Parshat Toldot5 min read

God Removed Five Years So Isaac Would Not See Esau

Lentils sat on the fire the day Abraham was buried. Esau did not ask what the pot meant. He opened his mouth and told Jacob to pour.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. Lentils on the Day of Burial
  2. Three Crimes Before Night
  3. Five Years Taken Quietly
  4. Isaac Stayed in the Famine
  5. The Name They Never Heard

Abraham was one hundred seventy-five when they laid him in the cave at Machpelah. Isaac was seventy-five. The same afternoon, while the old man was still being covered with earth, his younger grandson sat over a pot of lentils.

God Removed Five Years So Isaac Would Not See Esau Click for full size

Lentils, round as a wheel, were what mourners ate. They have no mouth, as the mourner has no words. Jacob cooked them in silence. Esau was somewhere else.

Lentils on the Day of Burial

The Torah says Esau came in from the field exhausted (Genesis 25:29). That exhaustion was not the kind that comes from honest labor. While Jacob stirred the pot and Isaac sat with his grief, Esau was in the field committing three acts.

He found a woman betrothed to another man (Deuteronomy 22:27). He killed someone. He stole.

Three crimes before nightfall. One day. The day Abraham was buried.

Three Crimes Before Night

When Esau came home to Jacob's tent, he was not carrying guilt. He was hungry. He opened his mouth at the pot and said, "Pour it into me" (Genesis 25:30). The word he used, haliteni, means to force-feed, the way one fills a camel's throat. He wanted to be filled. He did not ask what was in the bowl. He did not notice the lentils or their color or what they meant for a house in mourning. He ate and left. He sold the birthright to close the transaction and walked back out into the evening.

What he sold, he had already spent.

Five Years Taken Quietly

Abraham had been promised a good old age (Genesis 15:15). The phrase sits in the covenant like a guarantee. God looked at the grandson in the field and asked what kind of good old age that would be, if Abraham had to watch Esau's day. Better that he leave the world without seeing it.

The same logic reached one generation forward. God had planned for Isaac to live to one hundred eighty-five. Isaac lived to one hundred eighty. The five missing years were not an illness. God removed them so Isaac would not have to see what his son had done on the afternoon of the lentils.

Your kindness is better than life (Psalms 63:4). The death itself, arriving before the knowledge, was the kindness. Isaac was spared. He never counted the missing years. He never knew they had been taken.

Isaac Stayed in the Famine

In the years between Abraham's death and his own, a famine came as severe as the one that had driven Abraham down to Egypt (Genesis 26:1). God told Isaac to stay. Reside in this land. Do not go down to Egypt. Isaac obeyed. He stayed in Canaan and dug for water and found shepherds who claimed every well he opened (Genesis 26:20). He moved and dug again. He did not argue. He did not flee south to abundance.

Abraham had walked the length of the land and then had to buy a burial plot for silver. Isaac had been promised the land and then had to fight shepherds for water. Neither asked why the promise arrived so slowly. Isaac's faithfulness was not a knife raised on a mountain. It was the staying. A man who does not leave, even when the ground is empty and the wells are contested and five years of his life have already been lifted off the far end without his knowing.

The Name They Never Heard

Centuries later, when God spoke to Moses from the bush and Moses asked for the divine name, God revealed something that had never been given to Abraham, Isaac, or Jacob. God had appeared to them as God Almighty. Not by the four-letter name Moses was now hearing (Exodus 6:3).

In that moment God said a thing that sounds like mourning. Alas for those who are lost and are not present. The phrase belongs to grief over the dead. The patriarchs had died generations before. God was mourning what they never received. Not their deaths. Their incompleteness.

They had not asked. Moses asked. Isaac died at one hundred eighty. He never knew the five years were gone. He never knew what Esau had done on the afternoon of the lentils. He stayed in his land, endured his famine, bore his sons, and went to his grave without the name Moses received. He was given kindness instead of years. God chose the kindness. Isaac never knew there had been a choice.


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The texts behind this telling. Some cards carry a translation of the source; others are our own retelling of it, and each card says which. Every card links out to the original.

Bereshit Rabbah 63:12Bereshit Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

Bereshit Rabbah turns to Five Years Stolen from Isaac Because of Esau's Sin.

In Rabbi Yudan, Rabbi Pinḥas, and Rabbi Simon, something was…off. The Holy One, blessed be He, originally intended for Isaac to live a full 185 years. Those missing five years? They were taken away because of Esau’s actions.

That. Your lifespan, shortened by the misdeeds of your offspring.

What terrible acts could warrant such a divine intervention? The Rabbis don't hold back. They accuse Esau of three grave sins: consorting with a betrothed woman, murder, and theft. Rabbi Yudan states in the name of Rabbi Aivu, and Rabbi Pinḥas in the name of Rabbi Levi, that Esau violated a betrothed young woman, citing (Deuteronomy 22:27), "For he found her in the field," which refers to a betrothed woman who was raped. The text then quotes (Jeremiah 4:31), "For my soul is wearied by the killers," to suggest murder, and (Obadiah 1:5), "If thieves came for you, if plunderers of the night…," to imply theft.

The implications are staggering. The text paints a picture of Esau as a man of violence and transgression. The Midrash then presents a powerful, almost plaintive question from God: “This is what I promised to Abraham, and said to him: ‘You shall go to your fathers in peace; [you shall be buried at a good old age]’ (Genesis 15:15) – is this ‘a good old age,’ that he sees his grandson engaging in idol worship, engaging in forbidden sexual relations, and shedding blood? It is preferable that he leave the world [without seeing it].”

It's a stark reminder that even the most blessed lives are intertwined with the actions of others. God's kindness, as expressed in (Psalms 63:4) ("For Your kindness is better than life"), takes precedence over a prolonged existence marred by witnessing such wickedness.

The Midrash then shifts its focus to the infamous scene where Esau sells his birthright for a bowl of red lentil stew. "Esau said to Jacob: Feed me now from that red, red [haadom haadom] dish, as I am weary. Therefore, his name is called Edom" (Genesis 25:30).

Rabbi Ze’eira offers a rather vivid interpretation of Esau's hunger, comparing his open mouth to that of a camel being forcibly overfed. He said to him: ‘I will open my mouth and you continuously pour,’ like what we learned: One may not forcibly overfeed a camel and one may not force feed it. However, one may place food into its mouth [malitin].

But the real interpretive fireworks come with the phrase "from that red, red [ha’adom ha’adom]". Rabbi Yoḥanan and Reish Lakish offer contrasting views. Rabbi Yoḥanan sees the "red, red" as referring to Esau himself and his Patron, implying that Esau sought to consume the stew and the Temples of Jacob’s God. Reish Lakish, on the other hand, interprets it as "from him, and from those like him [hadomin lo]," meaning his descendants.

Reish Lakish expands on this idea, creating a powerful image of Esau and his lineage defined by the color red: "He is red, his cooked food is red, his land is red, his warriors are red, his garments are red, One who is red exacts retribution against him, in red garments." He connects this color to various aspects of Esau's identity, from his birth ("the first emerged ruddy," (Genesis 25:2)5) to his land ("to the land of Se’ir, to the field of Edom," Genesis 32:4) to his eventual fate, suggesting that even divine retribution will be delivered in red.

What are we to make of all this? The Rabbis, through this Midrash, are confronting profound questions about justice, divine intervention, and the legacy we leave behind. It's not just a story about Esau's individual sins, but about the ripple effects of those actions, impacting generations and even shortening the life of his own father. It forces us to consider how our choices, both good and bad, echo through time, shaping not only our own destinies but also the lives of those around us. It is a somber reminder of the interconnectedness of life.

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Bereshit Rabbah 64:2Bereshit Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

Bereshit Rabbah turns to Righteousness of Isaac.

The Rabbis identify ten distinct famines that have struck the world throughout history. Ten! That's a lot of empty plates.* One during the time of Lemekh, stemming from the same cursed ground (Genesis 5:29). * One during the time of Abraham, which drove him down to Egypt (Genesis 12:10). * One during the time of Isaac, our initial point of reference. * One during the time of Jacob, mentioned when his sons traveled to Egypt for grain (Genesis 45:6). * One during the period of the Judges, as recounted in the Book of Ruth (Ruth 1:1). * One during the time of Elijah, a severe drought brought on by the prophet's decree (I Kings 17:1). * One during the time of David (II Samuel 21:1). * One during the time of Elisha, so severe that desperate measures were taken (II (Kings 6:2)5). * And finally, one that is "progressing and coming to the world," plus one in the future, echoing the prophet Amos's warning of a famine "not for bread, not [a] thirst for water, but to hear the words of the Lord" (Amos 8:11).

Rabbi Shmuel bar Nahman offers an interesting perspective: he suggests that the brunt of these famines should have occurred during Saul's reign, but because Saul was descended from a "frail" sycamore tree, God shifted the burden to the time of David. It's a curious image, implying that some generations are better equipped to handle hardship than others.

Then comes a challenging question: "Shila sinned and Yoḥana is punished?" In other words, how can one person's sin lead to another's suffering? Rabbi Ḥiyya Rabba answers with a parable. To hang the basket, he uses a strong peg, one that can bear the weight. Likewise, catastrophes befall those who can withstand them, the "mighty people," as the text puts it. Rabbi Berekhya connects this to David's generation, citing (Isaiah 40:29): "He gives strength to the weary."

There's some debate among the Rabbis about the specifics. Rabbi Ḥelbo claims two famines occurred during Abraham's time, while Rabbi Aḥa distinguishes between the famine during Abraham's time and one during Lemekh's. The text further elaborates on the nature of some of these famines: the one during Elijah's time was a drought, while the one during Elisha's time was marked by panic and exorbitant prices.

Finally, the passage touches upon the famine during the time of the Judges, drawing a parallel to the story of Elimelekh in the Book of Ruth. Rabbi Huna, citing Rabbi Aḥa, describes the economic hardship of the time. However, this leads to a discussion about leaving the Land of Israel during times of scarcity. Rabbi Shimon clarifies that emigration is only permitted when food is completely unavailable. Elimelekh, who left the land, was punished for it, along with his sons.

So, what are we to make of this list of famines? Is it simply a historical record of hard times? Or is it a reminder that these cycles of hardship are intertwined with human actions, divine responses, and the enduring question of how we cope with adversity? Perhaps the most haunting aspect of this teaching is the famine that is "progressing and coming to the world." It serves as a stark reminder that the challenges of scarcity, both material and spiritual, are never truly behind us. They demand constant vigilance, compassion, and a willingness to learn from the past so that we might build a more just and sustainable future.

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Shemot Rabbah 6:4Shemot Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

This very human experience echoes in the ancient texts, specifically in a powerful passage from Shemot Rabbah, a compilation of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Exodus.

" God, blessed be He, is speaking to Moses, expressing a sense of.. well, almost loss. "Alas for those who are lost and are not present," the text says, an expression usually reserved for mourning the deceased. But here, it's applied to the patriarchs. What's going on?

God continues, "Many times I have revealed Myself to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob as God Almighty, but I did not make known to them that My name is the Lord as I made known to you, yet they did not question My ways." God is pointing out that while He revealed Himself to the patriarchs in a certain way, they didn't demand to know the full picture. They didn't challenge the divine plan in the same way Moses does.

The text provides examples. God tells Abraham to walk the length and breadth of the land, promising it to him (Genesis 13:17). Yet, Abraham struggles to even find a burial plot for Sarah, eventually having to purchase one. Did he question God? No.

Similarly, Isaac is promised the land (Genesis 26:3), but he faces conflict over water rights. "The shepherds of Gerar quarreled with Isaac's shepherds," the text reminds us (Genesis 26:20). Did Isaac question God’s promise? Again, no.

And Jacob, promised the very ground he lay upon (Genesis 28:13), had to buy a place to pitch his tent. Did he question God? He did not. As we find in Shemot Rabbah, they accepted their lot without demanding explanations, without questioning God's methods. They didn't ask, as Moses did, "What is Your name?"

But Moses? He questions God right from the start, asking about His name. And later, after speaking to Pharaoh, he cries out, "Since I came to Pharaoh to speak in Your name, he has harmed this people, and You did not deliver Your people!" (Exodus 5:23).

So, what's the point of this comparison? Is God rebuking Moses? Not exactly. The passage isn't about criticizing Moses, but about highlighting the different relationships God had with each generation.

The text continues by emphasizing God's covenant with the patriarchs: "I have also established My covenant to give them the land of Canaan" (Exodus 6:4). Because they didn’t question, God remembered His promise. "Moreover, I have heard the cry of the children of Israel," the text says (Exodus 6:5). Even though the Israelites in Moses' time weren't always behaving perfectly, God heard their cries because of the covenant He made with their ancestors. "And I have remembered My covenant," (Exodus 6:5) it is written.

This leads to the famous verses where God promises redemption: "Therefore say to the children of Israel: I am the Lord, and I will take you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians..." (Exodus 6:6-7). The word "therefore" (lakhen in Hebrew) is key here. Shemot Rabbah equates lakhen with oath-taking, referencing (1 (Samuel 3:1)4). God is swearing that He will redeem them.

According to Shemot Rabbah, the four promises of redemption – "I will take out…I will deliver…I will redeem…I will take" – correspond to the four decrees Pharaoh made against the Israelites. And, as many know, these four promises are mirrored in the four cups of wine we drink at the Passover Seder, fulfilling the verse, "I will raise the cup of salvation and call upon the name of God" (Psalms 116:13).

The passage concludes with God reiterating His promise to bring the Israelites into the land, fulfilling the oath He made to their forefathers. "I will do for them what I said to your ancestors – that I would give them the Land, and they would inherit it by their merit."

Perhaps it's a reminder that faith manifests in different ways across generations. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob showed faith through acceptance and unwavering trust, even in the face of hardship. Moses, on the other hand, showed faith through questioning and demanding justice. Both approaches, it seems, are valid and ultimately lead to fulfilling God's promises. And maybe, just maybe, our questions are as important as our unwavering faith.

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