It’s a question as old as… well, as old as families themselves. And in the Book of Jubilees, we find a powerful little exchange between Jacob and his mother, Rebekah, that sheds light on just that.
The Book of Jubilees, for those unfamiliar, is an ancient Jewish text that retells the stories of Genesis and Exodus with some… interesting additions and perspectives. Think of it as the director’s cut of the Bible, offering unique insights into the lives of our ancestors.
In this particular passage, Jacob is speaking to his mother, Rebekah. She has just instructed him to honor his father, Isaac, and his brother, Esau. Now, this might seem like a no-brainer. Honor your parents and siblings—it's practically commandment number five! But the context is important. Jacob and Esau had a complicated relationship. To put it mildly.
So, Jacob responds with an almost touching earnestness. "I will do everything as thou hast commanded me; for this thing will be honour and greatness to me, and righteousness before the Lord, that I should honour them." He understands that honoring his family isn’t just a social obligation; it's a path to righteousness, to being right with God. It's about striving for tzedek, justice and righteousness.
What’s really striking is his next line: "And thou too, mother, knowest from the time I was born until this day, all my deeds and all that is in my heart, that I always think good concerning all." He’s saying, "Mom, you know me. You know my intentions are good." It’s a plea for understanding, a reassurance that he wants to do the right thing.
And then comes the heart of the matter. "And how should I not do this thing which thou hast commanded me, that I should honour my father and my brother! Tell me, mother, what perversity hast thou seen in me and I shall turn away from it, and mercy will be upon me."
He’s not just agreeing out of duty. He's actively seeking self-improvement. He's asking, "If there's something wrong with my approach, with my heart, show me. Help me be better." He's inviting her to hold him accountable, not out of shame, but out of a genuine desire for teshuvah, repentance and return.
It's a powerful moment of vulnerability and a testament to the importance of family relationships. It's a reminder that honoring our family, even when it’s difficult, isn't just about following rules; it’s about striving for righteousness, seeking self-improvement, and fostering a spirit of forgiveness and understanding. It's about recognizing that within the messy tapestry of family, there lies an opportunity for immense personal growth and connection to something greater than ourselves.
So, the next time you're grappling with a family conflict, remember Jacob's words. Remember his willingness to be vulnerable, to seek guidance, and to strive for a better relationship. Maybe, just maybe, that's the secret to a happier family—and a more righteous life.