אֶל־אָחִ֑יו אֶ֨ל־הַכַּפֹּ֔רֶת הָי֖וּ פְּנֵ֥י הַכְּרֻבִֽים׃ {פ}

(9) The cherubim had their wings spread out above, shielding the cover with their wings. They faced each other; the faces of the cherubim were turned toward the cover.

(יא) חֶסֶד־וֶאֱמֶ֥ת נִפְגָּ֑שׁוּ צֶ֖דֶק וְשָׁל֣וֹם נָשָֽׁקוּ׃

(11) Faithfulness and truth have met; righteousness and peace have kissed.

(א) שִׁ֥יר הַֽמַּעֲל֗וֹת לְדָ֫וִ֥ד הִנֵּ֣ה מַה־טּ֭וֹב וּמַה־נָּעִ֑ים שֶׁ֖בֶת אַחִ֣ים גַּם־יָֽחַד׃

(1) A song of ascents. Of David. How good and how pleasant it is that brothers dwell together.

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