Moral Math: Toldot.22

 Moral Math: Toldot.22

Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

November 23, 2022

This week’s Torah portion, Toldot (“Generations,” Genesis 25:19-28:9) begins the account of the third Patriarch of the Jewish People, Jacob.

Of the three Patriarchs, Jacob is the most approachable, the one we can identify with best. Abraham exemplifies unmatched faith in God; Isaac is the silent hero, accepting his fate with both courage and resignation. Unlike them, however, Jacob is self-sufficient, relying on himself and his cleverness more than on the noble ideals taught him by his father and grandfather. 

In this portion we learn of the birth of Isaac and Rebecca’s two sons, the twins Esau and Jacob. From the start, it is not an easy pregnancy, and when Rebecca seeks the meaning of her condition, she is told by God that she is carrying twins. “One will become mightier than the other, [yet] the elder will serve the younger” (Gen. 25:23). It is a struggle that will continue beyond their birth. The Edomites—descendants of Esau, also called Edom (“the red one”), though brothers in relationship to Jacob/Israel, become allies of the Babylonians as they destroy Jerusalem, capturing, killing and selling into slavery hundreds of Judean refugees. Later, the Edomites become the figurative representatives of the cruel Roman Empire, and centuries after that, of the oppressive Roman Catholic Church.

In the Torah portion, Isaac, blind and feeble in his old age, asks Esau to bring him a meal made from the flesh of a hunted animal. In return, Isaac intends to give Esau the blessing of the firstborn. Rebecca, overhearing the conversation, employs Jacob in tricking Isaac. She dresses Jacob in a hairy garment meant to fool Isaac into believing he is Esau. Rebecca then hurries and cooks the dish that Isaac has requested. Isaac, however, is not easily fooled.  “The voice is the voice of Jacob, yet the hands are the hands of Esau,” he exclaims (Gen. 27:22). Yet he allows the masquerade to continue and bestows his blessing on Jacob, the younger of the two twin brothers.

Esau swears to kill Jacob for tricking him (even though Jacob had “bought” the right to the blessing from his brother for a bowl of red lentil soup), and Rebecca arranges for Jacob to flee to her family in her country of origin. Isaac, now understanding what has happened but refusing to take back his words, lets Jacob go with yet another blessing.

The scenario is a troubling one. A question recently raised by students in one of our Religious School classes addresses this issue. Is it OK to cheat in order to make someone do the right thing, they asked.

That is exactly the moral issue that this portion raises. Were Rebecca and Jacob right in deceiving Isaac and Esau? Are one’s integrity and honesty a fair price to pay—even for the sake of survival?

The easy answer, of course, is a firm “no.” A person’s word should be unassailable. It is their bond.

Yet Rebecca and Jacob—and later, Isaac—know that this ideal works only in a perfect world. For various reasons, Esau could not be trusted to take care of his brother, let alone be a Patriarch of the Jewish People. The recognition of this fact impels them to proceed with their ruse.

Yet Jacob will not get off so easily. For the rest of his life he will pay for this act of deception. As he has cheated, so will he be cheated, over and over again. His entire life will be full of trouble, sorrow and tragedy. His children will squabble among themselves. His beloved wife, Rachel, will die before her time. Joseph, the eldest of Rachel and Jacob’s two sons, will be sold into slavery by his own brothers, and Jacob will mourn the loss for many years.

Jacob’s innocence (Gen. 25:27 ish tam reflects simplicity, wholeness, a quiet character, but also innocence) is forever gone, and he will have to learn to live with the consequences of his actions.

Morals aren’t always perfect or simple. Throughout life we often need to make allowances, do the “moral math.” In a perfect world, this would never be necessary. In the real world in which we live, however, perfection is unrealistic. Sometimes, for the sake survival (and at times, not even then), we must make allowances. It’s a slippery slope and a fatal trap for many of us.

The moral of this story is that sometimes we must make difficult choices. Without a doubt, however, there will always be consequences. We will never be whole or perfect again. We will always have to live with the guilt and burden of our choices.

© 2022 by Boaz D. Heilman