by Rabbi Avi Billet
The character Yishmael in the Torah is quite fascinating. Any honest opinion of Yishmael may be partially sympathetic to him, but will more than likely cast him as an unfavorable character until he undergoes his personal teshuvah (repentance) towards the end of his life, as indicated by the term "gviah" which describes his death (Midrash, Rashi, etc).
In truth, most of the negativity ascribed to Yishmael is not even evident in the Torah. As I wrote in this space last week, even whatever caused Sarah to have him banished from the home may have had nothing to do with bad behavior. In the best case scenarios, he was either being very nice to Yitzchak or he was talking about his rights as Avraham's first born (which is completely legitimate!), either of which made Sarah uncomfortable.
Beyond that, he seems to be more of a victim! He is banished in utero and as a teenager, the latter time with a minimal amount of bread and water, and he reappears at Avraham's funeral. The rabbis indicate that he died shortly after Eisav married his daughter, perhaps because Eisav married his daughter.
The Rabbis even depict him as one of the lads accompanying Avraham to the Akeidah (binding) of Yitzchak!
And of course, Avraham's love for Yishmael is no secret. When God tells him he'll have a son with Sarah, he says "Let Yishmael live before You." (17:18) When God tells Avraham to take his son… the one he loves… Yitzchak… to the mountain, Rashi points out Avraham's responses: "I have two sons, I love them both, o – You mean Yitzchak…"
Would Avraham have such feelings for a son who is terrible? Compare him to Yitzchak and Rivka, who are tremendously hurt by Eisav's choice of wives (26:35)
At the end of Yishmael's life, when his death is recorded using similar language to Avraham's death, we are told of his "descendants/generations." They are introduced using a familiar term, "V'Eileh Toldot Yishmael…" These are the generations of Yishmael.
Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch points out that of all the times this phrase appears in the Bible, the word Toldot is spelled four different ways: with either 6, 5 or 4 letters. Yishmael's case is the only time it appears with 4 letters.
In Hebrew, the 6 letter version is called "Malei" (full or complete) because it has two vovs as vowels. The 5 letter versions either has a vov for the first "o" vowel, or a vov for the second "o" vowel, while the other "o" vowel in the word is indicated by a dot after the consonant preceding it. The 4 letter version has no vovs as vowels.
The two times it appears "Malei" are in 2:4 – the Toldot of the heavens and the earth, and in Ruth 4:18 – these are the generations of Peretz leading to David. The first vov is missing when describing the generations of Eisav (36:1,9) and Yaakov (37:2). The first vov is present, while the second vov is not for Adam 5:1, Noach 6:9, 10:1, Shem 11:10, Terach 11:27, Yitzchak 25:19, Aharon and Moshe – Bamidbar 3:1. For Yishmael – no vovs! Causing Hirsch to say, "All this says is 'Explain me!'"
The missing first vov (of the shoresh/root word) indicates an incompleteness in the children of that person. Eisav had many descendants, but they had no internal greatness, neither spiritually or ethically. And in the context in which the word appears for Yaakov, it is as part of the introduction to the fighting between his sons, which culminated with their selling their brother to Egypt.
Missing the second vov (the vov that makes the word plural) hints to there not really being "generations" because the person only had one or two sons that carried his traditions.
The heavens and earth are complete in quality and quantity, on the other hand, because they were made through a statement of God.
The generations of Peretz is considered complete because of the responsibility it will bear in heralding the redemption of Israel, based on its worthiness.
Yishmael is the only one spelled without vovs because he did not have as many descendants as, for example, Eisav had (compare Yishmael's 3 verses to chapter 36!). And his sons were also not as complete in their character as the descendants of Yitzchak eventually proved to be.
In essence, this one word indicates that Yishmael's family – 12 princes and all – were nothing to write home about. He had the 12 children that were promised, but how he raised them did not reflect well on him.
At the same time, when we examine Yishmael himself, we see a man who is loved by his father, who is viewed as a person who went through many personal struggles to unquestionably conclude his life as a righteous man.
Every person who becomes a parent has an important job in raising children. Hopefully we do our best, have our influence, and it can be listened to for as long as we are alive and have the ability to communicate. And of course, thereafter.
But there comes a time when the children leave and they are, to a certain degree, on their own. When that happens, the focus must once again revert to each of us as an individual.
There's a joke about three religious leaders arguing over when life begins. One says, "At conception." Another says, "At birth." And the rabbi says, "Life begins when the kids move out and the dog dies."
This is not to suggest that when the kids move out we cut the strings. But we must also be able to focus on our own growth – spiritually, religiously, mentally and healthfully – so we can live out our days after "life begins" with the ever present goal of concluding life unquestionably as a righteous person, following Yishmael's example.
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