Words for Shabbat - A community blog for this week's parashah

Toldot

When our ancestors are complex, we too can accept complexity.

 

By Dr. Aaron (Willy) Siegel
 
 

Esau and Jacob (1640) Matthias Stom, Hermitage

The Torah portion of Toldot presents a complex reality that does not correspond with the norms we would expect. How is it that Jacob deceitfully buys the birthright from Esau and then receives his father's blessing through trickery? And all this with the help of our mother Rebecca. And in general, why is the hunter considered negative and the tent dweller considered righteous?

Reading this passage from the Netherlands, while observing Israel from afar, raises questions about the way we see ourselves and others. I know it is easier to see things from the outside, but perhaps this perspective can shed some light on the matter. The Sages tend to see the world in black and white: Esau is evil and Jacob is good. But the biblical text itself is much more complex. 

 

 

 

Esau deeply respects his father. "Hunting in his mouth" (25:28) does not necessarily mean deceit, but rather that he brought him game to make him happy (the plain meaning of Rashi, as opposed to the interpretation that explains it as deceit). And in the portion of Vayishlach, after all of Jacob's fears, Esau "ran to meet him, embraced him, fell on his neck, kissed him, and they wept" (33:4). He was a man of action with a deep connection to nature. But he was also impulsive: "And Esau despised the birthright" (25:34) – he disregarded its spiritual significance. And when he discovered the deception: "And he cried out with a great and bitter cry" (27:34) – true and genuine pain.

 

 

Jacob – A spiritual scholar, devoted to love, stubborn and unyielding. He understands the importance of the birthright. But he also takes advantage of a moment of weakness: he buys the birthright when "Esau was weary" (25:29-34). He lies to his blind father: "I am Esau your firstborn" (27:19), and even uses the name of God to lie: 'For the Lord your God has made me appear before you" (27:20). He acts through manipulation – through his mother, through Laban, always indirectly.

 

 

Why is this important today??

Israeli society tends to see things in black and white. Each camp portrays the other in a negative light. Ultra-Orthodox Jews see secular Jews as a threat to Judaism, and secular Jews see the ultra-Orthodox as religious coercion. The right wing sees the left wing as traitors, and the left wing sees the right wing as fascists. Those who advocate separation of powers see others as a danger to democracy, and those who prefer majority rule see others as a detached elite. Some see military service as a supreme value, while others see Torah study as the true contribution. Jewish and Arab citizens of Israel see each other as a threat rather than a partnership.

Each side exaggerates the negative behaviors of the other and ignores the good in them. These tensions create internal strife within our society.

But the story teaches us that reality is more complex. Esau himself, whom Jacob feared so much and was sure would want revenge, ultimately ran to embrace him. If our ancestors were not black and white, perhaps the "other" in our society is not black and white either.

 

 

The ultra-Orthodox Jew who does not serve in the army may contribute in other ways. The secular Jew who does not observe Shabbat may be very charitable. The right-winger who advocates sovereignty may truly care about security. The left-winger who advocates compromise may truly want peace. Everyone has their own values, as well as legitimate concerns.

 

 

And just as Jacob and Esau learned to embrace each other despite everything, perhaps we too can learn to see the complexity of the other. Not necessarily to agree, but to see that on the other side there are also people with good intentions, with genuine concerns, with a contribution to make to the nation.

 

 

And when we learn to accept complexity internally, perhaps we can also extend this outward—toward our neighbors. To understand that there, too, reality is not always black and white.

This story reminds us that the world is not black and white. That righteous people are not perfect, and wicked people are not one-dimensional. And that perhaps, if we stop for a moment to see only the bad in others and start looking for the good as well—even in those who think differently—we can move a little closer to inner peace.

 

 

Perhaps then we will become a more balanced society, one that knows how to embrace complexity.

Picture of ד"ר אהרן (Willy) סיגל

Dr. Aharon (Willy) Siegel

Dr. Aharon (Willy) Siegel was born in Amsterdam, immigrated to Israel, was educated there, and served in the Israeli army. In recent years, he worked for Israel Railways and was an active member of an Israeli synagogue. He now lives with his family in the Netherlands, where he misses Israel and reflects on the place of Israel and Judaism in the world.

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