If you believe what you read in the tabloids, it doesn't look very good for Yaakov. But if we take a look for ourselves, it's pretty black and white in his favor. Yaakov is preparing lentil soup when Eisav comes back from an exhausting day of hunting in the field. Eisav says in his immortal, one-of-a-kind choice of words, "Pour [into me] some of that red red [stuff] because I am tired" (25:30). Yaakov doesn't mince words -- he gets right to the point, "As clear as day, sell me your birthright" (ibid 31). Eisav responds, "listen, I'm in the process of dying, and what do I need a birthright for [anyway]" (ibid 32). Yaakov asks him to swear on the sale, and he does. A glatt kosher exchange. The verse we want to focus on is the next one (34):
"And Yaakov gave to Eisav bread and lentil stew; he ate, and drank, got up, left, and Eisav spurned the birthright (ויבז עשיו את הבכרה)."
There are three observations we should draw our attention to:
- The fact that Eisav spurned the bechorah (birthright) is pretty obvious given the undeniable reality that he sold it for some soup. In addition, two pesukim earlier, Eisav says explicitly, "what do I need a birthright for anyway."
- There's a very convenient thing in the Hebrew language called a "pronoun." Why do we have to spill the extra ink by repeating Eisav's name at the end, and in particular, next to his repeated rejection of the bechorah?
- The last observation is less scientific and more stylistic, but important nonetheless -- there a string of undecorated verbs one after the other at the end of this pasuk, and the disgracing of the birthright crowns them all.
Rashi beat us to it with our first question. The explanation is like this: as silly as it is to buy some soup with one's rights to all the blessings of Heaven and Earth, after you eat the soup, and the hunger subsides, it's a great deal sillier to feel good about having done it. The Torah here is testifying to the inner voice in Eisav's heart. There was no remorse. Actually, the opposite was true -- he retroactively reinforced his decision in favor of the soup by further cheapening the value of the birthright.
The repetition of Eisav's name next to his re-rejection of the birthright underscores Eisav's essential connection to that action. Eisav's whole being is colored by the rejection and belittling of those values which are not in line with his lifestyle and worldview. Eisav is named עשו "Eisav" because he was born hairy, like a grown man "עשוי" "[already] made" (25:25 w/ Rashi). The way he was born is the way he lives -- he as a person doesn't have to change -- the world around him has to change, but he is עשוי done. Then, based on his actions (מעשים), he ascribes values to the things around him. He is judge and the law book. Once he sold the birthright, there is no rethinking, no possibility of remorse, it is de facto worthless. If he sold for soup, how could it be worth anything? (Baal haTurim)
From the series of verbs ("he ate, and drank, got up, left, and Eisav spurned the birthright"), we get the sense of unthinking, conditioned action like one describing his morning routine (i.e. wake up, stretch, shower, coffee, breakfast, etc). We see that this reaction to belittle, to criticize, to be negative is framed by the Torah as an almost natural, biological response.
The view from the top
It was an oft-repeated lesson by the Rav Isaac Bernstein zt"l of England that "the 'villains' of the Torah are not there for comic relief, rather the Torah speaks about them so that we can recognize them in us." Just as every Jew has roots in Avraham, Yitzhak, and Yaakov, the husk around those roots are aspects of Eisav, Lavan, Pharoah, etc.
What we've extracted above is that there is a deep-seated power in the human psyche which is capable of belittling anything and everything which is not in line with one's chosen lifestyle. Things of unspeakable value can be anti-valued by the mind to the worth of soup. Dinnertable conversation can easily and often turn towards criticism of the Democrats or Republicans (whichever is relevant), of "secular Jews" or "religious Jews (whichever is relevant), society in general, and from here on out all criticism of friends or family is fair game. Criticism is comfortable. It actually feels good (in the short term)! As it is clear from Eisav, this comes from an unconscious aspect in all of us which defines "right" and "valuable" by how we see ourselves, and everything around us which deviates from that as "wrong" and "not so valuable."
" I have spent the best years of my life giving people the lighter pleasures, helping them have a good time, and all I get is abuse, the existence of a hunted man."
-Al Capone (Carnegie How to Win friends and Influence People)How sure are we that we're so different?
Beefing up the invisible
If Eisav is most essentially descirbed by his act of deprecation and scorn, and we know that Yaakov and Eisav represent opposing forces even from the womb (25:23 Rashi), Yaakov Avinu must be essentially described by the precise opposite -- the ascribing of honor and praise where it rightfully belongs.
We say in the kedusha of shmoneh esrei "קדוש קדוש קדוש ה צבקות מלא כל הארץ כבודו" "the world is filled with His Kavod-Glory" (Yeshaya 6). Filled. We can begin to grasp that the Almighty Who created the world and maintains it in existence does not do so lightly. This ostensibly does not leave much room for our criticism. Quite the opposite -- there is by definition more greatness around us than we can ever fully fathom.
The problem is that we were born into a world in exile. The deep value of other people, of an act of kindness, of introspection, of a mitzvah, of a sincere prayer, of learning Torah -- it's all hidden from us. What is immediate and sensory naturally carries a lot more weight in our minds. A well-dressed man in a 3-piece suit swarmed by journalists with television cameras will of course turn our heads more than a skinny teenager hunched over a gemara. However, when we bring out the hidden value into the sensory world, we can tip the scales.
כבוד "Kavod"comes from the same root as "כובד" which means "weight." We don't see the world directly. We see the world through our Kantian Glasses through which every concept in our mind is associated with a weight.
The other day, I was in a restaurant with my uncle who was visiting from abroad when a famous Israeli musician walked in behind him. My Israeli friend next to me was instantly mesmerized, his gaze pulled by a sort of gravity. Meanwhile, my uncle who had never even heard of this guy, and therefore unaffected by his gravitational field, became offended, "is he more important than me?" We call this phenomenon "being starstruck." It comes from ascribing massive amounts of kavod to a certain individual after seeing them on television and in magazines over the course of many years. If at some point this person seeing this "star" even half a mile a way, he is pulled by his gravitational field.
The same thing happens with inanimate objects. How many of you could comfortably walk on your country's flag? Why not? From a young age, whether in school or at sporting events, we are trained to give honor to the flag as a symbol of our country and its government. Over time, this generates weight around the concept of the flag in our minds, which actually impacts on how we act with respect to it.
Although it is more comfortable to criticize, our job as Jews 24/7 is to place weight where it is due. It is a mitzvah from the Torah to stand when an elderly person walks into a room. Physically he may be well past his prime -- he moves slowly, speaks slowly, hard of hearing, forgetful -- all of this conceals that this every elderly person has survived many difficult life experiences and acquired deeply-rooted wisdom in the process. When we stand as he enters the room, we are tipping the scales back to where they belong.
We have to learn from Eisav. It is almost impossible to judge the world around us detatched from how we live. Our actions condition our minds to ascribe value to everything we come into contact with. The mitzvahs as outlined by halacha are what bring us value things accurately. Slowly, we can condition ourselves to literally see old-age as a badge of honor.
If you see the how much Torah values keeping Shabbat, to the point that its desecration is a capital crime, and then, you see how the halacha instructs us to break Shabbat to save a person in danger even if breaking Shabbat will only afford him a few more moments alive, you begin to see the weight which that Torah ascribes to human life.
A Good Eye
No one really enjoys the company of a negative, sarcastic complainer. And everyone appreciates that rare buoyant personality who always sees the positive in other people and every situation. This person has what the rabbis call an עין טוב a "good eye" (Pirkei Avot 2:9). The simple understanding is that this person sees good in the world. But we can go further to say that he has a "good eye," as in: an eye that works well. He always looks deeper to find the good in things, as opposed to an עיו רעה a "bad eye" which is weak and satisfied with the surface appearances.
Seeing goodness takes work. But it's worth it! G!d made it our choice whether to be reactive blobs, or people who always try to find that core of goodness and praise it, learn from it, and let other people know about it.
Before we finish, we have to ask: how could it be that the sale of the birthright worked? We know that according to Jewish law, if a person doesn't realize the value of what he's selling, the sale does not go through -- it's a mekach ta'ut, a mistaken transaction.
This question points us to the nerve center of our whole discussion so far. Gold is gold. Oil is oil. Look at the Wall Street Journal to figure out what it's going for today. However, spiritual values -- each of us determines its worth to us. For Eisav, the birthright was not worth more than a bowl of soup and therefore it was a fair trade (R Chaim Shmuelevitz Sichot Mussar). We have been given the power to determine through our choices the value of kindness, the value of family, the value of a relationship with G!d, the value of wisdom. We get whatever we put in. If we've invested in marriage, the time we spend together will be all the better. This is true for absolutely everything.
Contrary to what Woody Allen may have us thinking, being Jewish is not about kvetching. It's not about being neurotic. It's not about being sarcastic. Putting down values outside of Judaism is a short-term solution to increasing the relative weight of Judaism in our hearts. Being Jewish is about celebrating what's valuable. We should dedicate our energies to expressing why it is good, not why the opposite is bad. Slowly but surely, we will find ourselves living in a world filled with His Glory.
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