Dear TBZ Community,
In this week’s Torah portion, Toldot, we begin the story of Jacob and Esau. The sons of Rebecca (Rivkah), rivals even before their birth, these two brothers were born to be foes:
וַיִּתְרֹצְצוּ הַבָּנִים בְּקִרְבָּהּ
The children struggled in her womb (Genesis 25:22).
The word vayitrotzetzu (“struggled”) can also mean running or moving quickly. According to midrash (commentary), whenever Rivkah passed by a house of Torah study during her pregnancy, Jacob pushed to emerge; whenever she passed a pagan sanctuary, Esau pushed instead (Genesis Rabbah 63:6). This midrash suggests not only different paths, but also extremes, casting each brother in a singular, defining way.
I have long grappled with our tradition’s interpretations of Jacob and Esau: a narrative that, even before birth, casts one as good and the other as evil.
Yalkut Me’am Lo’ez, an 18th Century Judeo-Spanish commentary on the Torah, quotes a midrash in which Abraham spoke to his daughter-in-law, Rebecca, about her sons. (Even though based on the chronological order of the story, Abraham had already died by the time Rebecca was pregnant.)
He [Abraham] gave her the following message in the name of God: “You have two children in your womb. Each one will give us rise to a separate kingdom and nation. While they are still in your womb, I will divide them; one will be good and one will be wicked. The two will never be equal. When one empire expands, the other will be subjugated” (Yalkut Me’am Loez to 25:23, page 455 English edition).
This framing – two brothers created in opposition – feels deeply problematic. We collectively carry the baggage of this worldview, one of binaries: those who are not like us, those whose stories differ, those whom we fear, those whose perspectives threaten us, they are on the wrong side. The binary resurfaces again and again in how we relate to others.
Toldot also gives us another profound moment, one that deepens the rivalry. Jacob and Rivkah scheme to trick Isaac, in his blindness, to give Jacob his blessing. First, Rivkah tells Jacob to go and get two choice kids from his flock so she can make a stew to bring to Isaac; Jacob worries Isaac will recognize that he is not Esau. Next, Rivkah gives Jacob Esau’s clothes so as to disguise his body. When Isaac calls Jacob to come close, he seems to doubt who is really there with him. Jacob approaches his father wearing the furry clothing of his brother. We read about Isaac’s hesitation and doubt when the voice he hears is clearly not the voice of his son Esau (Genesis 27:22):
וַיִּגַּשׁ יַעֲקֹב אֶל־יִצְחָק אָבִיו וַיְמֻשֵּׁהוּ וַיֹּאמֶר הַקֹּל קוֹל יַעֲקֹב וְהַיָּדַיִם יְדֵי עֵשָׂו׃
So Jacob drew close to his father Isaac, who felt him and wondered. “The voice is the voice of Jacob, yet the hands are the hands of Esau.”
“The voice is the voice of Jacob, yet the hands are the hands of Esau.” Isaac knows something is wrong as he hears his voice, he asks to also touch his son to see who he really is. The 13th century French Biblical commentator Chizkuni explains:
הקל קול יעקב: לא נסמוך על הקול שלפעמים הוא משתנה ע״י צעקה וקורא פעמים עבה ופעמים צלול אבל על כי היו ידיו כידי עשו אחיו שעירות כסבור דבר ברור הוא ודבר זה גרם לו ברכה
The voice is the voice of Jacob: The voice is distinctly the voice of Yaakov;” Yitzchak was not willing to base his judgment on the voice alone, as people are apt to disguise their voices on many occasions, both voluntarily and involuntarily. However he did not let this disturb him as the evidence of Yaakov’s arms and hands which were hairy were a much better indication that Esau indeed was standing in front of him. This was why he proceeded to give him the blessing he had intended to give Esau.
Chizkuni’s words are striking: “People are apt to disguise their voices on many occasions, both voluntarily and involuntarily.” Isaac doesn’t rely on the voice alone, even though in this story that caution leads him to bless the wrong child. Chizkuni highlights the connection between voice and action: what we say and what we do are not always perfectly aligned. Sometimes we intend to act consistently with our words; sometimes we do not. Sometimes, even unconsciously, we fail to “walk the talk.”
These insights highlight the tension between voice and action, and how easily we can misread or misunderstand one another. Even when we intend to act in alignment with our words, miscommunication, assumptions, and incomplete understanding can create distance.
And yet, the story does not leave us only with rivalry. Years later, when the brothers finally meet (in the Torah portion Vayishlach), we learn:
וַיָּרָץ עֵשָׂו לִקְרָאתוֹ… וַיְחַבְּקֵהוּ … וַיִּבְכּוּ
“Esau ran to greet him. He embraced him… he kissed him, and they wept” (Gen. 33:4)
The embrace does not erase the past. It is not a fairytale “happily ever after.” The hurt, fear, and years apart remain. But it is a moment of recognition, tenderness, and partial healing; a signal that even deeply divided relationships can hold a spark of connection.
As we enter the month of Kislev this evening, with its short days and long nights, Hanukkah approaches: a reminder that even in darkness we are called to create light. In our relationships, in our communities, and in our own hearts, we can bring light that allows us to see one another more clearly, more compassionately, even amid conflict.
Perhaps that is the invitation of Toldot for us today: to notice the places where fear, anger, or misunderstanding create distance, and to choose, even in small ways, to reach toward one another with care, curiosity, and honesty, ensuring that the path of “running” can sometimes lead not away, but closer.
May this Shabbat bring renewal and blessing.
May we find strength, courage, and patience, and open our hearts with generosity.
May this Shabbat bring moments of stillness, clarity, and connection.
May we reach for one another gently and lovingly.
Hodesh Tov (happy new month) & Shabbat Shalom,
Rav Claudia