PARSHAS LECH LECHA

וַ יִׁ גַ דל הּ י ל וַד יִ ג מ ל וַַּי דֹול ב י ום ה ג מ אֵּל

ג

עַׂש אְַב רָ ה ת יְִצ חָק.

ם מְִׁשֶּׁתּה

And the child grew and was weaned, and Avraham made a great feast on the day that Yitzchak was weaned.

(Bereishis 21:8)

THE GIFT OF THE CRADLE

The Midrash (Bereishis Rabbah 53:10) relates that the great men of the generation gathered to celebrate with Avraham Avinu at the feast he prepared in celebration of Yitzchak’s birth (on the day of his bris; see Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer 29). Among them was Og, king of Bashan.

They said to Og, “Did you not say that Avraham is a barren mule who cannot have children? Now a son has been born to him!” He answered them, “Now, what is his gift? Is it not something small and frail? If I were to lay my finger on him, I would crush him.” The Holy One, blessed be He, said to him, “Why do you belittle the gift I gave him? By your life, you will see thousands upon thousands and myriads upon myriads come forth from the descendants of this child, and in the end that man [you, Og] will fall by his hand.” R’ Levi said, “Never since the beginning of the world had a cradle been rocked, until it was rocked in the house of Avraham Avinu.”

The words of this Midrash are profound, yet they leave us with two questions.

First, what does it mean that a cradle was first rocked in the house of Avraham Avinu? Children had been born into the world before Yitzchak. Why does R’ Levi suggest that this was a new phenomenon?

Second, what depth lies in Hashem’s answer to Og? Og had dismissed Yitzchak as a frail infant, and Hashem responded that thousands upon thousands and myriads upon myriads would eventually emerge from this very child. But how does the multitude of Yitzchak’s descendants answer Og’s claim about the child’s vulnerability?

To understand the depth of the Midrash, we must first appreciate a fundamental distinction between the worldview of the nations and the sacred way of life established through Avraham Avinu.

Ask Your Father

The bnei Noach measure existence by the physical world, where strength and independence are the primary measures of greatness. The mighty warrior, who can impose his will through the strength of his arm, is worthy of admiration. Dependence upon another, by contrast, is a deficiency. A person who cannot stand on his own is regarded as weak, and one who must rely upon others seems to lack the qualities necessary for greatness.

Bnei Avraham Avinu, by contrast, were given an entirely different mission. Klal Yisrael was chosen to become Hashem’s treasured nation, a people who know Him, are mekabel His Torah, and carry His truth from one generation to the next. Their greatness does not rest upon independence from those who came before them. Quite the contrary. It rests upon their willingness to receive the sacred inheritance of their fathers and faithfully transmit it to their children.

This is the meaning of the pasuk (Devarim 32:7), שאל אביך ויגדך זקניך ויאמרו לך – “Ask your father and he will tell you, your elders and they will say it to you.” The Torah directs us to look backward, to the wisdom and faith of the generations that preceded us. A Yid does not have to discover the truth anew in every generation. He is born into a living tradition, rooted in the faith of Avraham Avinu and carried forward by the fathers and mothers who came before him. He receives from his forebears a heritage that is greater than himself, and through his dveikus to their ways, he becomes part of something eternal.

Perhaps this is the deeper meaning of the Midrash’s teaching that the cradle first rocked in the house of Avraham Avinu. Yitzchak was the first to enter the world as a helpless infant, for he would be the first to carry forward a sacred legacy—the Torah and emunah that Avraham Avinu had discovered and brought into the world. And the very dependence of an infant, its need to be carried, nourished, and sheltered, is the foundation of a bond between generations through which mesorah is lovingly received and faithfully passed on.

What appears, from a purely physical perspective, to be a limitation is, in the world of Avraham Avinu, the very beginning of greatness. The infant’s dependence is not merely something he must outgrow. It is the beginning of his connection to those who will teach him who he is, where he comes from, and what he is destined to carry forward. The very smallness that the world may regard as weakness is actually the vessel through which Torah, emunah, and our sacred mesorah are transmitted from generation to generation.

The Greatness of a Nation

This understanding also sheds light on Rashi’s commentary on the famous first words of Lech Lecha. The pasuk states (Bereishis 12:1–2), “Hashem said to Avram: Go for yourself from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father’s house, to the land that I will show you, and I will make you into a great nation.” Rashi explains, שם אעשך לגוי גדול, וכאן אי אתה זוכה לבנים, ועוד שאודיע טבעך בעולם – “There I will make you into a great nation, but here you will not merit children; and furthermore, I will make your nature known in the world.”

Here too, two questions come to mind. What is the particular greatness of the nation Hashem promised to Avraham Avinu? And how does that promise relate to the continuation of Rashi’s words, “and furthermore, I will make your nature known in the world”?

It seems that the distinction of “a great nation” spoken of here is measured not only by the number of its people but primarily by its closeness to HaKadosh Baruch Hu. Indeed, the Midrash (Bereishis Rabbah 39:11) interpreted this promise as referring to the nation of whom it is said (Devarim 4:7), כי מי גוי גדול אשר לו אלקים קרובים אליו – “For which is a great nation that has G-d so close to it?”

In other words, Avraham was promised that he would establish a nation distinguished by the closeness of Hakadosh Baruch Hu, Who draws near to them and enables them to draw near to Him. A people whose lives are shaped by His Torah and whose homes become places where His presence and teachings are cherished, preserved, and transmitted. As the Torah itself testifies about Avraham (Bereishis 18:19), כי ידעתיו למען אשר יצוה את בניו ואת ביתו אחריו ושמרו דרך ד׳ – “For I have loved him because he will command his children and his household after him, and they will keep the way of Hashem.”

With this in mind, we can understand the connection between Rashi’s two statements. The promise, “I will make you into a great nation,” speaks of the extraordinary spiritual stature of Avraham’s descendants. And the words, “I will make your nature known in the world,” reveal how that stature would come to light—through transmission from father to son.

In this sense, טבעך refers not only to Avraham’s own character but also to the new nature he introduced to the world. From Yitzchak’s birth onward, man would be born a small, helpless child, dependent on his parents for his very existence—because this dependence would enable him to absorb their ways and middos. Thus, the teachings of Avraham Avinu would indeed become an inheritance for his descendants, carried forward through the generations and renewed in every Yiddisher home.

Greatness Hidden in Smallness

We can now return to the exchange between Hashem and Og and discover its deeper meaning.

Og looked at Yitzchak and saw only weakness. Here was a tiny child who could not stand on his own, who depended upon others for nourishment and protection, and whom Og could crush with a single finger. By Og’s standards, Yitzchak possessed nothing worthy of admiration.

But the very quality Og dismissed was the beginning of a greatness that would ultimately encompass multitudes.

Yes, the infant could not stand on his own. He needed to be cradled, and he needed to be rocked. But through this very dependence, he was bound to the people who cared for him. He grew within their embrace, surrounded by their love and formed by their example.

Yitzchak was raised in a home filled with the knowledge of Hashem and the devotion of a father who had dedicated his life to serving Him. The ways of Avraham were the foundation of Yitzchak’s life and, therefore, Yitzchak would carry that inheritance forward to Yaakov. Yaakov would transmit it to the Shevatim, and from them it would continue through thousands upon thousands and myriads upon myriads of Yidden.

Each generation would begin in the same way. Every child would enter the world small and tender, needing to be carried, nurtured, and taught. Yet that very dependence would allow him to receive the Torah and emunah of those who came before him. What Og saw as frailty was the means by which the greatest spiritual inheritance in the world would pass from one generation to the next.

There is, therefore, a profound connection between Og’s mockery and Hashem’s response. Og spoke of Yitzchak’s weakness and dependence, and Hashem answered with the multitudes who would descend from him, because his dependence was how the multitudes would come to be. Through being small and helpless, Klal Yisrael are bound to their parents, receive Torah and emunah from them, and pass it on to their own children, until thousands upon thousands and myriads upon myriads carry the legacy of the Avos HaKedoshim.

In the end, Og himself would fall by these multitudes (Bamidbar 21:34). The man who had boasted that he could crush Yitzchak would ultimately be defeated by the descendants of that very child. The generations that grew from the cradle he had scorned would reveal the truth he had failed to see: that the source of their strength came precisely from that cradle.

Where Chinuch Begins

To better understand the importance of chinuch in infancy, even before a child possesses the da’as to comprehend, it’s worth mentioning the Yerushalmi (Chagigah 2:1), cited by Tosafos (Chagigah 15a), which relates a teaching about Elisha ben Avuyah, who later became known as Achar. While his mother was expecting him, she passed by houses of avodah zara and smelled the scent of their offerings. That scent spread through her body like the venom of a snake and ultimately influenced his spiritual decline.

This account underscores that an impression can be formed even before a child enters the world. A mark can be left upon a developing soul long before the child possesses the intellectual capacity to understand it. And if this is true of the influence of tumah, how much more must it be true of the power of kedushah. As Chazal teach, the measure of good is greater than the measure of punishment (Yoma 76a).

Chinuch, therefore, cannot first begin when a child is old enough to learn, understand, or perform a mitzvah consciously. We learn from the cradle that first rocked in the house of Avraham Avinu that a child is shaped by the people he depends on. He grows accustomed to their voices, absorbs their ways, and learns to find security in their presence. Long before a child can articulate what he believes, he can grow surrounded by the living expression of that belief. Before he can comprehend the meaning of Torah, he can be nurtured in a home where Torah is cherished. Before he can consciously choose the ways of his parents, his life is already woven into theirs, formed by the example they embody before him.

This is the yesod that my grandfather, the Minchas Elazar, teaches in his sefer Os Chaim V’Shalom (262:2):

One must be exacting in raising children and in their clothing, even from their cradle and their earliest childhood, to keep them as far as possible from the customs of the nations.

The Minchas Elazar was emphatic that the responsibility of chinuch begins from the earliest moments of a child’s life. Even while the infant lies in his cradle, the home surrounding him should reflect the ways of our holy forefathers. His clothing, even in infancy, the words spoken in his presence, the sights and sounds that fill his surroundings must all be shaped by kedushah and taharah.

Shalom Zachar

This understanding illuminates the minhag of making a Shalom Zachar on the first Friday night after the birth of a boy, as recorded by the Rema (Yoreh De’ah 265:12). The source of the minhag is the Terumas HaDeshen (269), based on Tosafos (Bava Kamma 80a).

The Turei Zahav (265:13) cites the Drishah, who explains that people visit the newborn because he is mourning the Torah he has forgotten. R’ Yaakov Emden, in his Migdal Oz (introduction), offers a related explanation, writing that the minhag is called “Zachar” from the word zikaron, remembrance, so that the child should remember the Torah he learned in his mother’s womb (see Niddah 30b).

At first glance, this is difficult to understand. What does it mean to comfort an infant over the Torah he has forgotten? How can we speak of reminding him of something he cannot consciously remember, or of mourning a loss he is not yet capable of recognizing?

Perhaps the answer lies in the very foundation of chinuch that we have discussed. Even when a child cannot yet understand what he is receiving, his soul is being imprinted by the atmosphere of his home. When we gather around the newborn and recall the Torah he learned in his mother’s womb, we are affirming that his connection to Torah has already begun. He is already a link in the chain of our generations, and the Torah is already his inheritance.

This is the avodah our parshah begs of every parent. Chinuch does not begin when a child is old enough to sit over a Gemara, recite the words of a siddur, or understand the meaning of a mitzvah. It begins with the Modeh Ani whispered beside his crib, the Shema sung at his bedside, and the zemiros he hears at his father’s Shabbos table long before he understands their words. It begins with his dependence on the adults who care for him, in the warmth of a home in which Torah is loved, mitzvos are cherished, and the presence of Hashem is woven into the ordinary rhythms of daily life.

These moments may seem small, and their influence may not be immediately visible. Yet they form the foundation upon which a Jewish life is built. The love and devotion a child depends on in his earliest years, and the Torah and emunah he encounters from his very first moments, connect him to the child in that first cradle in the house of Avraham Avinu and prepare him to become a faithful link through which our heilige mesorah will continue.

May it be the will of our Father in Heaven that we merit to fulfill this sacred responsibility with love, wisdom, and devotion. May we receive the Torah and emunah of our fathers with gratitude and faithfulness, and transmit them to our children from their very earliest days. May we, our children, and our children’s children all merit to know His Name and learn His Torah lishmah, and may we merit the Geulah Sheleimah, with the arrival of ben Dovid, speedily in our days, through His abundant mercy and kindness.