Reclaiming the Gift of Esau: Toldot

Zelig Golden | 25th Cheshvan 5772 | November 22, 2011

In Parsha Toldot, we meet Isaac’s twin sons, Jacob and Esau. Esau, the first-born is hairy and gruff, a man drawn to the hunt and the field. Jacob, the second-born, is a wholesome, civilized scholar who dwells in tents. (Gen. 25:27).

From the start, Jacob is the preferred son. As the Torah states, “the elder shall serve the younger.” (Gen. 25:23). Through his cunning, Jacob bargains for Esau’s birthright and steals Isaac’s blessing. In doing so, he positions himself to be fruitful and become the lineage holder who gives birth to the twelve tribes of the Hebrew people. Jacob is seen as the golden child. Esau, on the other hand, is spurned.

Perhaps there is something to Esau coming first and his relationship to nature. Might we as a Hebrew people benefit from re-examining our relationship to Esau? The hunter, which Esau represents, has gained a reputation for being barbaric and evil by some in the Jewish tradition. Yet the hunt can be a sacred act. To hunt effectively, especially without modern weapons, one must develop a deep relationship with the natural world.

The ancient arts of interpreting the language of the birds and following the signs in nature are essential hunting skills. To become the great hunter he is famed for, Esau must have developed these skills; skills that bring one closer to G-d’s creation, including the very animals that one hunts. Furthermore, hunting in a Jewish context is not inherently evil, or even impermissible – rather the conduct of the hunt is paramount. The Torah instructs, “If any man . . . traps an animal or bird that may be eaten and spills its blood, he must cover [the blood] with earth.” (Leviticus 17:13). Hunting then, when done with the proper conduct, may be a sacred act.

At a time when we understand that our disconnection from nature has negative consequences, perhaps it’s time to reclaim Esau and what he represents and give him an honored place in our tradition. As twins, Jacob and Esau can be understood to represent two sides of one complete whole – Jacob represents the half who knows the tradition and Esau the one who knows nature. By denying Esau, do we deny an essential part of our humanness and our connection to G-d’s creation?

Jacob himself struggles with this question. He must face his broken relationship with Esau before he can take his name “Israel” and his place as the father of the Hebrew people. Many view Jacob’s nightlong struggle with the angel as a struggle with the spirit of Esau. Only until they are able to struggle and realize that neither can “win” can Jacob integrate Esau, earning the name Israel. (Gen 32: 25-29).

Like Jacob, we too should ask whether we must integrate Esau to balance our life here on earth. Not to suggest that we should all become hunters, but perhaps to balance the strength with which we carry our tradition intellectually, we will benefit from becoming so close to the land that we are capable of hunting in a sacred manner. Perhaps Reb Nachman, the great 18th Century Rebbe, has the formula to reclaim that inner Esau and reconnect us to an essential aspect of ourselves that we have denied: “to go outdoors each day among the trees and grasses … to talk with the One to whom I belong.”