Rabbi's Sermons

In ancient Roman mythology, there was a peculiar god named Janus. He was depicted as having two faces - one looking forward and the other looking back. Janus represented doorways, transitions, and the duality present in many aspects of life. In a sense, we all contain a measure of Janus within us. We often find ourselves torn between looking ahead to spiritual growth and allowing ourselves to be pulled back by worldly distractions. The struggle of competing priorities and conflicting desires is a universal human experience.

ַיִּתְרֹצְצ֤וּ הַבָּנִים֙ בְּקִרְבָּ֔הּ וַתֹּ֣אמֶר אִם־כֵּ֔ן לָ֥מָּה זֶּ֖ה אָנֹ֑כִי וַתֵּ֖לֶךְ לִדְרֹ֥שׁ אֶת

And the children struggled together within her, and she said, 'If it be so, why am I thus?' And she went to inquire of G-d."

1) What was Rikva’s main concern that caused her to go find an answer?

2)   How does she go about finding an answer?

3)   How does the answer she is given alleviate that concern?

The Ramban writes that Rivka’s concern was simple.  She felt so much physical discomfort during her pregnancy, she believed it to be unusual. So she initially asked other women who had also carried children, seeking to know:  Is this normal?  They told her no.  And so, she said, “Lama Zeh Anochi?  Why I am unique and different?  What is happening to me?

And so, says the Ramban, she went to be doresh Hashem, meaning, she went to daven.

And in response, she received a prophecy:  Hashem told her, Rivka, don’t worry.  The reason you are feeling so much tumult is because there are two babies inside of you.  And this physical discomfort is normal for someone carrying twins.

Yes, she was still concerned about what would happen once they were born, but knowing that she was experiencing something normal helped her relax.

Seforno writes that she was actually worried for her safety and the safety of the babies.  All of the movement made her terrified.  So, when she was told not just that they were two, but that they would be two nations who would fight with each other constantly, she was actually relieved.

Why?  Because she was concerned that perhaps one of the babies wouldn’t make it.  When she’s told they will BOTH make it, but yes, there will be fighting between them and that’s what’s happening inside of you, she was relieved.

Rashi, though, offers us a midrashic explanation for the whole story which changes our perspective: 

Says Rashi, there wasn’t simply a lot of movement inside Rivka’ stomach.  Rather, when she would pass the yeshiva of Shem V’Ever she would feel tremendous movement.  And then, when she would pass a house of Avoda Zara, idolatry, she would feel tremendous movement as well. That single child, it seemed, tried to move towards Jewish houses of learning when it was near yeshivot, and towards idolatrous learning sites.

And this was very confusing to her.  Was she carrying a single child whose essence was a confused amalgam of good and evil, Torah and tumah, pulled equally in diametrically opposed directions?

She said, I don’t understand.  What kind of child is this going to be. How can a child simultaneously desire two opposite philosophies of life. And, more concerning, what will be his spiritual legacy?

So, Rashi darshons that she went to see Shem, the son of Noach, who the Medrash says was the Rosh Yeshiva of a Yeshiva called Yeshivas Shem V’Ever. 

And when she arrives, he tells her, “Rivka, don’t worry.  This isn’t a single schizophrenic child. It’s two children.  One will love Avoda Zara.  The other will love monotheisim and continue in the ways of Avraham & Yitzchak.”

But the question still remains: How was this reassuring?

If she was worried about the physical safety of her children that she was relieved when she found out it was two.  But if she was worried about the spiritual legacy, why does the answer she receives make her calm?

Rabbi Menachem Ben Zion Sacks was the founder of Ida Crown Hebrew Academy in Chicago, amongst his other significant communal work. He wrote a Sefer called Menachem Tzion in which he offers a powerful answer to this question:

What was Rivka’s core  worry?  She thought she was carrying one child who would have an interest both in Avoda Zara AND Avodas Hashem.  A child who would have trouble understanding who he was and what he believed in. A child would lack conviction and stable connection.

And so, she said, Im Kein Lama Ze Anochi.  If this is the case, how will he relate to the word “anochi.” Rather than interpreting the word literally as I, he reads it as the first phrase of the Aseres HaDibros:  Anochi Hashem Elokecha.

If this child doesn’t understand who he is and believe in something connected to Judaism, then how will he be the next in line in our family, to carry on the legacy of Avraham & Yitzchak!?

And so, she receives an answer from the Almighty: Don’t worry Rivka. This isn’t a single child who can’t figure out who he wants to be.  You have two children inside of you, and each one knows very well who he wants to be!

And with this answer, she is comforted.  Why is she comforted? Says Lord Rabbi Sacks, because she felt it would be better to have two children who know who know what they want to be, who have conviction and belief in their identity – even if one of them would choose not to live as she had hoped - than to have one child who has no idea what he wants, a child who lacks a sense of grounding and a sense of identity. That child would be pulled hither and yonder, and find it challenging to accomplish in their lifetime.

The answer she received provided some reassurance - she was carrying two separate nations in her womb, not one confused child. The opposing forces arose from two distinct souls, not a single divided essence.

It is written in Chumash that Shem answered that she is carrying twins and this is the reason for her pains. How does this resolve Rivka’s confusion?

Zera Shimshon gives a fascinating explanation of Shem’s answer.

Shem assured Rivka that she could keep praying in her usual way, without needing to condition her prayers on having only righteous children. He explained that her discomfort was not a result of the “verdict of Chava,” which is to say, physical discomfort in childbirth, but because she was carrying twins with contrasting destinies: Yaakov, the tzaddik, and Eisav, the rasha. Their struggle within her womb was central to Yaakov’s efforts to extract the hidden kedusha from Eisav, which was deeply embedded in him—a significant process that would impact future generations. This extraction would lead to righteous figures among Eisav’s descendants, such as Antoninus, Kitiya bar Shalom, and the Tannaim Shmaya, Avtalyon and Rebbi Meir. Shem emphasized that Rivka’s role in birthing Eisav was vital, as only through her and Yaakov’s virtue could the kedusha in Eisav be unlocked and redeemed. This situation was distinct from that of Dovid and Avraham, who would rather remain childless than father wholly wicked offspring. In Rivka’s case, bearing Eisav was essential for the greater good that his lineage would, eventually, bring forth.

Through this dvar Torah of the Zera Shimshon, we gain an invaluable perspective on how to interpret and navigate difficult and distressing situations in life. Zera Shimshon insights teach us that these challenges are not necessarily reflections of our personal failings and grounds for self-condemnation. Instead—much like the trials Rivka encountered—these situations may actually be opportunities assigned specifically for us, given to us because we, alone, possess the necessary abilities to succeed in them. They are divinely orchestrated moments where we are entrusted with a critical mission—to unlock and liberate the kedusha that is deeply woven into the fabric of these experiences. This perspective encourages us to look beyond the surface level of our struggles, recognizing the potential for spiritual growth and uncover hidden blessings. In this light, every challenging moment becomes a chance for us to act—to use our unique strengths and insights, just as Rivka did, to reveal and foster the sacredness that lies dormant within these trials.

Further, we all contain multitudes and contradictions within us. Part of us is pulled toward spiritual growth, Torah study and mitzvot. Another side is drawn to more base desires and lesser pursuits – TikTok videos, YouTube shorts, poor remakes of old movies. We often find ourselves wavering at the crossroads between these inclinations, like Rivka's unborn sons struggling within her. Rabbi Soloveitchik described this inner conflict as a clash between the "majestic man" pursuing conquest in the material world around us – spending time on our jobs, our houses, our possessions - and the "covenantal man" striving to serve G-d (Soloveitchik 1965, 5). Acknowledging these warring instincts within ourselves allows us to consciously harmonize them in service of a higher calling.

The lesson from Rivka is to inquire of the Almighty when we feel lost. Through prayer, study and introspection, we can gain the clarity to distinguish between our noble and our baser drives. Recognizing them as two separate impulses, rather than a singular confused essence, empowers us to make deliberate choices. We can consciously embrace the pull toward goodness and holiness while rejecting the tug of temptations.

The prophet Eliyahu issued a similar challenge to the people of his generation who vacillated between the service of יְהֹוָֽה and the Baal idol:

עַד־מָתַ֞י אַתֶּ֣ם פֹּסְחִים֮ עַל־שְׁתֵּ֣י הַסְּעִפִּים֒ אִם־יְיְְְְ הָאֱלֹקִים֙ לְכ֣וּ אַחֲרָ֔יו וְאִם־הַבַּ֖עַל לְכ֣וּ אַחֲרָ֑יו

"How long will you waver between two opinions? If G-d is God, follow Him; but if Baal, follow him." We have the same challenge – we can’t dance at two weddings. We need to commit.

Eliyahu understood that in order to guide the people, he first needed them to be clear about their beliefs and convictions. As long as they remained ambivalent, it would be impossible to lead them back to the proper path. Clarity must precede transformation. May all of us find clarify in our spiritual goals and work to get them accomplished.