Our story today comes from Bereshit Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Genesis. Specifically, we're looking at section 63, which delves into the lives of Esau and Jacob. These twin brothers, locked in competition even before birth, offer a fascinating lens through which to view power, deception, and destiny.
"Then his brother emerged" (Genesis 25:26). This seemingly simple line sparked a rather intriguing exchange. The story goes that an officer once asked a Sage in Beit Seloni, "Who will assume the kingdom after us?" The Sage, instead of giving a direct answer, took a blank piece of paper, grabbed a quill, and wrote: "Then his brother emerged, his hand grasping...heel" (Genesis 25:26). The people exclaimed: "See ancient matters from the mouth of a modern Sage, to inform you how much pain that righteous one suffered!" This cryptic response points to the ongoing struggle, the constant striving for dominance that would define the relationship between Jacob and Esau, even hinting at the pain and trials Jacob, the one holding onto Esau’s heel, would endure.
The Torah tells us, "The lads grew; Esau was a man who knows hunting, a man of the field; Jacob was a simple man, a dweller in tents" (Genesis 25:27). Bereshit Rabbah unpacks this verse with layers of meaning. Rabbi Levi offers a beautiful analogy: "This is analogous to a myrtle and a thorn bush that grew adjacent to one another. When they grew and blossomed, this one produced its fragrance and that one produced its thorns." For thirteen years, the boys went to school together. But after that, their paths diverged. Esau gravitated towards idol worship, while Jacob dedicated himself to the study halls.
Rabbi Elazar even makes a rather blunt statement about parental responsibility: A person must be responsible for his son until age thirteen. From there on, he must say: ‘Blessed that He has absolved me from the punishment of this one.’ A stark reminder of the limits of parental influence and the weight of individual choice.
The text continues, "Esau was a man who knows hunting [tzayid]." But the Rabbis see more than just skill in the hunt. He would "ensnare [tzad] people with his mouth," trapping them with deceit. "You [say you] did not steal; who stole with you? You [say you] did not kill, who killed with you?" According to the text, Esau was a master of manipulation, implicating others in his wrongdoings. The Romans, descendants of Esau, were also known to ignore the denials of the accused.
Rabbi Abahu adds another layer, saying Esau was "a man of the field," hunting both literally and figuratively. He hunted "in the house and hunted in the field." He would feign piety, asking seemingly innocent questions like, "How does one prepare salt?" The commentators explain that he was asking about separating teruma and tithes, even though he knew such obligations didn’t apply to salt and straw. It was all an act. He was trying to appear devout, while in reality, he was anything but.
And then there’s Rabbi Ḥiyya's rather shocking interpretation: "He abandoned himself like a field." This refers to engaging in homosexual relations. The text even includes a plea from Israel to God: "Master of the universe, is it not enough that you subjugated us to seventy nations, but even to this one, that engages in relations like a woman?" God's response is equally striking: "I, too, will exact retribution against him with that expression." This is connected to the verse: "The heart of the valiant of Edom will be on that day like the heart of a woman in anguish" (Jeremiah 49:22). It is important to note that this interpretation, while present in the text, reflects a specific cultural and historical context and may not align with contemporary views.
In contrast to Esau, "Jacob was a simple man, a dweller in tents" – specifically, "two tents; the study hall of Shem, and the study hall of Ever." He dedicated himself to learning and spiritual growth.
Finally, the text touches upon the parental dynamic: "Isaac loved Esau because of the game in his mouth, and Rebecca loved Jacob" (Genesis 25:28). Isaac favored Esau for the "good meat for his mouth and a good cup for his mouth"— physical pleasures and perhaps also the flattery that Esau offered. But "Rebecca loved Jacob" – "the more she would hear his voice, the more she would add love onto her love for him." Her love was based on something deeper: intellectual connection, shared values, and a genuine understanding of Jacob’s character.
So, what can we take away from this deep dive into Bereshit Rabbah? It's a reminder that appearances can be deceiving. That choices matter. And that the echoes of the past often resonate in the present. The story of Esau and Jacob, as interpreted by the Rabbis, isn't just a historical narrative; it's a timeless exploration of human nature, fraught with complexity, contradiction, and ultimately, the enduring power of choice.