Our story takes us back to Isaac, the son of Abraham, and a rather awkward encounter with Abimelech, king of the Philistines. Abimelech, you see, was feeling a little… guilty? Anxious? Perhaps a little of both. So, he gathers his posse, including his kingdom's administrator, and heads over to Isaac's place, seeking to mend fences.

"We have convinced ourselves," Abimelech says, "that the Shekinah is with thee." The Shekinah, that divine presence, the palpable sense of God's nearness. They felt it with Isaac. And because of that, they wanted to renew the covenant that Abraham had made with them, a promise of peace, a guarantee that Isaac wouldn't harm them, "as we also did not touch thee."

Isaac agrees, thankfully.

But here's where it gets interesting. Notice that little phrase: "as we also did not touch thee." It's dripping with a certain… self-congratulatory tone, isn't it? Like they're expecting a medal for simply not being horrible.

Ginzberg, in his Legends of the Jews, points out that this little statement is incredibly telling about the Philistines' character. They take credit for not harming Isaac. Think about that for a moment.

It reveals a hidden desire, a suppressed urge to inflict pain. As Proverbs 21:10 says, "the soul of the wicked desireth evil."

It's as if they're saying, "Look how good we are! We could have been awful, but we chose not to be!" The implication, of course, is that they wanted to cause harm. They're proud of their restraint. It reminds us that sometimes, the most revealing things are what people choose to boast about. What do they think is virtuous? What do they expect praise for?

What does this tell us? Perhaps that true righteousness isn't just about not doing bad things, but about actively wanting good things for others. It's not enough to simply refrain from causing harm; we should strive to create good, to build bridges, to uplift those around us. Because, as this little story reminds us, sometimes the absence of evil isn't the same as the presence of good. And sometimes, the things we're most proud of not doing reveal more about ourselves than we'd like to admit.