We often think of villains as straightforward, but sometimes their motivations are twisted and surprising. Take Esau, for example.
According to Ginzberg's retelling in Legends of the Jews, Esau was plotting against his brother Jacob, but with a twisted sense of strategy. He wouldn't kill Jacob while their father, Isaac, was still alive. Why? Because Isaac might just have another son, messing up Esau's inheritance. He wanted to be the sole heir, you see.
But the hatred was a burning fire. Esau decided to… hasten his father's death. Then, bam, Jacob would be next. Pretty dark stuff, right? He kept these murderous thoughts hidden, of course, denying everything.
But here's where it gets interesting. "Probably thou knowest not that I examine the hearts of men, for I am the Lord that searcheth the heart," God says. (ibid.) It's a powerful reminder that nothing is truly hidden.
And it wasn't just God who knew. Like all the Imahot – the Mothers of Israel – Rebekah possessed the gift of prophecy. She saw the danger looming over Jacob.
"Thy brother," she warned him, "is as sure of accomplishing his wicked purpose as though thou wert dead." Strong words! She urged him to flee to her brother Laban in Haran and stay there for seven years, until Esau's fury subsided.
Rebekah, in her motherly goodness, hoped that Esau's anger was just a passing phase. A temporary fit of rage that would eventually fade away. She thought time would heal the wound.
Sadly, she was wrong. Esau's hate persisted, a dark shadow over their lives, until the very end. It makes you wonder, doesn't it? How deep can hatred run? And what are we willing to do to protect those we love?