Someone wishing to convert to Judaism asked Rabbi Hillel to summarize Judaism on one foot and he responded, “What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor. The rest is commentary. Now go and learn!” When Rabbi Menachem Mendel Leffin of Satnov wrote Cheshbon HaNefesh, the Accounting of the Soul, he used “What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor” as the remez, the one-sentence summary, for the middah (soul-trait) Tzedek, or Right Action.
A perfect example of how NOT to fulfill this middah appears in this week’s parsha, Toldot. Isaac and Rebecca move to Gerar and Isaac is afraid that people will kill him on account of his wife Rebecca, because she is beautiful, and so he lies and says she is his sister. This is a perfect example of how our yetzer hara, our tendency to selfishness, is activated. First, Isaac is afraid and acts out of his fear. This is very often the case when our yetzer hara is activated – we are afraid of something. Sometimes, this fear is justified – and this is why G!d created us with a yetzer hara in the first place. However, much more often for most of us, it is not, and our fearful action is the wrong action.
Second, his yetzer hara distorts his relationships to others. He lies about Rebecca, claiming she is his sister rather than his wife. He has a distorted – and, as it turns out, inaccurate – view of the inhabitants of Gerar and its king, Avimelech. His concern with his own well-being to the exclusion of others causes him to not be able to see the others for who they really are.
Avimelech then looks out the window and is upset to see Isaac engaging in an activity with Rebecca that spouses engage in but siblings do not. The 1917 JPS translation says “Isaac was sporting with Rebekah his wife” while the Kehot (Chabad) translation has “gladdening” – this being a discussion of Tzedek and not Tznius, I’ll leave it at that. But the Hebrew is very interesting – Yitzchok metzachek et Rivkah ishto. Yitzchok and metzachek are from the same root, meaning to laugh or play. This pun speaks to the fact that Isaac in this moment is bringing his full self in his yetzer hatov in his love of Rebecca – who here is called his wife, seeing and acknowledging who she really is. It could be translated as “Isaac was Isaacing with Rebeccas his wife.”
The grammar teaches us even more. Yitzchok is in the imperfect tense – in modern Hebrew, the future – “he will laugh/sport/gladden” – that is, he is potentially who he is meant to be but not yet actualized. Metzachek is the participle – in modern Hebrew the present – and so in this moment, acting out of his yetzer hatov, his concern for and participation in the well-being of the other, in this case his wife Rebecca, the potential becomes the actual and he is in this moment actually who he is meant to be, not merely potentially. Furthermore, metzachek is the Pi’el participle, which has the added meaning of being emphatic – thus, the phrase could be translated as “Isaac was REALLY Isaacing with Rebecca his wife” – so he is very vibrantly and emphatically in that moment who he is meant to be – who he is at his core. Also, as my friend Rabbi Geoff Basik pointed out to me, living in his yetzer hatov and being vibrantly himself brings great joy to both himself and Rebecca.
And that is the contrast between the yetzer hara and the yetzer hatov – fear vs. joy – distortion vs. truth – constriction vs. expansiveness.
Of course, this story appears two other time in the book of Genesis. In parshat Lech Lecha, Abraham has the same fear for his life and tells the same lie about Sarah his wife – and Pharaoh takes Sarah but is unable to do anything due to a plague. Again, in parshat Vayera, Abraham tells the same lie about Sarah – this time to Avimelech, who is warned in a dream that they are actually spouses. (Avimelech means “my father the king” and is a title rather than a name, and the Avimelech Isaac encounters is almost certainly the son of the one his father encounters.)
This teaches us that often, our fearfulness and distortion of the truth come for our upbringing – our parents, our extended family and community, our country. I say this not to blame these people who passed along their fears and distortions – but to point out how difficult it is for us to even notice and see them. However, this difficulty does not absolve us of the responsibility to see them and heal from them. In healing them, we can cease from doing that which is hateful to us to our neighbor.
May we, in the merit of Isaac becoming himself in laughter, in sport, in gladdening, overcome our fears, our distortions, our lies – our selfish yetzer hara – and embrace the joy of serving others and living in joy through our yetzer hatov.