Identfy With Your Child, But Not Too Closely: A Lesson In Parenting from Yitzchak Avinu

Parshas Toldos 5783

You should try out for the basketball team! You should explore your artistic side! you should learn more bekiyus!

Why? Maybe because I didn’t and wish I would have. Or maybe because I did and I see you as an extension of me. 

The Torah describes that a natural affinity that Yitzchak and Rivkah had towards each of their two sons; Rivkah being drawn to Yaakov and Yitzchak to Eisav. What was it about Eisav that captured Yitzchak’s attention? Rashi describes that Eisav would pose questions to his father that bespoke a deep concern for spiritual matters, noting specifically that Eisav would ask Yitzchak the appropriate manner of tithing items such as salt and straw.

Yet is Yitzchak’s interest was that his progeny care about serving Hashem, why this especial interest in Eisav? Yaakov is described as being “yosheiv ohalim—sitting in the Tents of Torah.” Why didn’t Yaakov’s behavior pique Yitzchak’s interest as much as Eisav’s?

Rav Gedalia Shorr offers an insightful approach. Chazal consider Yitzchak to be the paragon of the trait of gevurah, or inner fortitude. This is a quality expressed through denying oneself of one’s own visceral wants in the interest of fulfilling a greater value. Many expressions of this quality can be detected throughout Yitzchak’s life, but perhaps none greater than his willingness to be sacrificed by his father. Yitzchak was prepared to transcend his very will to live in the interest of abiding by Hashem’s request.   

Rav Shorr explains that Yitzchak was drawn to Eisav because he saw himself in this particular son. It is not so much that Eisav exhibited greater dedication to spiritual pursuits than his brother, but rather that he was someone who struggled with in those pursuits to overcome his other interests. Yitzchak was an “ish sadeh—a man of the field,” not one naturally drawn to the Bais Medrash as Yaakov was. When it came to dedicating his life to Hashem, Eisav was in turmoil. Yitzchak saw himself in that struggle and deeply identified with this particular son.

In a study performed in the Netherlands in 2013, parents who saw their children as an extension of themselves were at far greater risk of living vicariously through their children. Doing so is poses a major threat to one’s children. When I see myself in my child, they become a proxy for my own experiences. I push them to achieve that which I missed out on in my childhood and may still regret. Or I may pressure them to take the same path that I did in life without concerning myself with the nuances that separate their life from my own. Identifying with our children can be a powerful means of connecting with and caring for them, but it’s critical that we stop short of seeing their experiences as an actual extension of our own.

This idea sheds new light on the remarkable achievements of Yitzchak as a father to Eisav. Yitzchak sees Eisav’s struggles not unlike his own. He is drawn to Eisav as a result and is bent on helping him succeed. Yitzchak was no “ish sadeh,” no “man of the field,” but when he sees this quality in Eisav, his goal is not to suppress those instincts, only to guide them towards proper expression. When Yitzchak prepares himself to bestow the blessings upon Eisav, he requests that Eisav go out to hunt and bring back delicious food for Yitzchak to enjoy. Yitzchak sees himself in his son, but does not demand he take precisely the same path. He is own experience makes him more acutely concerned for his son, but he stops short of living vicariously through him.

How do we mimic Yitzchak? How do we see enough of ourselves in our children that we care deeply for them and leverage our own life experience to help them, without succumbing to the trap of viewing their lives as an extension of our own? By reminding ourselves that there is only one area in which we can become better through our interactions with our children: parenting. Their on-field achievements do not make us better athletes. Their masterpieces do not make us greater artists. Their middos do not make us tzaddikim. But guiding them in a manner that is most appropriate for them—rather than ourselves—does make us great parents, irrespective of the results. Heaping unfair pressures or expectations may indeed result in the results we’ve imagined, but those results are theirs alone, and we’re left with lousy grades on the parenting report card. 

Ultimately, Yitzchak’s attempts to guide Eisav are largely unsuccessful. Far more nefarious behavior lurks beneath the surface of inquiries regarding how to tithe salt and straw. But Yitzchak is not Eisav and Eisav is not Yitzchak. Eisav may take a wrong path, but Yitzchak comes out a remarkable parent. He identifies with his son, but only enough to love him and attempt to guide him in a manner most appropriate for son, not for father. Had Eisav turned out differently, Yitzchak would not receive any further accolades. But by parenting in the manner he did, Yitzchak does add “great father” to his already impressive resume.