Judaism – More Than Just Law

The midrashic tradition is renowned for its rich variety of interpretations and its creative retelling of biblical narratives. Yet, at various points in Jewish history, this interpretive freedom troubled voices within the Jewish tradition, who regarded it as a distraction from the Torah’s true meaning. For them, truth demanded definitive answers, and alternative readings were not necessarily understood as attempts to grapple with complex questions or make sense of difficult narratives. Rather, they were viewed as distractions that might lead readers astray. And yet, it is precisely this quality of the midrashic tradition that enables us to contend with the complexities and uncertainties of our own lives. In this sense, midrash offers not an escape from the search for truth, but a way of pursuing it in the complicated world in which we live.

Parshat Toldot opens with Yitzhak and Rivka’s struggle with infertility, recalling the similar struggle experienced by Avraham and Sarah. This age-old existential challenge echoes throughout the Tanakh. The rabbinic sages, however, established the obligation to procreate, as we learn in the Mishnah:

No man may abstain from keeping the law “Be fruitful and multiply” unless he already has children: according to the School of Shammai, two sons; according to the School of Hillel, a son and a daughter, for it is written: “Male and female He created them” (Genesis 5:2). .. (Mishnah Yevamot 6:6)

This Mishnah, as a statement of law, establishes a normative obligation. But the Torah itself recognizes that the fulfillment of this obligation is not always within human control. Yitzhak and Rivka confront precisely such a predicament:

And Yitzhak pleaded with the Lord on behalf of (nokhakh) his wife, for she was barren, and the Lord granted his plea, and Rivka his wife conceived. (Genesis 25:21)

Rabbinic midrash often draws upon the multiple meanings and possibilities contained within a biblical word. Here, the word “nokhakh” can mean “on behalf of,” but it can also mean “opposite.” This alternative reading gives rise to the following retelling, found in the Eretz Yisrael midrashic tradition:

“Opposite his wife” – This teaches that Yitzhak was prostrated here and she was prostrated there. He said: “Master of the universe, all the children that You are destined to give me will be from this righteous woman.” She, too, said: “All the children that You are destined to give me will be from this righteous man” (Bereishit Rabbah 63:5, Theodor-Albeck ed., p. 681).

In this midrash, although Rivka is the one identified as barren, each partner expresses a radical empathy for the other. Neither approaches God solely on behalf of their own desire to have children; each insists that the children they hope to receive come from their righteous partner. It is this mutuality, this shared concern and affirmation, that the midrash presents as the catalyst for God’s miraculous intervention.

A tradition preserved in the Babylonian Talmud takes a different approach to the word “nokhakh,” offering a different message:

Rabbi Yitzhak said: Our father Yitzhak was barren, for it is said: “And Isaac pleaded with the Lord opposite his wife.” It does not say “for his wife” but rather “opposite.” This teaches that both were barren. (Yevamot 64a)

Rabbi Yitzhak’s reading understands “nokhakh” to mean that Yitzhak and Rivka stood opposite one another in confronting their shared challenge. We might read his teaching as a warning against a very human tendency known as the “blame game.” Rather than offering one another empathy and recognizing their predicament as a challenge they must face together, the spouses might instead turn against one another, casting shame and blame on each other.

What we see here is that halakha, as articulated in the Mishnah, establishes normative expectations, while midrash offers different ways of exploring the emotional and deeply human responses of those who struggle to fulfill them. The two are not necessarily in conflict. Rather, midrash allows us to hear the voices and recognize the struggles of people who find themselves unable to meet the expectations that Jewish tradition places upon them. In this way, the Torah remains a living and breathing presence in the lives of its followers, accompanying them as they navigate the exigencies and uncertainties of real life.