Parshat Toldot5 min read

Rebecca's Womb Was a War Between Two Natures Set at Creation

When Rebecca's twins fought inside her, she sought the deepest interpretation. The tradition linked what she felt to natures woven in at creation.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. What Rebecca Could Not Explain
  2. Two Nations, Two Creatures
  3. The Fifth Day and What It Created
  4. What Rebecca Feared for Jacob

What Rebecca Could Not Explain

Rebecca was seven months pregnant when she understood something was wrong. It was not the ordinary trouble of a hard pregnancy. It frightened her at a deeper level than physical pain. The twins inside her were, in the language of the midrash, striving to kill each other. When she walked near the tents of idol worshipers, one of them pressed toward the opening. When she walked near a house of Torah study, the other pressed toward the opening. The competing pressures left her barely able to stand.

She went to inquire of God. The response she received is one of the most compressed prophecies in the Torah: two nations are in your womb, and two peoples shall be separated from within you; one people shall be stronger than the other, and the elder shall serve the younger (Genesis 25:23). She came back carrying a sentence that would take centuries to work itself out.

Two Nations, Two Creatures

The conflict in her womb belonged to nature itself. Each child was already expressing a character that was not chosen but given, the way every creature expresses its nature from birth. Esau's nature pressed toward the idol tent. Jacob's nature pressed toward the Torah house. Neither was making a decision. They were demonstrating, before birth, what they had been made of.

The Alphabet of Ben Sira, composed between 700 and 1000 CE, asks why animals behave the way they do and answers from creation. The cat pursues the mouse not because of a particular grudge but because the nature God gave the cat at creation includes pursuit of the mouse. The enmity between them began when the mouse slandered the cat before God, complaining that they were partners and had nothing to eat. God gave the cat jurisdiction over the mouse in response. The enmity became structural and permanent, coded into both animals at their making.

The Fifth Day and What It Created

The Ginzberg account of the fifth day of creation describes God taking fire and water, opposing elements, and fashioning from them the fish of the sea. The sea itself was filled with animals whose numbers exceeded the land animals by so large a margin that the land creatures are almost an afterthought. Every water creature carried a specific set of behaviors from its creation, not acquired habits but built-in natures. The leviathan was made for destruction and constrained from it. The great fish was appointed for the swallowing of Jonah from the fifth day forward, long before Jonah was born.

Rebecca's twins were human beings, not animals. But the tradition uses the animal framework to show what was happening in her womb. Each child had a nature as given as the cat's nature or the fish's. The conflict was not a conflict of choices. It was a conflict of natures placed in the same container before they had developed enough to be separated from each other.

What Rebecca Feared for Jacob

The Book of Jubilees, c. 160-150 BCE, adds a thread the Torah itself omits. Rebecca's deepest fear was that Jacob would marry a Canaanite woman the way Esau had. She had watched Esau's marriages become a constant source of grief for both herself and Isaac. The Canaanite women brought practices and loyalties into the household that were incompatible with the covenant, and Esau's willingness to accept this incompatibility confirmed what Rebecca had suspected since before his birth: his nature could not hold what the covenant required.

Her entire effort, including the deception of Isaac, was aimed at preserving Jacob from the same trajectory. She understood what was at stake better than anyone in the household because she had felt the war of natures before either child had drawn a breath. She had sought God's interpretation and received it. Every action she took afterward was a response to what she had been told in that inquiry.


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The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Legends of the Jews 6:7Legends of the Jews

The story of Rebekah and her twin sons, Jacob and Esau, is a wild ride that takes us just there. According to Legends of the Jews, by Louis Ginzberg, Rebekah's pregnancy wasn't exactly smooth sailing. In fact, seven months in, she started wishing she was still childless! Why? Because her unborn twins were already at each other's throats, quite literally. Ginzberg tells us they were "striving to kill each other."

The scene: Rebekah walks near a temple dedicated to idols, and Esau, the future hunter and man of the field, stirs restlessly within her. But when she passes a synagogue or a Bet ha-Midrash (house of study), Jacob, the future patriarch, tries to burst forth. These weren't just random kicks; these were ideological battles being fought in utero!

Their arguments, even before birth, foreshadowed their destinies. Esau, it's said, believed only in the here and now, the earthly pleasures. Jacob, however, argued, "My brother, there are two worlds before us, this world and the world to come.. If it please thee, do thou take this world, and I will take the other." An unborn child contemplating the afterlife? This is classic Jewish storytelling. The stakes get even higher. According to the legend, Samael (the angel of death), often identified as a powerful adversarial figure, was in league with Esau, actually wanting to kill Jacob while he was still in the womb. But don't worry, Jacob had backup. The archangel Michael, no less, rushed to his aid, even attempting to burn Samael! This cosmic conflict was so intense that, as Ginzberg recounts, God had to convene a heavenly court just to arbitrate between Michael and Samael.

Even the fight over the birthright, that pivotal moment in their lives, started before they were born. Each twin wanted to be the first to enter the world. But Jacob, ever the strategist, conceded only when Esau threatened their mother's life. In other words, Jacob gave way, but not without a plan.

It makes you wonder, doesn't it? How much of our fate is determined before we even take our first breath? And how early do those defining conflicts really begin? The story of Rebekah, Jacob, and Esau reminds us that sometimes, the most profound battles are fought in the most unexpected places, even within the very womb. And that even before we are born, the choices we make, or that are made for us, can shape the course of our lives and the world to come.

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Book of Jubilees 25:16Book of Jubilees

Book of Jubilees turns to Rebekah, Jacob's Transgression.

One such moment involves Jacob, later known as Israel, and his mother Rebekah. Remember the story of Jacob and Esau? The trickery, the stolen blessing? The Book of Jubilees gives us more insight into Rebekah’s fears and motivations. She was desperate to prevent her sons from intermarrying with the Canaanites. And with good reason, from her perspective.

How Jacob makes a solemn promise to his mother. He declares, "I refuse to do as he hath done. I swear before thee, mother, that all the days of my life I will not take me a wife from the daughters of the seed of Canaan, and I will not act wickedly as my brother hath done." Ouch.

He continues, seeking to reassure her: "Fear not, mother; be assured that I shall do thy will and walk in uprightness, and not corrupt my ways for ever." It's a powerful commitment, a son vowing to honor his mother's wishes and maintain a certain moral and ethnic purity. Rebekah clearly saw something dangerous in the Canaanite culture that she wanted to protect her son from. Perhaps it was the idolatry, the perceived moral laxity, or simply a desire to maintain the distinct identity of her lineage.

How does Rebekah react to this heartfelt promise? The text says, "And thereupon she lifted up her face to heaven and extended the fingers of her hands, and opened her mouth and blessed the Most High God, who had created the heaven and the earth.." It’s a moment of profound gratitude and relief. She's so moved by Jacob's commitment that she offers a spontaneous blessing to God. You can almost picture her, face radiant, hands raised in supplication and thanks.

It makes you wonder, doesn’t it? What were the real stakes for Rebekah? Why was this issue of marriage so crucial to her? Was it simply about preserving lineage, or was there something deeper at play? The Book of Jubilees doesn't explicitly spell it out, but it certainly gives us plenty to ponder. It reminds us that even in these ancient stories, we find echoes of timeless human concerns: family, identity, and the struggle to maintain values across generations.

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Alphabet of Ben Sira 37Alphabet of Ben Sira

In the beginning, the cat and the mouse were friends. Partners, actually. But according to the Alphabet of Ben Sira, a satirical medieval text composed between 700 and 1000 CE, their friendship ended because of slander - and God's punishment was permanent.

The mouse went behind the cat's back and complained to God: "The cat and I are partners and we have nothing to eat." It was a scheme. The mouse wanted God to give him the food and cut the cat out. God saw through it immediately. "You slandered your friend so that you could eat from him," God declared. "Now he will eat you, and you will be his food."

The mouse protested. God wasn't having it. "Haven't you learned from the sun and the moon?" God asked. The sun and moon were originally created equal in size and brightness, but the moon slandered the sun, so God diminished the moon and made the sun greater. The same principle applied here: betray your equal, and you'll be reduced beneath them.

The mouse begged for mercy, terrified that his entire species would be wiped out. God relented - partially. "I will allow a remnant of you to remain, as I did for the moon." The mouse would survive as a species, but only as prey.

Then the mouse, in a final act of desperate aggression, bit the cat on the head. The cat pounced, threw the mouse to the ground, and killed it. And from that moment on, the hatred between cats and mice was sealed. It's a fable about the cost of lashon hara - evil speech - dressed up in animal fur. Betray a friend, and you don't just lose the friendship. You become the food.

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Legends of the Jews, I. The Creation Of The World, The Fifth DayLegends of the Jews

The fifth day of creation was all about bringing forth life into the waters and the skies.

The Legends of the Jews, as retold by Ginzberg, tells us that God took fire and water, seemingly opposing elements, and from them fashioned the fishes of the sea. And get this: the number of water-dwelling animals dwarfs those on land! For nearly every land animal (except maybe the weasel, for some reason!), there's a corresponding creature in the sea, plus a whole host more that exist only in the watery depths.

Who rules this vast underwater kingdom? Why, it's Leviathan! This isn't just any fish; it's the fish. Leviathan, along with all the other sea creatures, was created on the fifth day. The story goes that initially, God created a male and female Leviathan, but fearing that their combined power could obliterate the Earth, He… well, He took care of the female. Let's just say she was "put into brine" to be preserved for a future, very special occasion.

Leviathan is so colossal that to quench his thirst, he needs all the water flowing from the Jordan River into the sea. Imagine that! And when he's hungry, a hot breath blasts from his nostrils, causing the ocean to churn and boil. Even Behemot, another monstrous creature, feels uneasy until he knows Leviathan has had his fill.

Now, you might think nothing could keep such a behemoth in check, but there's one tiny fish, the stickleback, that Leviathan fears. Apparently, this little fish was specifically created to keep the big guy in line. Talk about David and Goliath!

But Leviathan isn't just about size and power. He's also a being of incredible beauty. His fins radiate light so brilliant they can obscure the sun. His eyes shine with such splendor that they light up the sea. It's no wonder the text describes him as God's plaything, a creature in whom He takes delight.

But here’s the kicker: Leviathan has a bit of a… hygiene problem. His foul odor is so potent that if it were to reach Paradise, it would make the place uninhabitable. So, what's the deal with this massive, odorous, yet magnificent creature? Well, according to tradition, Leviathan isn't just swimming around for kicks. He has a destiny.

His ultimate purpose? To be served as a delicacy to the righteous in the world to come! Remember that female Leviathan preserved in brine? She’s part of the meal! The male Leviathan is destined to offer a spectacular sight before being consumed.

When the time comes, God will summon the angels to battle Leviathan. But Leviathan is so formidable that the angels will flee in terror at the mere sight of him. Swords will bounce off his scales like straw, and darts and stones will simply rebound without leaving a mark. Dejected, the angels will give up, and God will command Leviathan and Behemot to fight each other. The battle will end with both monsters dead – Behemot slain by Leviathan's fins, and Leviathan killed by Behemot's tail.

From Leviathan's skin, God will construct tents to shelter the righteous while they feast on his flesh. Each person will receive a portion according to their merits, with no envy or resentment. What remains of Leviathan's skin will be stretched over Jerusalem as a canopy, illuminating the entire world. And the leftover flesh? It will be distributed among the rest of humanity for trade.

But the fifth day wasn't just about sea creatures. It was also the day the birds were created. Fish and birds are seen as closely related. Fish are formed from water, while birds are made from marshy, water-saturated ground. And just as Leviathan reigns over the fishes, the Ziz rules over the birds.

The Ziz gets its name from the variety of flavors its flesh possesses – "it tastes like this (zeh), and like that (zeh)." According to Ginzberg, the Ziz is as enormous as Leviathan, with ankles resting on the earth and its head reaching the sky. There's even a story of travelers who mistook the Ziz standing in shallow water for a safe place to bathe, only to be warned by a heavenly voice of the unimaginable depth!

The Ziz's wings are so massive that they darken the sun when unfurled, protecting the Earth from the destructive storms of the south. One time, a rotten Ziz egg fell to the ground, causing a flood that destroyed sixty cities and crushed three hundred cedars. Yikes!

The Ziz is also known as Renanin, the celestial singer. He's also called Sekwi, "the seer," due to his connection to the heavens. And "son of the nest," because his young break free from the shell directly from the nest, without needing to be hatched.

Like Leviathan, the Ziz is destined to be a delicacy served to the righteous at the end of time, a reward for abstaining from unclean fowl. As we find in Midrash Rabbah, everything in creation has a purpose, even the most fantastical creatures.

So, the next time you look up at the sky or out at the ocean, remember the fifth day of creation. Remember Leviathan and the Ziz, these colossal, wondrous beings, and the promise of a time when even they will play a part in the ultimate reward. What does it all mean? Perhaps it reminds us that even in the most bizarre and seemingly impractical aspects of our tradition, there are layers of meaning, hinting at a future beyond our wildest imaginations.

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