Isaac is one of the least appreciated of the biblical Patriarchs. While his father, Abraham, was a public leader, the founder of ethical monotheism, and his son, Jacob, established the Jewish People and wrestled with God, Isaac is remembered mostly for being the sacrifice during the Akedah, the binding on Mount Moriah.
In today's Torah portion, we meet that same Isaac -- unimpressive, simply going along and repeating what his more prominent father had innovated in the past.
The Torah tells us that Isaac's martial neighbors were sniping at the Jewish community: "The Philistines stopped up all the wells which his father's servants had dug in the days of his father, Abraham, filling them with earth." Isaac's response reflects persistence, if not sparkle. "Isaac dug anew the wells which had been dug in the days of his father, Abraham ... and he gave them the same names that his father had given them. "Not very impressive, is it? The most Isaac can muster is simply to re-dig the same old wells. He can't even think up new names, relying on his father's creativity rather than his own.
As the great medieval commentator, Rabbi and philosopher, Ramban (13th Century Spain and Israel), remarked, "There would seem to be no benefit nor any great honor to Isaac in that he and his father did the identical thing!"
Indeed, why should the Torah -- normally so concise and laconic -- waste words simply to inform us that Isaac was unoriginal, that he simply went through life doing what his father had pioneered before him? A hint may be detected in the midrash, Beresheet Rabbah. "How many wells did our father Isaac dig in Beersheva?" The Rabbis said, 'Five, which corresponds to the five books of the Torah.' "
In other words, the act of re-digging those same wells was, in some way, an act of loyalty to the values and practices of Judaism. By stubbornly holding to his parents' tradition, Isaac was assuring that Judaism would thrive beyond his own lifetime. No mere act of repetition, Isaac was demonstrating his faithfulness to Jewish living and to the God of the Jews.
In a similar reading, Hizkuni (13th Century France) remarked that giving the wells the same names was a meritorious act, "for these names demonstrate and prove that the wells entered his possession from the legacy of his father." These wells were significant to Isaac because they were part of the heritage left to him by Abraham. Ours is a culture that places great value on innovation.
Creativity, openness and a willingness to change are esteemed as the approach most likely to produce useful discoveries and helpful insight. Certainly, the creativity of modern men and women have produced great works. But we also suffer from a certainly rootlessness and restlessness. None feel settled in a world where everything is up for grabs, where every custom or value is subject to question, objection and analysis.
Isaac's example points to the need to balance creativity with loyalty, innovation with fidelity. Change is good, but it is not God. If everything changes, then human living and human relating become impossible. Isaac's contribution was to cling to the sublime and important from his own inheritance.
Judaism and the values it cherishes depends on precisely that kind of loyalty. In a society where change is so rife that it borders on the chaotic, Judaism provides a shelter in the storm. Loyalty to the practices of our sacred tradition clears a path which others have successfully trod before, shines a light that has illumined countless lives through the good times and the bad. Judaism teaches us, in the words of Rabbi Louis Finkelstein, "to change as little as possible, as late as possible" in order to nurture our ancient brit with God and our people's sacred way.
Shabbat Shalom.