In my tenure as chairperson of a middle school child study team, I watched the pendulum swing back and forth in the arenas of parenting and education. At one extreme, parents and educators argue over the need to protect students from failure, or even minimal challenges, at all costs; at the other end of the continuum they refuse to accept or apply justifiable modifications and accommodations for learning/cognitive/emotional disabilities or preferential learning styles. While the tendency to carry ideas and trends to the extreme can be detrimental, it is important to avoid throwing out the baby with the bathwater. Falling back on reliable research and good old common sense, is always helpful. Yet, we have the gift of the Torah as a foolproof guide to what really works in relationships, raising and educating our children, and producing confident and productive adults.
In the Bereishit stories, we learned that a low score on the “emunah scale” is a major culprit in man’s failure to actuate his God-given potential. This holds true for faith in God as well as faith in ourselves. For example, Noach was referred to by the commentators as a m’katnei emunah. Given the fact that he was also considered a tzadik b’doro—a righteous man in his generation, his lack of faith could not be attributed to a flaw in his belief in God. This would suggest that it was Noach’s failure to believe that he was up to the task that prevented him from influencing his generation to walk in the ways of God. This lack of self-esteem also reared its ugly head in the wake of the flood. Despite the days Noach and his family spent in the teivah preparing for life after the mabul, he was overwhelmed by the prospect of building an olam chadash, a new world. As a result, he first grew a vineyard and got drunk. Surely this was not the best way to take on his well-earned position as CEO of the “new world,” second in command to God.
This flaw in self-esteem crops up again in the case of Sarah Imeinu. We learn that upon hearing the good news that her prayers for a child would soon be answered, she burst into laughter. According to some, her response was not due to a lack of emunah in Hashem’s ability to defy nature; rather, it was a matter of low self-esteem. Sarah did not have faith in her ability to raise a baby, let alone one destined to greatness, at her advanced age. Still, low self-esteem is not the only culprit in this matter. An even more pervasive barrier to the actuation of one’s life mission is the shame that goes along with it; this is because we fail to understand that self-doubt is a feeling the best of us experience, and that there are those we can rely on for help. It is for this reason that the vulnerabilities of our Patriarchal families are exposed, and we are privy to their successes as well as their failures. In doing so our Torah teaches us that there is no shame in failures, and that greatness is achieved through learning from one’s mistakes and transcending one’s challenges.
In Parshat Toldot, it is Rivkah who very early in her marriage enlisted the help of Yitzchak, when she asked him to pray to God to end her state of infertility. Yet, the commentators weigh in on the implication in the text that it was only Yitzchak who engaged in prayer. Rashi, however, assures us that Rivkah did in fact daven, but that the failure to mention her prayer is “because the prayer of a tzadik who is also the child of a tzadik is not the same as the prayer of a tzadik who is the child of a rasha.” I was always troubled with this explanation because it seems that it is an indictment against Rivkah, suggesting that her tefillah reflected a qualitative difference in “worthiness” when compared to Yitzchak’s prayer. While some agree with Rashi, there is a debate among the commentators on this matter as well. Some argue that while there was a difference, it does not mean that Rivkah was unworthy of a child who would reach greatness; rather, it was her lack of confidence in her own ability to mother such a child that impacted the quality of her prayer. As a result, she needed the support of Yitzchak’s tefillot to complement her own efforts.
Indeed, there is much to be learned from the spiritual and emotional progression reflected in the character development of the Imahot and Avot. When Sarah felt unworthy of raising a child at her advanced stage in life, she did not ask for help from her beloved; in fact, she included Avraham as being in the same “boat,” of old age.” Perhaps she even questioned his ability to rise to the task. Yet, it is this lapse in self-esteem that makes them so human and real. At one time or another, most of us can relate to the ups and downs we experience, especially during transitions when we enter new and uncharted stages in life. These stories encourage us to believe in ourselves and to ask for help when necessary. They also teach us a thing or two about how we still have the potential for greatness at every stage, even though the manifestations of this greatness may be different. The most important lesson to be gleaned is that oftentimes it is perceived rather than real limitations that serve as the greatest barriers in reaching our goals.
In the case of Rivkah, even though she did not grow up in a home of God-fearing people, we learned that she was selected as a wife for Yitzchak because of her innate qualities that made her special and well-equipped to transcend her background. It was Rivkah’s own lack of confidence, rather than “real” flaws, that caused her feelings of unworthiness, which, in turn, impacted the quality of her tefilah. Still, she was on the mark when she overcame her vulnerability, asked for help, and worked as a team with Yitzchak in this challenge. Thus, while Rivkah was praying to Hashem and relied on the incredible yichus of Yitzchak, he was praying on the merit of the wonderful midot she possessed and the continued growth she would make. Viewed from this perspective, it was Yitzchak’s faith in Rivkah, and the confidence this trust instilled in her, that accounted for the success of his prayers. Indeed, they worked as a team, and the “whole” of their relationship was far greater than the sum of their “individual” parts.
Given these insights, we come to understand the flaws in our cultural obsession with “independence” and the import our Torah places on mutuality and reciprocity in all relationships. The lives of the Avot and Imahot bear testimony to the truth that working as a team by enlisting and learning from one another’s strengths is the most important ingredient in success. It was team work, humility and the “co-dependence,” which has become a dirty word in our host culture, that resulted in the growth of our Imahot and Avot. The strength we will gain from these deeper and enhanced connections will remove the barriers to the personal greatness within us, and through this process we will know with certainty that the greatest obstacles in our journeys toward greatness are the fences we build to block the way.
By Renee Nussbaum, PhD, PsyA
Renee Nussbaum is a practicing psychoanalyst with training in Imago and EFT. She also facilitates a chavruta in Cyberspace on the weekly parsha, edited by Debbie Friedman. She can be reached at: [email protected].
