Parashat Toldot: Who are you to play G-d?


The parasha this week, Toldot, begins with the story of Yitzchak in old age.  Yitzchak, sensing his time left on earth was short, called his first born Esav to give him a blessing before he dies.  The rabbis ask why Yitzchak thought his days on earth were almost over.  What made Yitzchak sense he would die soon?  In Breishit Rabbah (LXV:12), R. Yehoshua ben Karchah teaches that “When a man comes to his parents’ age [when they died], for five years before and five years after he must fear death.”  Therefore, according R. Yehoshua b. Karcha, the reason Yitzchak called his son in for a blessing was because he was within 5 years of the age at which his mother Sarah died.  Sarah died at age 127, so when Yitzchak turned 122 he called Esav in for a blessing, just in case.   


The midrash then continues on a bit of a tangent and teaches that there are seven things concealed from man (each one is supported by a verse from the Tanach which I have not quoted here, but I have put notes where necessary to elucidate the meaning that comes from reading it in context):


  1. the day of death
  2. the day of comfort [i.e; when the Mashiach (Messiah) will arrive]
  3. the absolute truth of judgment [i.e., no matter how hard a judge tries to give a fair judgment, there may always be facts that are hidden from him]
  4. through what he will profit
  5. what is in his neighbor's heart
  6. what a [pregnant] woman is bearing [the nature of the child to whom she will give birth]
  7. when the wicked State [Rome] will fall

Now if you are like me, you might be thinking as you read #7 “whaaaaaat?” But of course, the rabbis lived under Roman rule, and the fall of Rome was a very central event in their hopes and dreams.


Looking at these seven items (other than the one about Rome), I feel compelled to figure out what they all have in common.  One thing they seem to share is that these are things that all human beings (not just Jews) wonder about.  It’s part of human nature to be curious about them.  To this very day, doctors cannot ever tell us with certainty when a person will pass away, even if they are on their deathbed.  And it’s likely doctors will never be able to predict it.  Sometimes a doctor will expect a patient to be alive for only a few hours and it turns out to be days or even longer.  To this very day, we still wonder about the future of humanity.  We have no way of knowing if--or when--there will be world peace or any kind of reduction in human suffering.


In our own times we still wonder about various court cases.  We never know for sure if a certain individual has committed a crime, and juries deliberate for hours on evidence presented to them, knowing full well that they can never know for sure what happened.  We also wonder what path will lead us to success in life, what our friends and neighbors are really thinking, and what inborn traits the children we bear will have.


We could all probably add to this list--it occurs to me that when a woman is pregnant a doctor can never predict what day she will actually go into labor and what day the child will be be born.  It is also human nature to wonder about the creation of the world, whether there is an afterlife and if so, what it will be like, and even something as mundane as what the weather will be on any given day--something that still seems to escape even the most talented meteorologists.


What does all of this “not knowing” teach us, and why does the midrash take the time to enumerate these items?  I believe it is to remind us that there are things that only G-d knows, that we as humans will never be able to know.  It is to cut the incredible hubris and arrogance that we are guilty of experiencing from time to time.  Doctors who believe they can or should play G-d, judges who believe they hold a monopoly on justice, religious leaders who believe they have the right to define truth in matters that no person can ever truly know.

The end of Yitzchak’s life led R. Yehoshua b. Karcha to reflect on life and death, and even to teach that we should fear death when we reach the age that our parents were when they died.  While walking around anxious about death for 10 years isn’t psychologically healthy, it is the case that we can become way to complacent with the idea that we will live forever.  Too often we take for granted our waking up each morning and our being alive at the end of each day, our health, or having our basic needs met.  This midrash reminds us that we never truly know what the future holds for us, or even the nature of the present.  Many things (or perhaps only seven) are concealed from humankind, never to be fully known.   May we all be reminded to live a little more humbly, a little more like Yitzchak, who thought to himself “today could be my last day.”  If today were your last day, what would you do with your time?

Comments