Parashat Toledot
Jacob and Esau are born arguing. They are described as very different characters. In this parasha, we have the famous story of Esau selling his birthright and Isaac being deceived by his other son Jacob (with a little help from mother Rebecca) to receive his blessing.
Toledot
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This parsha is in a real sense where the history of the Jewish people – the eternal struggle between Jacob and Esau – begins. Our protaganists struggle in their mother’s womb, haggle over their birthright, and compete for their father’s favour. Their falling-out will ultimately drive Jacob away from his family into exile, where he will marry and raise a large family whose names and roles continue to define Jews even until today. In the week that Limmud launches a new partnership with Sugia to discuss issues around Avodah – slavery, service and work – it seemed appropriate to look for a minute at each of these conflicts between the two brothers and see how they returned again and again to these themes.
The parsha begins with Rebecca, troubled by the pain of being pregnant with twins, seeking advice and being told that “Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples shall be separated from you; and the one people shall be stronger than the other people; and the elder shall serve the younger”. When she goes into labour, Esau is born first, with Jacob clinging to his heel (akev). Even before the children draw breath we have no less than three signifiers of their future – an unresolved struggle in utero, a prophecy that the conflict will be resolved in an unexpected way, and then a foreshadowing of on-going struggle. It’s worth thinking for a moment about identity and fate, and how roles are assigned– if the prophecy is that the elder will serve the younger, how is that impacted when the two trade those roles, or pretend to be each other? In striving so relentlessly for the role of the elder brother, was Jacob fulfilling this prophecy or undermining it? Did his short-term victory foretell the lengthy subordinate role of his descendants – the Bnei Yisrael and ultimately all of us?
In our second encounter, Esau sells his “birthright” (bechora) to Jacob for some soup – a seemingly unequal exchange, but in which direction? It’s not clear what this actually entailed – Esau agrees to the deal by saying “What use it is to me?”, and the need for the later deception over Isaac’s blessings seems to show that it wasn’t any sort of formal supplanting. The Rabbis of the Gemara suggest that this related to the right to sacrifice to God – a different kind of avodah to the service in their childhood prophecy – but it doesn’t seem that Jacob ever took advantage of this, as we don’t read of him offering any sacrifices until next week’s parsha, when he has fled his family and is leaving Cana’an for what could have been the last time.
Finally, we have the most famous story of the three – and one of the most well-known stories in the Bible. Jacob disguises himself as Esau and is blessed by his father that he will be “lord over your brother, and your mother's sons will bow to you”. But how are we to understand this? If any of our children were to do this with a present or compliment that belonged to another; we’d make them give it to the correct child straight away! In Halacha many mitzvot – like sukkah, for example – are not considered fulfilled if they are accomplished with a stolen item. How significant is a blessing when it’s given to the wrong child, and immediately regretted by the parent? What does seem significant, although it’s less well known, is the blessing that Isaac then gives to Esau. Even if Isaac couldn’t withdraw what had already been accomplished, he could undercut the lasting importance of the blessing by superseding it – “ and you shall serve your brother; and it shall come to pass that you will break loose, and shake his yoke from off your neck”.
Looking back at all this with the hindsight of three thousand years of history, it’s hard to work out who got the better deal. Even within their lifetimes Esau saw his blessing fulfilled as Jacob bowed seven times to him when he returned to Cana’an; and although the nations that came from the two siblings – Israel and Edom – warred back and forth through biblical history, the Rabbis of the Talmud came over time to see Esau and Edom as being embodied in Rome, Christianity and Western civilisation. In a sense we as Jews today are still clinging to the heel of this civilisation – no longer trying to supplant it, but happy to be borne along with its journey.
Avodah then can mean many different things – personal power, divine service, historical and political dominance. Which of these do we really need? Which are within our power to obtain? And which of them might be lost by the very act of striving for them? This week’s parsha sees Jacob strive for superiority time and again, but ends with his fleeing – alone and powerless – from his brother’s wrath. Next week we’ll see him enter into two more unequal relationships of avodah – with God and Laban – and see what, if anything, he learns.
