The Torah column is supported by a generous donation from Eve Gordon-Ramek in memory of Kenneth Gordon.
Toldot
Genesis 25:19-28:9
The first several chapters of the Book of Genesis are famous, colorful and mythic in their universalistic scope. There are the stories of creation, Adam and Eve, the Garden of Eden, Cain and Abel, Noah and the flood and the Tower of Babel.
Then the book introduces a particular couple, Abraham and Sarah, and the narrative of the world’s first Jews begins to take shape. After the patriarch and matriarch die, the Torah zooms in on the lives and inner dynamics of the first Jewish families.
The Torah portion Toldot is a tale, in large measure, of sibling rivalry and parental mistakes. It focuses on the lives of Isaac and his children. In some ways, it is similar to the narrative of Cain and Abel, and even closer to the story of Isaac and Ishmael.
In all of these cases, someone is abused and/or deceived, and bad blood is established within a family structure. Yet the hope of ultimate reconciliation is always at hand. In Toldot, the younger twin Jacob deceives his aged and blind father Isaac, and effectively steals his older brother Esau’s birthright and inheritance
This is a terrible crime (and sin) in the Biblical period.
Some scholars and sages have argued that the blind patriarch Isaac was actually never deceived by Jacob. They contend that Isaac only pretended to be misled because, in his heart of hearts, he knew that Esau did not have the ethical character to carry on the burden of Abraham and the mantle of leadership.
That seems like an intellectual stretch to me, especially because it lets Jacob off the hook too easily when, in my view, the Torah is trying to teach us lessons about family dynamics and moral behavior. Regardless, many of us will see ourselves or our families in this portion — the good, the bad and the ugly.
The Toldot narrative raises a number of important questions that it leaves to future generations, including our own, to try to answer.
One question is, does the end ever justify the means? Since giving an entire birthright to someone just because he was the first-born son seems archaic, even immoral, to most of us today, can Jacob be excused to some extent for his behavior? Was he trying, in a questionable way, to simply right a wrong?
This is a hard question to answer, and people have been asking it in a variety of contexts for millennia. To my mind, Judaism doesn’t address it in a completely clear way.
On one hand, Jacob’s deceitfulness breaks one of the Ten Commandments: “You shall not steal, nor deal falsely, nor lie to one another.” (Leviticus 19:11) That is a grievous sin.
On the other hand, Jacob seems to confront and overturn an injustice, i.e., even as a twin son, he was not to be given any share of Isaac’s inheritance. It all was to go to Esau. In Judaism, fighting against injustice is an ancient principle and a prophetic command. With this understanding, Jacob was just being true to one of the tenets of his faith.
In the Torah portions that follow, Jacob does seem to receive punishment for his crime. He lives in fear, he wrestles with inner demons, he flees for his life from his vengeance-minded brother. This raises another question: What is the Torah trying to teach us — that God punishes the unrighteous, or that we bring hardship upon ourselves when we sin against others?
The idea of Divine reward and punishment is commonplace in the Torah (especially in the Book of Deuteronomy): If we observe the commandments, we will be rewarded; if we break them, we will be punished.
But most of us today reject that idea. We know that bad things happen to good people and that the wicked sometimes benefit from their immoral actions. It may be more probable that human beings create our own karma — or, unfortunately and sadly, that some people do get away with bad behavior.
For me, this Torah portion also raises a final question. The Jewish people are often referred to in our liturgy as “Beit Yaakov,” the “House of Jacob.” It is meant as an honor. But does Jacob, in light of his somewhat shady character, really seem like an appropriate figure for our people to be named for?
Jacob is a very complicated personality, and his character goes through a profound transformation in the course of this story. At the lowest point in his life, in the dead of night, Jacob struggles with a mysterious being. By daybreak, the being blesses him and changes the patriarch’s name from Jacob to Yisrael, “One who wrestles with God and with humans and prevails.” (Genesis 32:28)
Following this episode, Jacob reconciles with Esau.
The narrative of Jacob is a compelling tale of resilience, growth and ultimate triumph. To me, it does seem appropriate for the Jewish people to have Jacob as our namesake and role model, albeit an admittedly flawed and imperfect one. We are all flawed and imperfect. The message of the Torah is that, through the example of Jacob’s life and his personal and spiritual evolution, there is always the promise of hope.