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Parashat Toledot opens with the birth and childhood of Yaakov and Esav, telling how the two children followed very different paths as they approached adulthood: "The boys grew up, and Esav became a skillful hunter, a man of the outdoors, while Yaakov was a mild man who dwelled in tents" (25:27). What happened before "the boys grew up?" What kind of children were they? Rashi, paraphrasing Chazal, writes that prior to age thirteen, Yaakov and Esav were visibly indistinguishable: "So long as they were young, they were not distinguishable in their behavior and no one carefully discerned their natures. Once they reached thirteen years of age, this one turned to the study halls and the other turned to idolatry." Apparently, Rashi was troubled by the questions we posed, why the brothers set out on separate ways only after maturity. Rashi answers that only during the boys' teen years, when the adolescent establishes his independence and personal identity, could one discern the different tendencies of Yaakov and Esav. These differences existed even earlier, but they were manifest externally only at this point. (See the work, "Devek Tov" who explains Rashi in this way.)

This Midrash perhaps seeks to resolve another difficulty, as well, among the greatest anomalies of Sefer Bereishit: how is it that Yitzchak and Rivka raised an Esav, a personality that has become synonymous with the word "rasha" (wicked person)? How could these two spiritual giants beget two sons so different from one another in temperament and tendencies? Perhaps the Midrash seeks to explain that, alas, the parents could not detect Esav's inclinations until it was too late, when he had already reached adulthood. As he was indistinguishable from Yaakov in childhood, Esav was raised with the same rearing and educational techniques as his calmer, quieter, more obedient twin.

Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch, however, takes the opposite approach in understanding this Midrash. In a passage that only someone of Rav Hirsch's stature could write, he views this Midrash as a subtle but harsh criticism of Yitzchak and Rivka for their failure to identify Esav's personality and tailor his education accordingly. Rav Hirsch introduces his comments by noting that "nowhere do Chazal avoid exposing the weaknesses in the actions of our great patriarchs; specifically in this way they elevate and magnify its message for all times." Chazal here find fault, claims Rav Hirsch, in the fact that Yaakov and Esav received similar forms of education. No effort was made to discern between their distinct personalities, which clearly warranted different types of training. Esav's skills could have easily been harnessed and channeled in a positive direction, such that he and his brother would complement, rather than conflict with, one another. Teaching the same curriculum to such different children was bound from the outset to result in partial failure and partial success; one's child's education is another child's destruction.

Generalizing this principle somewhat, we return to a concept we discussed in our S.A.L.T. series on Parashat Vayera. We saw that Avraham Avinu was able to interrupt his "meeting" with the Almighty and instantly tend to the most basic, mundane needs of three strangers. He therefore represents the purest ideal of "chesed," the ability to leave one's own limited frame of reference and detect the needs of each individual. This requires as well careful consideration of every person's general tendencies and current situation. Just as one cannot superimpose his own inclinations on others, so must he avoid assessing one person on the basis of someone else's character. Only by properly understanding the personal characteristics of each individual can one understand how to best help him and have an impact upon him.

*****

Towards the beginning of Parashat Toledot we read of Yaakov's purchase of the "bekhora" - birthright - from Esav. Esav, who "spurned the birthright" (25:34), happily sold the privileges associated therewith in exchange for some bread and lentil soup. As we know, Chazal viewed this transaction as evidence of Esav's shallow outlook and idealistic vacuum. He showed preference for ephemeral, worldly delights over eternal, spiritual privileges. The question, though, arises, why would this shallowness prompt Esav to sell the birthright? The primary privilege associated with the birthright is the double portion of the father's estate upon his death. Granted, back then the birthright also entailed religious and sacrificial responsibilities in which Esav had no interest. But why would he forfeit his rights to twice Yitzchak's assets, especially in light of Avraham's having bequeathed all his wealth to Yitzchak (25:5)?

We will briefly look at some of the answers offered by our classic commentators:

The Abarbanel explains quite simply that as Yaakov longed merely for the spiritual privileges associated with the birthright, an implicit stipulation was made that the sale would not affect Esav's right to the double portion of the inheritance. A somewhat similar approach is taken by the Ralbag, who explains that Yaakov intended only to secure the special blessing traditionally bestowed upon the firstborn. Understanding that in this family the special blessing involved God's promise to and covenant with Avraham, Yaakov sought this blessing. No other conditions were involved in the sale.

The Ibn Ezra offers an entirely different and startling answer. Esav had no interest in the financial privileges of the firstborn because Yitzchak had no money to bequeath anyway! According to the Ibn Ezra, Yitzchak lost all the money left to him by Avraham and was now left impoverished. (Later, when Yitzchak migrates to Gerar, he once again builds a sizable fortune.) As proof, the Ibn Ezra points to Yitzchak's request that Esav bring him food before receiving his blessing. Why would Yitzchak need his son to bring him dinner? Apparently, reasons the Ibn Ezra, Yitzchak had no means by which to support himself. The Ibn Ezra cites further proof from Yaakov's having fled from home penniless (see 32:11). If Yitzchak and Rivka had money, certainly they would not have allowed their son to leave home empty-handed! The Ibn Ezra therefore maintains that the family had no money, so the inheritance privileges did not interest Esav.

The Ramban strongly rejects this assertion of the Ibn Ezra and refutes both proofs. Yitzchak's request that Esav bring him delicacies wasn't necessary for financial reasons, but rather as part of the blessing ceremony. As for Yaakov's empty suitcases, Yitzchak and Rivka felt he would be safer traveling without money or valuables. The Ramban therefore poses a different theory to explain Esav's indifference to the birthright, that in ancient times the firstborn did not enjoy the privilege of a double portion. The birthright involved only the firstborn's "inheriting the father's stature and authority, that he will have honor and superiority over the younger [brother]." As Yitzchak's stature involved primarily religious responsibilities, Esav had no interest in the birthright and gladly dispensed of it in exchange for a hearty meal.

(Taken from Yehuda Nachshoni's Haggot Be-parshiyot Ha-Torah)

*****

In response to a famine in his area, Yitzchak relocates in Gerar, while he enjoys prosperity and success: "Yitzchak sowed in that land and reaped a hundredfold the same year, and God blessed him" (26:12). While on the straightforward level of interpretation this verse clearly refers to agricultural success, Chazal added a homiletic interpretation as well, understanding this "planting" as a reference to charity: "He took an entire tenth of his wealth and 'planted' charity for the poor" (Pirkei De-Rabbi Eliezer, 33; Rav Shemuel Gantzfried, in his "Apiryon," cites a similar Midrash from the Yalkut in Parashat Vay). Rashi, in his second explanation of the finaclause in this verse ("and reaped a hundredfold"), interprets that phrase as a reference to charity, as opposed to the Midrash which extracted this idea from the verb "he planted." Rashi's explanation likewise originates in Midrashic literature, in Bereishit Rabba 64. It seems that although Rashi (in his second approach) and Bereishit Rabba accepted the general association between this verse and charity, they decided against focusing on the verb "planting" as the basis for this connection. Indeed, the first Midrash cites requires some explanation. How does "planting" relate to charity?

Rav Shemuel Gantzfried (as cited earlier) suggests that this symbolism involves the unfortunate phenomenon of dishonest solicitations. A seed has the potential capacity to yield many stalks of grain. If every seed produced what it theoretically could, every tiny handful of seeds would yield huge amounts of grain. However, as we know, many, if not most, seeds are simply absorbed into the ground without ever producing grain. Analogously, given the widespread phenomenon of unscrupulous beggars collecting when not in need, much of the charity one gives does not achieve the intended result - helping the needy. Nevertheless, just as one plants many seeds in order to ensure at least partial success, so are we encouraged to contribute to charity even with the knowledge that not every dollar will in fact serve the interests of the poor.

It seems that Rav Gantzfried did not have access to another Midrash, in the Midrash Ha-gadol, which explicitly provides a far more straightforward basis for the association between charity and planting: "Rabbi Eliezer said, charity is likened to a seed. Just as with a seed - a person plants a single kernel and harvests an entire heap of grain, similarly, one who gives a coin to a poor person - the Almighty supplies him with several coins."

This Midrash teaches us that a seemingly simple and relatively insignificant kind gesture can have far-reaching effects well beyond what we may have expected. Taking this Midrash on the most literal level, a modest loan can often mean financial rescue, either by allowing for a profitable investment or by saving the lender from further interest payments. But even more generally, a kind word, a sincere piece of advice, a timely invitation, a small favor - all these often mean more to the recipient that what meets the eye. Kindness is about planting tiny seeds and hoping that the conditions are right for them to grow into something much larger.

*****

Parashat Toledot concludes with Yaakov's flight from home to escape from his brother, Esav. Chazal, in Masekhet Megila, write that before proceeding immediately to Charan, as planned, Yaakov stopped over for a fourteen-year stay at the yeshiva of Shem and Ever. The Gemara adds that Yaakov was punished for the twenty-two years spent away from home through the grief he experienced over his son, Yosef, for twenty-two years. However, the Gemara notes, Yaakov actually spent thirty-six years away from his parents, not twenty-two. From here the Gemara deduces the principle that "the study of Torah is greater than honoring parents"; Yaakov was not punished for the fourteen years of study at the yeshiva.

We can only wonder, why was Yaakov punished for the fourteen years spent earning his wives' hands in marriage? As we will read next week, Yaakov worked seven years for Rachel, only to receive Leah. Lavan then had him work another seven years for Rachel. As Yaakov spent these fourteen years working towards the fulfillment of the obligation of "peru u-revu" (procreation), should not these years have also been deducted from his punishment period? Why was he spared punishment only for the years spent learning Torah?

The Chatam Sofer (Shut Chatam Sofer, C.M. 9) explains that Yaakov was punished for having brought about a situation by which he had to leave home in order to marry. Had he never seized his father's blessing from Esav, he would have never had to escape. Presumably, then, his marriage would have been arranged much like his parents' was: Yitzchak would have sent a servant to bring one of Lavan's daughters to Canaan to marry Yaakov. Learning in yeshiva, however, could not, by definition, take place at home. In any event Yaakov would have had to leave home to study. He was therefore only punished for the years he could have spent at home if not for the incident of the blessings.

Though the Chatam Sofer here does not elaborate on this point, he appears to indicate that Yaakov was punished, in effect, for having tricked his brother out of his blessings, which then necessitated his escape from home. This follows several other indications in rabbinic literature criticizing Yaakov for his devious behavior (see Nechama Leibowitz's Studies for other sources to this effect). While we can readily understand Chazal's condemnation of dishonesty, we must ask, did not Yaakov act only at the behest of his mother? Did he not at first refuse, agreeing to the scheme only after his mother's insistence? Furthermore, Haketav Ve-hakabbala (as cited by Professor Leibowitz, ibid.) points to several indications in the text that even when Yaakov finally acquiesces, he approaches his father hesitantly and ambivalently. Why, then, should Yaakov had been punished?

Perhaps, then, we must add the following, complex analysis to the Chatam Sofer's theory. Indeed, Yaakov here simply obeyed Rivka's command to disguise himself as Esav. As such, he is not to be blamed for having to flee from home and spend many years away from his parents. The situation changes, however, after his fourteen years of work in exchange for his wives. As we will read in Parashat Vayetze, after this term of service Yaakov continues working for Lavan for another seven years - during which period he amassed an enormous fortune, despite the fact that he was then free to return home. Perhaps, in Chazal's view, this slight show of disrespect retroactively called into question the entire episode of the blessings. Now that Yaakov had demonstrated a degree of laxity in his honor for his parents, the claim that he stole the blessings simply out of unwavering obedience to his mother loses its support. In retrospect, then, Yaakov can now be held accountable for the entire sequence of events that forced his departure from Canaan.

Of course, all discussions concerning the flaws and errors of our righteous patriarchs must bear the standard disclaimer that the Almighty judges the righteous with "hairbreadth's precision," holding them accountable for even the slightest wrongs. Here the slight flaw was perhaps Yaakov's inconsistency, obeying Rivka's order to trick his father but failing to return home to see them as soon as the opportunity arose to do so.

*****

Yesterday we saw Chazal's comment criticizing Yaakov Avinu for having stayed away from his parents for twenty-two years after fleeing from his brother, Esav. God punished Yaakov for this disrespect through the suffering he later experienced during the 22-year absence of his beloved son, Yosef. Chazal note, however, that the twenty-two years Yaakov spent studying in yeshiva did not count towards his punishment. Since "the study of Torah is greater than honoring parents," Yaakov was not punished for the time spent in yeshiva.

The question, though, arises (especially in light of the Chatam Sofer's analysis mentioned yesterday), did Yaakov have to leave home in order to study? After all, since age thirteen he is described as a "tent dweller," interpreted by many as a reference to his diligent Torah study ("tent" referring to "the tents of Torah"). If he could have studied at home for so many years, why could he have not studied at home after Esav's threat subsided?

This passage by Chazal thus brings to mind the mishna in Pirkei Avot (4:14) admonishing one to "exile to a place of Torah." The mishna stipulates no conditions in this regard. Irrespective of the level of scholarship in one's hometown or even his own family, an aspiring young scholar must take to the road ago elsewhere to study Torah. Yaakov is therefore not punished for his time spent in yeshiva; eventu, he would have had to "exile" to a place of Torah, anyway.

The question, of course, is, why is this so? Would Yaakov have sacrificed his academic standards or quality of education by learning an extra fourteen years with his father, Yitzchak, as he had done until this point? Wherein lies the unique, inherent significance of "leaving home" to study Torah?

In an insightful passage, the Tiferet Yisrael, in his commentary to the aforementioned mishna, lists three reasons for the requirement to "exile" oneself from home to learn Torah. Firstly, upon reaching adulthood one must detach himself from the childish hobbies with which he occupied himself and the friends with whom he played during his youth. This becomes exceedingly difficult so long as he remains in his hometown surrounded by the childish delights of his youth. Secondly, the Tiferet Yisrael writes quite succinctly, "In his parents' home one will always remain a child." The natural tendency of a parent is to treat his child with the same tenderness he received during childhood, which may easily impede the child's growth into a mature, independent and accomplished adult. Finally, one exerts himself with greater effort when encountering freedom and independence. Under the watchful eye of his parents, one naturally accustoms himself to proper behavior. Upon leaving home, however, in a setting where no one scrutinizes him or has specific expectations from him, the individual must invest himself with added vigor to do what he knows is right. This independence is essential for one's growth process. For all these reasons, and perhaps more, Chazal bid students to spend time learning Torah away from home, such that they can maximize the experience and actualize their spiritual potential to the fullest.

*****

The Torah introduces the chapter of Yitzchak's blessings to his children by recording Yitzchak's loss of vision: "When Yitzchak was old and his eyes were too dim to see, he called his older son Esav… " (27:1). On one level, this information is necessary for us to understand how Yaakov managed to trick his father and disguise himself as Esav. However, the Abarbanel interprets this verse as the basis for not only Yitzchak's inability to identify the recipient of his blessing, but also his preference of Esav over Yaakov. Simply put, Yitzchak's "vision," or judgment, was blinded by his love for Esav. (Raboteinu Ba'alei Ha-Tosafot explain similarly.) The Abarbanel felt compelled to explain the verse in this manner because of the immediately preceding verse, which records Yitzchak's response to Esav's marriage to Hittite woman: "They were a source of bitterness to Yitzchak and Rivka" (26:35). After his disappointment upon seeing Esav marry a Canaanite woman, how could Yitzchak then immediately prepare to give him a special blessing? Abarbanel therefore explains that Yitzchak was simply blinded.

Though the Abarbanel bases this clouded judgment on Yitzchak's love and affection for his favorite son, one well known Midrash in Bereishit Rabba may give rise to a different approach. The Midrash relates that when Yitzchak sat bound upon the altar as his father Avraham prepared to slaughter him in fulfillment of God's command, the heavenly angels began crying. Their tears descended straight into Yitzchak's eyes, causing the onset of blindness as he reached old age. A slightly different version appears in other sources (the Riva - one of the Tosafists - , for example, cites this version from the Pesikta), by which Yitzchak simply looked straight through the heavens to the Divine Throne, causing him eventual blindness. What does all this mean?

Perhaps the Midrash points to the akeida episode as the ultimate expression of absolute truth and sincerity. It represents the most extreme ideal of performing God's will without allowing any external considerations to interfere. Not only did God's command at the akeida require both father and son to overcome man's most basic and natural feelings (in Yitzchak's case, self preservation; in Avraham's, a parent's affection for his child), but it also contradicted every possible line of reasoning and defied the most elementary common sense. The fulfillment of this command thus reflected the pinnacle of obedience - performing God's will and setting aside all questions and other considerations.

This ideal of truth, perhaps, allowed Esav to mislead his father and earn his affection and respect. As we know, Chazal claim that Esav intentionally fooled his father into believing that he meticulously observed detailed mitzvot and faithfully adhered to the legacy of Avraham. This duplicity runs in diametric opposition the Yitzchak's quality of truth expressed atop Mount Moriah as he was bound upon the altar. The image of Yitzchak gazing straight to the Divine Throne perhaps refers to his ability to see only what is right and ignore everything external. He could not conceive of trickery and deceit. Thus, it was the experience of the akeida that "blinded" his judgment concerning his son and led him to attempt to bestow a special blessing upon Esav.

*****

Undoubtedly, the most troubling feature of Parashat Toledot is Yitzchak's decision to afford Esav a special blessing. How could he have selected Esav over Yaakov? Needless to say, several different approaches have been offered by commentators throughout the centuries. Yesterday we looked at the Abarbanel's theory, that Yitzchak's judgment was clouded by his love and affection for Esav. Others, however, refuse to accept the fact that Yitzchak was misled into making such a grave error. They have therefore come up with other explanations as to what Yitzchak had in mind.

One such explanation is offered by the Netziv. Whether one takes his approach as "peshat" (the primary reading of the text) or "derash" (homiletic interpretation), his insightful comments on this incident mark an important contribution to the rich literature that exists concerning this most fascinating story. The Netziv claims that the value of "gemilut chasadim," of performing kindness to others, clearly and unquestionably exists among all people, not only within Benei Yisrael. However, a basic distinction exists between the nature of kindness in our nation and that performed by other peoples. For us, chesed belongs to the broader framework of Torah and mitzvot, our religious obligations. Our kindness towards others is prompted not only by the natural, universal ethic of helping people, but also by the divine command. Just as we observe Shabbat and kashrut and eat matza on Pesach, so do we make an effort to assist those in need. Other nations, however, follow the path of kindness as a universal, instinctive value, unrelated to theology. While God rewards both forms of kindness, this reward differs from one to the next. Other nations are rewarded "be-derekh ha-teva," through natural means. God, the supreme Ruler over the natural order, manipulates nature in such a way to grant blessing to those deserving and punish those worthy of such. Am Yisrael, however, work by a different system. We follow the Torah, given to us directly by the Almighty, and therefore our reward operates outside the limited framework of the natural order. Just as the Torah is supernatural, so is God's relationship to us when we follow the Torah.

The Netziv argues, as do many others (e.g. the Radak and Malbim, unlike the Ramban, Abarbanel and others), that Yitzchak never intended to name Esav his successor as the perpetuator of the covenant of Avraham. That Yaakov would follow Yitzchak as patriarch of God's special nation was never in question. However, Yitzchak, out of his love for Esav, wished to bestow upon him a special blessing of prosperity and success within the natural order. He wished him reward for the chesed he performs even though it does not involve any religious awareness or bear any spiritual quality. Rivka, however, wanted this blessing for Yaakov. She foresaw that there will be times - the Netziv points in particto the period of the wicked king Achav - when Benei Yisrael would abandon the Torah but still maintain high moral and ethical standards. She wanted to ensurthat even during such periods Benei Yisrael would earn reward, albeit from within the natural framework. Indeed, during the time of Achav the Northern Kingdom resorted to idolatry but worked harmoniously together to create a just and socially stable society. Sure enough, the kingdom enjoyed almost unprecedented peace and prosperity. This guarantee of "natural reward" resulted from Yitzchak's blessing to Yaakov, assuring us rewards for our ethical behavior even during our spiritually dark periods.

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