Yaakov and the Birthright: Deception or Destiny?

 

"And the boys grew; and Esav was a cunning hunter, a man of the field; and Yaakov was a quiet man, dwelling in tents" Bresheet 25:27

Birthright (bechorah) in the Ancient Near East, the setting for our Parashah, was very important, socially, legally, economically, and religiously.  One of the privileges of the first born, as stated in legal texts and documents such as the Hammurabi Code (18th century BCE, laws 170-171) or the Nuzi Tablets (Hurrian culture, 15th century BCE), state that the firstborn son typically received a larger share of the inheritance, often a double portion. This was meant to maintain the family estate and ensure stability. Bechorah also meant assuming responsibility and family continuity. In some of the Ancient Near Eastern cultures, it meant a sacred status. Moreover, in most of these societies, the birthright was fixed by birth, and could not easily be sold, traded or taken away.

Understanding this background helps explain why the story of Esav and Yaakov in Toledot, in the context of Bechorah, is so dramatic.

A bird’s eye view of the bechorah episode, in the Parashah, shows that it is driven by acts of trickery, most notably Rivkah’s scheme to have Yaakov receive the patriarchal blessing meant for Esav, which Yitzchak grants due to his blindness. Several specific verses in Toledot clearly hint at, describe, or imply Yaakov’s deception of Yitzchak (and by extension Esav). 

The initiation of Rivkah’s plan of deception is evidenced in Bresheet 27: 6-10. There, Rivkah tells Yaakov, “I heard your father speaking to Esav… Now, my son, do as I command you.” 

Yaakov hesitates because Esav is hairy and he is smooth, “Perhaps my father will feel me, and I shall seem to him as a deceiver.” The verse explicitly uses the word, מתעתע (metaatea, “a deceiver”), acknowledging the deceptive plan. Yaakov fears being caught. 

Rivkah takes responsibility for the guilt when she responds by saying, “Upon me be your curse, my son” (27:13). Naturally, Rivkah understands the morally dangerous nature of the scheme. She disguises Yaakov, “She put the garments of Esav… on Yaakov… and placed the goat skins on his hands" (Bresheet 27:15-16).

However the most explicit hint of deception and statement of impersonation can be found in the following exchanges:

Yitzchak : “Who are you, my son?”

Yaakov : “I am Esav, your firstborn” (Bresheet 27:18-19).

Despite his condition (old age and blindness), Yitzchak gets suspicious. “How did you find it [the prey] so quickly?” he asks. Yaakov invokes G-d: “because the Lord your G-d caused it to happen,” to which Yitzchak responds, “The voice is the voice of Yaakov, but the hands are the hands of Esav” (Bresheet 27:20-22).

While Yaakov’s actions are debatable and raise a theological and ethical problem, especially in light of his eventual emergence as the father of the twelve tribes of Am Yisrael, there seems to be a silver lining in this narrative, as Rabbi Joel Mosbacher suggests. “The Torah,” he asserts, “is full of complex characters. You would think that in a sacred text, the personages would be perfect and morally pure-but the people in the Torah are far from that…. We see ourselves in their strengths and foibles, flaws and humanness. If they were perfect," concludes Mosbacher, “we could hold them as paragons but not relate to them. A parent can relate to Yitzchak and Rivkah. A sibling can relate to Yaakov and Esav. They are very human characters.” Personally, I am happy to see that our forefather was human just like us. At the same time, though, I could not fathom them engaging in illicit deeds.

This tension and the need to reconcile Yaakov’s righteousness with his deception has been discussed for over 2000 years. Jewish sages did not see Yaakov as “stealing” the Bechorah in the simple moral sense. Instead, they offered several explanations, legal, moral and spiritual, that show why Yaakov’s actions were justified or at least not a sin in the conventional sense. Here are some of these approaches.

Ramba”n and Rash”i, for instance, suggest that the verse “The older shall serve the younger,” (Bresheet 25:23) implies a Divine prophecy which Rivkah received and thus know that Yakkov is the chosen heir. According to them, Rivkah’s plan ensures that G-d’s will was fulfilled. She is planning the consummation of G-d’s plan. 

Chaza”l offer another explanation to the move by Rivkah and Yaakov. They  emphasize that since “Esav despised the birthright,” (Bresheet 25:34), treated it lightly, sold it of his free will and was unworthy of it. Midrash Tanchuma and Bava Batra 16b (which lists Esav’s sins on the day he sold his Birthright) describe Esav as impulsive, spiritually uninterested and engaging in immoral behaviour. Thus, according to them, Yaakov did not steal. He simply valued what Esav scorned.

Rash”i takes his defense of Yaakov one step further. His assertion is that Esav misrepresents himself to Yitzchak. Rash”i bases it on his interpretation of Bresheet 25:28, specifically on the Hebrew phrase “tzayid befiv” which literally means “game in his mouth” (referring to Esav’s hunting, trapping skills). Rash”i construes it as Esav using speech to manipulate Yitzchak.

It seems that to justify Yaakov and protect the moral standing of a patriarch, most sages elevate Esav’s guilt. Their portrayal of Esav provides a moral framework in which Yaakov’s act is not a betrayal but a correction of a long-standing deception.

Unlike the above-mentioned Jewish scholars, Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks does not focus on Esav’s demerits.  He takes a more psychological and ethical approach, showing how the story reflects deep truths about identity, destiny and family. Sacks asserts that Yaakov is not naturally deceptive. He notes that he is gentle, studious and responsible. His mother, Sacks believes, forces him to act like Esav to get a blessing that ironically was meant for his own true self, “This is the story," concludes Sacks, “of a young man forced to wear someone else’s clothes, hiding his true identity.” This is not theft. It is a crisis of identity.

Sacks, along with other commentators stress that the blessing Yaakov receives by deception is the material blessing. The Covenantal blessing, the Avrahamic promise, one that is meant for him is given openly, with full awareness, by Yitzchak later (Bresheet 28:3-4).

The blessing, as all sages agree, is not a personal prize. It is meant for the future of the Jewish People and the fulfillment of the covenant. Esav, as the text shows us, does not value it which leads us to the inevitable conclusion that the blessing was rightfully Yaakov’s and what he does is rightfully reclaiming what is already his. In the words of Sacks, “A birthright cannot be stolen from someone who does not value it.”

Covenantal Accountability and Free Will

 

 

              “It is not with you alone that I am making this sworn covenant,   but with whoever is standing here with us today before the Lord our G-d, and with whoever is not here with us today” (Deuteronomy 29:13-14).

              “Life and death I have set before you, blessing and curse. And you shall choose life.” (Deuteronomy 30:19)

  

On his final day, Moshe gathers Am Yisrael for the purpose of renewing their Brit (Covenant) with G-d. The name of the parashah, “Nitzavin,” hints at the solemnity of the occasion. “Nitzav” means “standing” in Hebrew. However, as commentators like Rash”i and Sforno suggest, it means more than just “standing.” It carries the sense of standing firmly, uprightly, with presence, and resolve to honour this important milestone in Jewish history

Parashat Nitzavim includes some of the most fundamental principles of the Jewish faith. This essay will focus on two of them.

The first stresses collective accountability, as the words “whoever is not with us today,” in the first quote above (Deuteronomy 29:13-14) alludes to. The Torah, it tells us, applies to every Jew at all times and is binding on every Jew even those not born yet. All members of Am Yisrael are original covenant partners. In other words, Our Covenant with G-d is not just historical but eternal.

“The phrase, ‘whoever is not here,’ explains Lord Rabbi Sacks, “cannot refer to Yisraelites alive at the time who happened to be somewhere else……since the entire nation was assembled there. Moshe can only mean ‘generations not yet born’…..By agreeing to be G-d’s People,” concludes Sacks, “subject to G-d’s laws, our ancestors obligated us all.”

Midrash Tanchuma (Nitzavim 3) and Talmud (Shavuot 39a) interpret the phrase, which has been central in Jewish thought, “all Jewish souls, past, present, and future, were spiritually present.” 

Ramba”n (Nachmanides) goes even further and asserts that this phrase also includes gerim (further converts to Judaism). Even those who would one day join Yisrael were foreseen and included (proving that Torah’s reach is beyond biological descent).

Sforno highlights the  responsibility and solidarity facet of our Jewish faith suggesting that the covenant is binding on every individual because Yisrael functions as a community where all are responsible for one another.

What these verses establish is that Judaism is a timeless, transgenerational commitment.

The second paramount principle of the parashah that this article wishes to address is Free Will. It is reflected in the second verse above (Deuteronomy 30:19).  There, Moshe, in a stirring declaration, calls upon the People to “choose life,” a declaration that is often cited as the clearest statement of human Free Will.

It seems that at the heart of Parashat Nitzavim lies a profound tension between destiny and free will. It stems from the paradox it echoes. On the one hand, how can unborn generations be forced into a covenant that they never chose, if individuals truly have free will? On the other hand, if a nation as a whole is accountable for each member’s conduct, does that diminish the individual’s authority?

This tension did not escape Jewish thinkers and commentators who were trying to reconcile the two conflicting themes.

Ramba”n and Abrabanel teach us that just as any child is born into a family without choosing it, so too, every Jew is born into the Covenant. The Covenant in their view is a national identity contract which defines our Peoplehood. Ramba”m (Hilchot Teshuvah 5) stresses that though the Covenant is permanent, every human being is fully free to choose obedience or disobedience. How one lives in that Covenant is left to each person’s free choice.

Midrash (Shabbat 88a) contends that though the Covenant binds us objectively, every generation must subjectively re-embrace it by choice.

Modern Jewish thinkers also address this tension between the binding covenant and free choice in Nitzavim.

Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik (1903-1993) distinguishes between Covenant of Fate (Brit Goral) which “coerced”  future generations into a Covenant of Fate since they were born into it and Covenant of Destiny (Brit Yi’ud) in which every individual must freely choose to live out the covenant of destiny (Kol Dodi Dofek...The Lonely Man of Faith).

In Covenant and Conversation on Nitzavim, Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks explains that Covenant is not tyranny but rather a partnership. G-d gives people freedom to choose how to respond, including the possibility of failure, exile and redemption. For Sacks, the phrase “choose life” demonstrates that while we inherit the Covenant, its fulfillment depends on moral freedom.

Rav Kook (1865-1935) asserts that the eternal Covenant means that every Jew, even if they reject it consciously, retains a spark of connection. The manner in which that spark of connection is expressed is left to the individual’s free will.

The lesson that Parashat Nitzavim teaches us is that the Covenant is inescapable as collective identity. Every Jew past, present or future is born into it. However, within that, it points out that every person retains absolute Free Will in how to live, respond, or rebel. The Covenant gives the framework, Free Will determines the journey.

"Mishneh Torah" (Deuteronomy) - Ethics Precede Historical Narratives

 

“Deuteronomy is in essence a programme for the creation of a moral society in which righteousness is the responsibility of all.” - Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks

Last week’s Parashah, Deuteronomy 21:10-25:19, was Ki Teize (“When you go out to war….”). Ramba"m (Maimonides) notes that it is an extraordinarily mitzvah-rich parashah. It lists around 76 out of the 613 Torah commandments thus marking the Torah’s central practical section. It covers diverse topics including laws of war, family laws, interpersonal ethics, civil and commercial regulations as well as agricultural laws.

This week’s Parashah, Ki Tavo (“When you enter the land…”), begins with two mitzvot (Bikkurim and the declaration over tithes) that serve as culmination rituals, celebrating the conclusion of Torah life in the Land.

In his book “Deuteronomy 1-11,” the Yisraeli Biblical scholar, Moshe Weinfeld comments that both the Greek appellation of the book, deuteronomion and the Hebrew appellation "Mishneh Torah" means “repeated law” or “second law” and alludes to the fact that Deuteronomy is a (revised) repetition of a large part of the law and history of the Tetrateuch (the first four books). Unlike Genesis, Exodus, Numbers and Joshua  which narrate Yisrael’s journey and events, Deuteronomy retells history selectively. According to him, Deuteronomy is the “national constitution" defining the covenantal relationship and governing principles.

Earlier Torah books, as many of us have witnessed, chronicle events, consecutively and as they happen: the story of creation, the patriarchal stories, Exodus and Numbers, Sinai and wilderness wanderings. Though Mosaic speeches appear in them, the former are generally embedded in the larger historical narrative.

Ramba”n (1194-1270) similarly asserts that Moshe’s purpose in “Mishneh Torah” (Deuteronomy) was not to recount history but rather empahsize the laws of ethics and those laws that will be relevant once Am Yisrael settles the Land.

Abrabanel (1437-1508) agrees with Ramba"n. He stresses that unlike the earlier Torah books, Deuteronomy is Moshe’s farewell address. His purpose, therefore, is not retelling history but exhortation which is aimed at stirring the people to ethical awareness before his death. The echoing of past events such as the spies, the Golden Calf, the wars with Sihon and Og is didactic. It is not used for historical reasons. Their recitation is used as ethical lessons with the goal of teaching Am Yisrael what happens when they fail to trust G-d and what blessings follow obedience. 

A number of modern Biblical scholars such as Nahum Sarna, Daniel J. Elazar, Jeffrey Tigay and others frame Deuteronomy as closer to a “Covenantal Constitution,” a book of law, a fundamental charter for Yisrael’s political, social and religious life (and other Biblically rooted constitutional traditions) rather than a historical chronicle. In other words, they believe that Deuteronomy’s narrative is often just the framework for moral and covenantal teaching. 

Dear readers, at this point, a little confession is begging to be made. When I sat down to write this essay, the titular name was not my intended topic. The decision to approach the issue, from the angle that was introduced above, ripened when I delved deeper into the text of the last two parashot, Ki Teize and Ki Tavo, successively, beyond the mere desire to refresh my memory of the text.

On the surface, the names of these two parashot suggest that Ki Tavo (“When you enter the Land….”) should logically and chronologically come before parashat Ki Teitze (“When you go out to war…”) since one would assume that Am Yisrael must first “enter” the Land before they need to “go out to war” to defend it.

It was then that I decided to embark on the ride which produced this essay. Evidently, the sequence of these two parashot has engaged the attention of Biblical commentators.

Many of them suggest that the Torah deliberately places Ki Teize before Ki Tavo. They base it on the fact that since Ki Teize is a mitzvah-packed parashah, it was necessary to list them before Am Yisrael settles in the Land.

Rabbi Obadia Sforno (1475-1550), for instance, notes that Am Yisrael would have to face battle immediately upon entry to the Land, both defensive and offensive. The laws of war, as mentioned in Ki Teize, would be needed before the “settling rituals” of Ki Tavo. He further asserts that Ki Teize is a natural continuation from Parashat Shoftim, where the Torah describes how judges and officers must guide Yisrael’s conduct in war.

Ohr Ha'Chayim has an interesting commentary about parashat Ki Teize. According to him, the battle is not just military but a lifelong war against the yetzer hara (evil inclination).Only after the inner ethical and spiritual struggles are addressed can the people truly “enter the Land” in a covenantal sense.

Rash”i and Ramba”n point out that, in Deuteronomy, Moshe is re-telling events selectively and not necessarily in a chronological order. His emphasis is on ethical lessons, not pure history.

Midrash Tanchuma also stresses that Deuteronomy’s repeated phrasing (“Take heed,” “Remember,” “Do not forget”) shows the priority of ethics and faithfulness over historical facts.

Earlier Torah books (Genesis-Numbers), as we have learned, contain a lot of narrative: the patriarch, the Exodus, the wilderness journeys with laws interwoven into the story. Deuteronomy, on the other hand, retells history intermittently and uses it mainly as a teaching tool for forming an ethical and just society under G-d’s sovereignty. Whereas the Tetrateuch focuses on what happened in the past, Deuteronomy has its eyes on the future and emphasizes what should be done. Shabbat Shalom

Judaism and Some Women's Rights

 

                          "Why should our father’s name be eliminated from his family because he had no son?" - Numbers 27:4

One of the themes of this week's Torah portion, Pinchas, concerns women's rights to inheritance and ownership of property in Jewish Law.

Modern - day Women's Rights movements, as we know, have argued, over time, for social, political, and economic equality of the sexes. Ancient Judaism, as history shows, arose, as a religion, in the cradle of the patriarchal world of the Ancient Near Eastern cultures and, similarly, did not set women’s rights as its mission.  

These patriarchal societies, as the name suggests, were highly male dominated where men held primary power, with authority in political leadership, moral authority, social privilege and ownership of property. It meant that male heads of households controlled family structures, inheritance law and religious life, among other spheres of influence. 

Though in some cultures (notably Mesopotamia), women had legal rights to own property, manage businesses, initiate divorce or even hold spiritual roles, these were exceptions and reserved mostly to the elite class.  Even the Hammurabi Code (a legal code dating back to Babylonia, circa 1754 BCE), which provided wives and widows with some protective regulations, considered progressive for the time, still treated women as some form of possession.

Despite the restrictions on women in ancient Jewish law, Judaism specified some rights and valued roles that stood out when set side by side with other contemporaneous ancient societies. It is safe to argue that Judaism contains some proto - feminist elements in comparison to other archaic Near Eastern religions.

One can spot such elements already in the story of creation, recounted in the book of Bre’esheet. There, Torah tells us that “G-d created humankind in His image, male and female He created them” (1:27). In a world such as the Ancient Near East, where myths demean women, the notion that a woman is created in G-d’s image was considered radical.

Another example pointing at some egalitarian overtones in the Eden setting, can be found in Bre’esheet 2:24 where it states, “Therefore, a man shall leave his father and his mother, and cleave to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.” This decree which goes counter to the practice of patrilocality, exercised in other societies, at that time, where wives moved to their husbands' family home suggesting deep union, was revolutionary.

This week’s Parashah takes the titular theme one step further. It is a landmark Torah episode that addresses inheritance rights and highlights women’s role in shaping Jewish law.

The Parashah informs us that prior to entering the Promised Land, G-d instructs Moshe to partition the Land according to tribes, more precisely to the males in each tribe. In the case of death, only the sons will receive their father’s inheritance, thus ensuring that it remains in the family.

One family in the tribe of Menashe, the Zelophehad family, had only daughters. Their father died in the desert. The five daughters are concerned that they will not be entitled to land. They turn to Moshe to request their share.

Since patrilineality, the practice whereby descent and inheritance pass through the male line was the convention, at that time, it was an eventuality unexpected by Moshe. He, therefore, turns to G-d. G-d sides with the daughters, upholds their righteous claim and orders Moshe to grant them their request. This, naturally, is remarkable, especially in a tribal society where land was passed only through males. What is even more momentous is that the Torah adjusts the inheritance law in response to women’s advocacy, challenging existing norms.

There was, however, one condition to granting their request. They must marry men from their own tribe.  Rabbi Sacks sums this episode very succinctly, “The daughters did not lose their rights to the land,” he states, “but they did lose some freedom in choosing their marriage partner.”

Many Jewish scholars claim that it is the wisdom of Zelophehad’s daughters which brought about that outstanding achievement. Here is an overview of what some Jewish sources consider wise about them.

Midrash Sifrei (Numbers 133) states, “The daughters of Zelphehad were wise, they were interpreters of the Torah.” They understood that the purpose of the inheritance laws was to preserve each family’s stake in the land. By requesting an inheritance, they upheld the underlying value of the law, not just its letter.

Rash”i believes that it was their right approach which was respectful and sound that convinced G-d to respond favourably. “The daughters of Zelophehad speak rightly,” says G-d (Numbers 27:7). “Fortunate is the person,” claims Rash”i, in his commentary on this verse, “whose words the Holy One, blessed be He, agrees with.”

Midrash Tanchuma (Pinchas 9) asserts that their wisdom is reflected in their love for the Land which signals their deep faith in the promise of the Land of Yisrael.

The Babylonian Talmud (Baba Batra 119b) praises them for bringing a question whose answer was included in the Torah but had not yet been explicated. “They saw what Moshe did not see,” it states. Their question created a new legal precedent.

Zelophehad’s daughters have become an enduring model of righteous, intelligent and effective contributors to women’s rights within the Biblical and Ancient Near Eastern context. They turned their personal grievances into a lasting legal reform which made them pioneering figures of moral courage and legal influence at challenging and critical times in Jewish history.

Shabbat Shalom, dear Am Yisrael and fellow Jews and a peaceful weekend to all.