In our Parasha, Parashat Toldot, the Torah presents us with an ancient yet strikingly familiar dynamic: the cycle of jealousy, exclusion, and attempts to target the existence and livelihood of the Jew.
“Now all the wells that his father’s servants had dug in the days of Abraham his father, the Philistines stopped up and filled with earth… And Abimelech said to Isaac, ‘Go away from us, for you have become far too powerful for us.”
Isaac creates life, develops infrastructure, and brings blessing and sustenance to his surroundings. And how does the surrounding environment react? With envy. The Philistines do not make use of the pure water Isaac brought to the desert—they prefer to stop up the wells instead. Rashi explains their reasoning: “It is a detriment to us, lest they be used to invade us.” Driven by blind hatred, they are willing to harm themselves as long as the Jew does not benefit. When stopping up the wells proves insufficient, expulsion and boycotts follow: “Go away from us.”
This ancient stopping of wells finds a powerful, painful echo in our very own days. Rising antisemitism across the globe, and particularly in the United States, no longer hides behind polite language.
Just recently, we witnessed a boycott demonstration in Philadelphia led by radical activists targeting Jewish-owned restaurants and businesses. Demonstrators called for boycotting these establishments simply because of their Jewish identity and connection to Israel, chanting slogans that these businesses “must disappear from our city.”
When people attempt to harm a person’s livelihood, block their business, and single out their place of commerce solely because they are Jewish—these are not “political struggles.” This is a modern-day stopping up of wells. It is that same ancient Philistine spirit attempting to fill the springs of action and blessing that the Jewish community brings wherever it resides with dirt.
Yet the deepest lesson of the Parasha lies not in the behavior of the Philistines, but in Isaac’s response.
When Isaac encounters hatred, boycotts, and the blockage of his resources, he does not break, he does not sink into bitterness, and he does not retreat from his identity. The Torah tells us:
“And Isaac dug again the wells of water… and he called them by the same names that his father had called them.”
The Jewish answer to the ill wind and the stopping up of wells is to dig again. We add light, we add life, and we continue to build and deepen our roots.
This is precisely what happened in Philadelphia: the response of the Jewish community and the broader public to the boycott attempt was inspiring. Instead of the boycott succeeding, thousands of people flocked to these businesses, standing in long lines around the block and turning the “boycott” into an unprecedented “buycott.” The wells were not stopped up—they poured forth living waters with double the strength.
Isaac names the first wells by names that reflect the struggle: Esek (Contention) and Sitnah (Hostility). But he does not stop there:
“And he moved from there and dug another well, and they did not quarrel over it; so he called its name Rehovoth, saying, ‘For now the Lord has made room for us, and we shall be fruitful in the land.'” (Genesis 26:22)
Ultimately, even Abimelech and Phicol, the commander of his army, realize they cannot prevail over Isaac, and they come to make a covenant with him: “We have clearly seen that the Lord has been with you.”
The message of the Parasha for us today is sharp and clear: in the face of winds of hatred and antisemitism in the world, our role is neither to bow down nor to hide. We must continue to dig wells of Torah, of lovingkindness, of proud identity, and of mutual support. When we stand united and proud of our heritage, the stopping of wells becomes an expansion of boundaries, and Sitnah is transformed into Rehovoth.
Shabbat Shalom!
Rabbi Refael Cohen