According to Ginzberg's retelling in Legends of the Jews, the story starts with a prayer. Abraham had prayed for Abimelech, the king of the Philistines, and when Abimelech recovered, the angels took notice. They cried out to God, pointing out that Sarah, Abraham’s wife, had been barren for years, just like Abimelech’s wife. Now that Abraham's prayer had been answered for another, wasn't it time for Sarah to be remembered too?
This wasn’t just any day, mind you. It was Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, a time when, as we find in tradition, destinies are decided in heaven. The angels' plea, spoken on this auspicious day, bore fruit quickly. Barely seven months later, on the first day of Passover, Isaac was born.
Can you imagine the joy? It wasn't just in Abraham's house. The whole world rejoiced! As the story goes, God remembered all barren women along with Sarah, and they all conceived. The blind regained their sight, the lame walked, the mute spoke, and the mentally ill were restored. It was a time of miracles, echoing the messianic age.
And there's more! On the day of Isaac's birth, the sun shone with unparalleled splendor, a brilliance not seen since the fall of man, and only to be matched again in the world to come. Talk about a celestial celebration!
But, of course, not everyone was convinced. People whispered, "Can a man of a hundred years really father a child?" So, to silence the doubters, God commanded the angel in charge of embryos to fashion Isaac precisely in Abraham's image. The resemblance was undeniable. "Abraham begot Isaac!" people exclaimed, seeing was believing.
Why did Abraham and Sarah have to wait so long? Why them? There was a reason for their advanced age. Abraham needed to bear the sign of the covenant – circumcision – on his body before he could father the child who was destined to be the father of Israel. And because Isaac was the first child born after Abraham was circumcised, the circumcision was celebrated with great pomp.
Shem, Eber, Abimelech (with his whole retinue), even Terah (Abraham's father) and Nahor came to celebrate. Abraham threw a huge party, not just for the men, but for the wives of the dignitaries too. He even invited them to bring their babies, and here’s where things get even more miraculous. Sarah, the elderly Sarah, had enough milk to nurse all the babies!
Now, according to Midrash Rabbah, the effects of this weren't just physical. Those whose mothers were pious when they allowed Sarah to nurse them grew up to become proselytes, converts to Judaism. Those whose mothers were merely testing Sarah grew up to be powerful rulers, but ultimately lost their dominion because they refused to accept the Torah at Mount Sinai. The descendants of those infants, the story goes, became all the pious heathens and converts to come.
Even Og, king of Bashan, was there. You know, the giant. He couldn't resist teasing Abraham, calling him a "sterile mule" who would never have offspring. Og sneered at the baby Isaac, saying he could crush him with a finger. But God rebuked Og, declaring that he would live to see millions of Abraham's descendants, and eventually fall into their hands.
So, what does this all mean? The birth of Isaac is more than just a personal story. It's a story about faith, about promises kept, and about the ripple effects of answered prayers. It’s a reminder that even in the face of seemingly impossible odds, hope can blossom, and that even the smallest child can change the course of history. And maybe, just maybe, it's a reminder that sometimes, a little bit of divine intervention is exactly what the world needs.