Our most important responsibility is to secure the Jewish people’s future by educating the next generation.

The political situation in Israel after the elections is a little strange. 

Everyone’s stuck in limbo, neither here nor there. Neither side can put together a government, and both sides are wrestling with a very serious question: Who should we form a coalition with, and who should we leave out?  Who should be invited in, and who should be left out?

Of course, this reminds me of a story from the Talmud.

The Talmud (Horayos 13b) tells us about Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel, the nasi, or head of the Sanhedrin; Rabbi Natan, the head of the rabbinical court; and Rabbi Meir, who held the position of chacham, the leading sage. The nasi held the highest position, followed by the head of the court and then the sages. 

It was protocol at the time that in the study hall, everyone would stand when any of these rabbis entered. When Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel, Rabbi Meir or Rabbi Natan came in, everyone stood up.

Now, Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel felt it wasn’t right for Rabbi Meir and Rabbi Natan to receive exactly the same honor as the nasi. So one day he made a new rule: When the nasi comes in, everyone will stand. When the head of the court comes in, only the first two rows will stand. And when the chacham comes in, only those he passed will get up.

Critically, Rabbi Meir and Rabbi Natan weren’t in the study hall the day Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel introduced the new rule. 

The next day, Rabbi Meir and Rabbi Natan arrived as usual, and they noticed that something had changed: not everyone got up when they walked in! They asked what was going on and were told about his new rule.

They weren’t pleased with what was going on, so they put their heads together to come up with a plan. 

A “Coup” in the Study Hall

Rabbi Meir proposed a “coup.” 

The next day, when Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel came to the study hall, they would question him about Uktzin, a difficult tractate that they knew he wasn’t well versed in. 

Once he couldn’t answer, they would quote the verse in Psalm 106: “Mi yemalel gevuros Hashem, yashmia kol nifliosav, Who can tell of G-d’s mighty deeds, proclaim all His praise?” They understood this to mean that the nasi, the leader, had to know the entire Torah. 

Being that he didn’t, he would have to resign. Then they would both move up: Rabbi Meir would become head of the court, and Rabbi Natan would become nasi!

One of the scholars in the study hall, Rabbi Yaakov ben Karshi, overheard their plan. He was very concerned about how humiliating it would be for Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel if he couldn’t answer their questions on Uktzin. So he went around to the back of Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel’s upstairs room, sat down, and began reviewing Uktzin out loud. Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel realized that something must have happened in the study hall that he didn’t know about. He took the hint: he needed to learn Uktzin well. He listened carefully to Rabbi Yaakov ben Karshi, studying and reviewing the material himself.

The next day, when Rabbi Meir and Rabbi Natan asked to study a passage in Uktzin. “No problem!” Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel was happy to oblige! They studied Uktzin, and he was perfectly comfortable with the material! 

Not only did the plan fail, it backfired. Rabban Shimon had some stern words for his colleagues. “Had I not reviewed the tractate,” he told them, “you would have humiliated me!” This was an attempt to lower his prestige!

As a punishment, he expelled them from the study hall.

Outside and Inside

Rabbi Meir and Rabbi Natan left the study hall, but go home? Not a chance. They sat outside, listening to Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel’s lesson, and began to “disturb,” by tossing in notes with questions. At first, the scholars inside were able to answer them, but soon they were stumped. The questions were too good. And when they couldn’t answer, another note was tossed in. Rabbi Meir and Rabbi Natan had tossed in the answer.

This was too much. Something didn’t make sense here. A rabbi named Rabbi Yosi turned to the other scholars, including Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel, and asked, “The Torah is outside, and we’re inside?” Rabbi Meir and Rabbi Natan were world class Torah scholars. They were the teachers of the generation. If anyone belonged in the study hall, it was them. Yet they were outside, and the lesser scholars were in! This was entirely strange and unnatural!

Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel accepted the point and let them back in. But there would be a penalty nonetheless. From then on, their teachings would be quoted in the Talmud without their names. Rabbi Meir’s teachings would be introduced with “Others say,” and Rabbi Natan’s with “Some say.”

Later, Rabbi Meir and Rabbi Natan were told in a dream to go and make peace with Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel. Rabbi Natan went and did so. Rabbi Meir didn’t. He said dreams “don’t change anything one way or the other,” so there was no reason to act on one.

I think this story has a lot to teach us about who should be inside and who should be outside—and, most of all, about learning to live together.

Your Future Is Through Isaac

This week we read Parshas Vayeira. It tells us about the birth of Isaac, born when his father, Abraham, was a hundred and his mother, Sarah, was ninety. Right after telling us about Isaac’s birth, the Torah describes a conflict between Ishmael and Isaac.

The Torah tells us that Sarah saw Ishmael “playing” with Isaac. Because of what she saw, she demanded that Abraham send Hagar and Ishmael out of his home.

What was he actually doing? Rashi offers three explanations. Idolatry: Ishmael was worshipping idols. Sexual immorality: he was behaving in an immoral way. Bloodshed: he was shooting arrows at Isaac, pretending it was a game, when he actually meant to hurt him. 

Sarah was afraid that Ishmael was a bad influence on Isaac—and was even putting him in danger. Sarah demanded, “Send away this servant woman and her son.” 

Abraham was deeply upset by the request. It was very hard for Abraham to accept being told to send his son Ishmael away. He faced an agonizing dilemma. After all, they were both his children. G-d stepped in and told him to listen to Sarah. Why? Because “through Isaac, your line will continue.” Ishmael might be very important to you, but there is something more important:  The future of the Jewish people would come through Isaac.

I think there’s a very important message here for our situation today, too. There are always going to be important issues and arguments. But ultimately, they are all of secondary importance. 

There’s one thing that needs to be our primary goal, at the center of all our efforts: the survival of the Jewish people. We have to invest in our children’s Jewish education, in the values we pass on to them, and in how we raise the next generation. That matters more than anything else.

The Torah makes this very point a little earlier in our parsha. When G-d explains why He chose Abraham, He says, “Ki yidaitiv, For I have known him”—an expression of love—“l’maan asher yitzave es banav v’es beiso acharav, laasos tzedakah umishpat—so that he will instruct his children and his household after him to keep the way of G-d, doing what is right and just” (Bireishis 18:19).

The Rebbe returns to this point again and again. What made Abraham so special was that he didn’t stop at serving G-d himself. He made sure to pass that way of life on to his children and to the generations that would follow. That’s why G-d chose Abraham and held him so dear: he cared about making sure that faith, values, and G-d’s way of life would live on in the next generation.

This is the lesson of Abraham’s story: our real mission is to secure the future of the Jewish people.