By Rabbi Moishe New
A MIRACLE THE TORAH DOESN’T MENTION
In this week’s Parshah, Chayei Sarah, we read something quite extraordinary, yet the Torah records it almost matter-of-factly, without indicating that anything miraculous has occurred.
We are all familiar with the remarkable circumstances surrounding the birth of Yitzchak. Avraham was one hundred years old, Sarah was ninety, and the possibility of their having a child was so far beyond the natural order that when Sarah first heard the promise, she laughed in disbelief. Yet the miracle occurred, and Yitzchak was born.
Forty years later, however, the Torah tells us that Avraham married Keturah, identified by our Sages as Hagar, whom he had previously sent away at Sarah’s request. They had six children together. Avraham was now one hundred and forty years old!
Surely, if the birth of one child at the age of one hundred was such an extraordinary miracle, the birth of six children forty years later should have been an even greater one. Yet the Torah offers no expression of wonder.
One might suggest that the miracle which enabled Avraham to father Yitzchak simply continued throughout his life. Perhaps he had been rejuvenated at one hundred, and that rejuvenation remained with him.
But in the intervening narrative, when Avraham instructs his servant Eliezer to find a wife for Yitzchak, the Torah explicitly describes Avraham as old. His advanced age was still a reality.
How, then, are we to understand the birth of six additional children? And why does the Torah not identify this as another miracle?
The Rebbe offers a profound explanation, one that reveals the significance of Yitzchak’s birth and the very purpose of the Jewish people.
A JOY SHARED BY THE ENTIRE WORLD
When Yitzchak was born, Sarah declared, “G-d has made laughter for me; whoever hears will rejoice with me.”
Why should everyone rejoice? Certainly, Avraham and Sarah had every reason to celebrate. But why should the entire world share in their joy?
Rashi explains that on the day Yitzchak was born, many barren women conceived, many sick people were healed, and many prayers were answered. Sarah’s personal miracle brought an extraordinary outpouring of blessing throughout the world.
We encounter this phenomenon again when Yitzchak was weaned. Sarah declares, “Who would have said to Avraham that Sarah would nurse children?”
Notice the plural: children.
Rashi explains that the noblewomen of the time brought their infants to Sarah, and she nursed them as well. This also dispelled the accusations of those who claimed that Yitzchak was not truly her child.
But surely nursing even one additional child would have been sufficient to demonstrate that her ability to give birth and nurse had been miraculously restored. Why was it necessary for her to nurse so many?
The answer lies in the significance of Yitzchak’s birth. The blessings it brought were not confined to his family. They extended to the world around him.
The same principle explains the later miracle involving Avraham. His six additional children, who would become the ancestors of nations and whom he sent eastward, represented a continuation of the blessing that began with Yitzchak’s birth.
The Torah does not describe this as a separate miracle because it was part of the original one.
But why was Yitzchak’s birth bound up with the welfare of humanity?
THE MISSION BEGINS WITH YITZCHAK
Yitzchak was the first Jew born to a Jewish father and mother. Avraham and Sarah became the founders of the Jewish people, but Yitzchak was born into that identity.
Rashi explains that the Torah begins with the word Bereishis, which alludes to two things described as “first”: the Torah and the Jewish people. The world was created for their sake.
This does not mean that the Jewish people are to live apart from the rest of humanity, concerned exclusively with their own spiritual development. Quite the contrary. The Torah and the Jewish people were given the mission of illuminating the entire world.
A Jew cannot be satisfied with personal spiritual achievement alone, however precious that achievement may be. Our responsibility extends beyond ourselves, our families and our communities. We are charged with being a light unto the nations, ultimately bringing the entire world to recognize its Creator.
This mission is integral to Jewish identity, and was therefore already expressed at Yitzchak’s birth.
Yet the manner in which that blessing reached the world reveals another profound dimension of our purpose.
THE POWER OF DOING AND THE POWER OF BEING
Consider the difference between what occurred through Sarah and what occurred through Avraham.
When Sarah gave birth to Yitzchak, people throughout the world experienced miracles without her undertaking any additional action. Later, the blessing extended to the children she nursed. Her very state of being, transformed through G-d’s blessing, became a source of blessing to others.
Avraham’s influence required deliberate engagement. He remarried, fathered children and sent them eastward, extending his influence to distant lands and peoples. It was something accomplished through action, forty years later.
The Rebbe explains that these represent two distinct dimensions of spiritual influence, reflected in the masculine and feminine modes.
One operates through doing: teaching, engaging, persuading and actively transforming the world. The other operates through being: the power of a life so permeated with holiness that its very presence awakens something within others.
When we persuade another person, we introduce ideas that may change their thinking and behaviour. But when a person encounters genuine holiness and is moved by it, the transformation comes from within. The desire to embrace the truth becomes their own.
Both dimensions are essential. And remarkably, we find them reflected in the Rambam’s presentation of Jewish law and in his description of the Messianic era.
FROM PERSUASION TO INNER CONVICTION
The Rambam, in his Mishneh Torah, teaches that Moshe Rabbeinu was commanded by G-d to influence the inhabitants of the world to accept the Seven Noahide Laws, the universal commandments that form the foundation of a moral and civilized society.
In the following law, however, the Rambam introduces an additional dimension.
He explains that a non-Jew who observes these commandments because G-d commanded them through Moshe at Sinai is considered among the pious of the nations. Observing them merely because they are intellectually reasonable, without accepting their Divine origin, does not confer that same spiritual designation.
Why does the Rambam divide these teachings into two separate laws?
The Rebbe explains that the first describes our responsibility to engage the world actively, explaining and promoting the observance of the Seven Noahide Laws. The second describes a deeper level, in which the individual embraces these commandments because they are the will of G-d.
Significantly, the Rambam does not formulate this second level as another obligation imposed upon us to produce that conviction in someone else. It describes what the individual has come to recognize and accept.
This deeper recognition cannot simply be manufactured through argument. Intellectual persuasion may lead a person to appreciate the wisdom of a Divine commandment, but recognizing its sanctity involves something beyond intellectual agreement.
When one encounters a life permeated with holiness, a person whose relationship with G-d is genuine and deeply felt, something within one’s own soul can be stirred. The desire to connect with G-d then emerges from within.
THE TWO STAGES OF REDEMPTION
We find precisely these two dimensions in the Rambam’s description of Moshiach and the Messianic era.
In his eleventh chapter of the Laws of Kings, the Rambam describes Moshiach as an extraordinarily active leader. He will strengthen Torah observance among the Jewish people, repair breaches in Jewish practice, fight the wars of G-d, build the Beis Hamikdash and gather the dispersed of Israel.
He will then perfect the world, motivating the nations to serve G-d together.
But when the Rambam concludes his work with a description of the Messianic era itself, the language changes dramatically.
He describes a world without famine, war, envy or competition, in which goodness will be abundant and humanity’s occupation will be the knowledge of G-d.
He concludes with the magnificent prophecy of Yeshayahu: “The earth will be filled with the knowledge of G-d as the waters cover the ocean bed.”
Notice what is absent from this description. There is no discussion of convincing, compelling or persuading the nations. The entire world is naturally occupied with knowing G-d.
The prophets describe this beautifully in their vision of the nations streaming toward the mountain of G-d, declaring of their own accord, “Let us go up to the mountain of G-d.”
What begins with the determined effort to bring holiness into the world culminates in a world that recognizes and embraces holiness of its own accord.
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF A NAME
We can now appreciate another remarkable detail concerning Avraham and Sarah.
Before Yitzchak could be born, both had to undergo a change of name.
Originally, Avraham was called Avram, a name associated with being an exalted father. The name Avraham, however, signifies a father of a multitude of nations.
Similarly, Sarai means “my princess,” whereas Sarah signifies a princess whose significance extends to all.
The Rebbe explains that this change was not merely a prerequisite for the physical miracle of Yitzchak’s birth. Their new names expressed the universal dimension of the Jewish people who would descend from them.
LIVING ON THE THRESHOLD OF REDEMPTION
There is a beautiful parallel here to Shabbos.
During the six days of the week, we work to refine and elevate the world through our actions. Shabbos represents a different dimension. Shabbos is called the Queen and the Bride. Its holiness is not primarily achieved through work, but through being.
We are living, as the Rebbe repeatedly emphasized, on the threshold of the Messianic era. We must continue to act, to teach, to reach out and to use every available resource to spread G-dliness throughout the world. But our influence cannot rest upon activity alone.
Our Judaism must not be based merely upon the beauty of its philosophy, the strength of its arguments or the wisdom of its teachings, profound as these are. Our connection with Hashem is rooted in something infinitely deeper: the sanctity of the relationship itself, a connection that transcends intellect while illuminating every dimension of life.
We embrace Torah and mitzvos because they are the will of Hashem, because through them we connect with G-d Himself. When that awareness permeates our lives, when our Yiddishkeit becomes an expression of genuine holiness and soulfulness, its influence extends far beyond what words alone can accomplish.
May we merit the complete and immediate realization of that vision, with the coming of Moshiach, when the entire world will be filled with the knowledge of Hashem.