In Genesis 33:10, Jacob pleads with Esau, saying, "Please, no, if I have found favor in your eyes, receive my gift from me, for therefore, I have seen your face, as the sight of the face of angels [elohim], and you welcomed me." But what exactly does Jacob mean by comparing Esau's face to that of angels?

Bereshit Rabbah, a classical collection of Rabbinic homilies on the Book of Genesis, dives deep into this very question. It offers a fascinating interpretation of Jacob's words. The text notes the repetition: "Jacob said: Please, no, if I have found favor in your eyes, receive my gift from me, for therefore [I have seen your face], as the sight [kirot] of the face [penei] of elohim" – suggesting that "the face of elohim" implies judgment, and so does "your face." In other words, Jacob may be subtly acknowledging Esau's potential power over him, his ability to judge him for past wrongs.

But who are these elohim? The commentary offers two possibilities. In one sense, elohim could mean judges. Jacob is acknowledging Esau's authority. In another sense, elohim could refer to God. This connects to the idea found in Exodus 23:15, "They shall not appear before Me [yera’u fanai] empty-handed." Jacob may be suggesting that just as one doesn't approach God without an offering, so too, one shouldn't approach Esau empty-handed. It’s a fascinating play on words, layering meaning upon meaning.

The narrative continues, "Please, take my gift that was brought to you as God has graced me, and because I have everything. He urged him, and he took it" (Genesis 33:11). Bereshit Rabbah highlights Jacob's humility, pointing out that Jacob says, "that was brought," not "that you brought." This implies that the wealth came to Esau "on its own," perhaps suggesting that Esau didn't have to work as hard for it.

But Esau’s acceptance wasn't straightforward. "He urged him, and he took it" – suggesting Esau appeared hesitant, almost withdrawing, while simultaneously reaching out to accept the gift. The text paints a picture of someone trying to maintain appearances while still accepting a benefit.

This leads to a fascinating observation by Yehuda ben Rabbi Simon: "Those who grovel [mitrapes] for pieces [beratzei] of silver" (Psalms 68:31) – he opens his palm [matir et hapas] and is placated [umitratze] with silver. It's a stark commentary on human nature and the power of wealth.

The text then veers into an anecdote about Rabbeinu (often referring to Rabbi Judah HaNasi, the redactor of the Mishnah), and Reish Lakish. Reish Lakish advises Rabbeinu, "Do not take anything from anyone, and you will not need to give anything." This is illustrated by a story of a woman offering Rabbeinu a bowl with a knife. Rabbeinu returns the bowl, keeping only the knife. An imperial messenger covets the knife and takes it, proving Reish Lakish's point: accepting gifts can lead to further demands and losses.

Finally, the text concludes with a saying from an "ignoramus" to Rabbi Hoshaya. The ignoramus suggests that all the gifts Jacob gave to Esau will eventually be returned to the messianic king. He bases this on Psalms 72:10, "The kings of Tarshish and of the islands will return tribute." The use of "return" rather than "bring" is key, implying a restoration of what was once given away. Rabbi Hoshaya acknowledges the wisdom in this, promising to share it publicly.

So, what do we take away from all of this? It seems the story of Jacob and Esau, and the rabbinic interpretations surrounding it, offer us a rich tapestry of insights into human relationships, the complexities of gift-giving, the dangers of greed, and the ultimate hope for redemption. It makes you wonder, doesn't it, about the gifts we give and receive, and the deeper meanings they might hold.