Toldot

An amazing thing: the Torah, which uses few words, first tells us that Yitzchak is the son of Avraham, and then, explaining the genealogy, says: Avraham fathered Yitzchak. Why repeat oneself like this? It seems clear as it is.

Abarbanel, one of the medieval commentators, says: “We see in Yitzchak's genealogy that he is the son of Avraham. He resembles Avraham. Avraham took a wife when he was forty years old (this is not written in plain text, it is derived by calculation), and Yitzchak took a wife when he was forty years old (and this really is written). Avraham took a wife from his own family, and Yitzchak took a wife from his own family. Both of them had barren wives. Avraham first fathered (well, let's say it in quotation marks) a ‘wrong son,’ Yishmael, and only then fathered Yitzchak. And to Yitzchak, too, there was first born a ‘good-for-nothing,’ let's put it that way, Esav, and then – Yaakov. Avraham loved the good-for-nothing Yishmael, and Yitzchak loved the good-for-nothing Esav. But against his will, Avraham sent Yishmael away from the inheritance at Sara's insistence; Yitzchak, against his will, also not without the involvement of his wife, deprived Esav of the blessing. In both cases it was, of course, God's will and God's plan that was being carried out. And in the days of Yitzchak, and in the days of Avraham there was a famine, both of them went to Gerar, both of them dug wells… Very much that is similar! And one can see that Avraham fathered Yitzchak, Yitzchak repeats his biography. People are similar not only outwardly, and it is not only DNA that passes on similarity. This is what the Torah tells us here: Yitzchak takes after his father entirely. That, actually, is what this verse wants to say.

We talked in the previous conversation about why the Torah reminds us several times that Rivka is an Aramean, that her family are Arameans, although she herself is not very much an Aramean. Her family is assimilated, but she preserved herself from assimilation, but that is another conversation.

And here one can ask another question. The generations of Yitzchak, the biography of Yitzchak… If you were Yitzchak's biographer, if I were Yitzchak's biographer, I would not begin with the wedding. I would begin with the miraculous birth or with the family abuse, when Yishmael bullied him. Apparently, it was painful. Today a person can live his whole life with these traumas and go from psychologist to psychologist. The sacrifice, the most radical event, the most unusual event in the history of Israel. Why does the Torah begin precisely with the wedding?

Rabbi RaYaTz gives an amazing answer to this: “This is to teach you that the daily, everyday changing of the world is more important than the sacrifice.” Everyday service, when mom gets up for the child, when dad goes shopping; when dad gets up for the child, and mom goes shopping; when dad washes the dishes, when mom cleans up, when we talk with each other… Occupying ourselves with daily, everyday chores, changing the everyday, routine, seemingly boring reality, we are occupied with a matter more important than the akedá, because the akedá is a heroic feat, it is an unusual event, but God created the world and wants to manifest Himself in the ordinary world. Therefore the sifting of small things, the small, fine sifting of the world, the separating of the bad from the good in little things is much more important than the akedá. Therefore the Torah begins the life of Yitzchak with Yitzchak's marriage.

Now, the word vaye'tár can be taken apart. This word is connected with the root ayin-tav-reish, and it means a pitchfork, with which hay is sorted through and turned over. If translated literally, Yitzchak climbed up to heaven, went out to prayer with a pitchfork, climbed up to heaven to dig around, to turn over judgments, to cancel verdicts, to change reality with his prayer up above, and it is said: and the Most High turned over for him. Here one and the same word is used both in the prayer and in the answer. Yitzchak tried to turn over, and the Most High turned over according to his word. And this is an answer for people – yes, there is effective prayer, which is meant for change in the higher worlds, in the worlds where the future is prepared, and one can climb up there with a pitchfork. But this is purely symbolic, because, in reality, it is the Most High who turns over. And in this case Yitzchak apparently needed twenty years of prayer for Rivka to become pregnant.

Here it must be said that Rivka herself does not know that these are sons, that it is sons racing around in her belly. From her point of view, something is happening in her belly. How does the Torah usually describe births? And she conceived, and gave birth (vattahár veteléd). Here, unexpectedly, between conceived and gave birth there are two whole verses, a whole chain of events. Rivka felt something bad in her belly. Her mother is far away, her mother-in-law has died; perhaps, having asked around among women, as one would say now, having gone around the “mommy” forums, she found no answer.

…and she said: if so, why is this me?

The phrase is very unclear, there are mystical commentaries on it, connected with the God of this world, the God of the world to come. We will not go into that now. Let us look at the simple phrase of a simple woman. It can mean: “Why me, nobody has had this, why me, why is this happening to me?” And in the other case: “And what am I doing? What am I doing sitting here, thinking, guessing, going around the ‘mommy’ forums? I will turn to the Most High.” And she went to ask the Most High. That is, the first option – she said: “Why me?” Well, and with this question she went to the Most High. And the second option – she said: “Why am I being so slow, I need to go to the Most High with the question. Maybe it is not ‘why?’, maybe it is ‘what for?’, maybe something else.” In any case, Rivka's decision is that, when a situation is not under control, when something is not happening the way one wants, one must stand before the Most High, think less, ask the Most High more.

…and she went to inquire of the Most High.

The commentators come to the idea that she went to a place that had long been regarded by Avraham, in Avraham's family, as a place of communion with the Most High. This is the well El Chai Ro'i, where the angel spoke with Hagar. We see that almost fifty years after this conversation, many years later, Yitzchak, at the time of his wedding, the forty-year-old Yitzchak, returns from El Chai Ro'i, where he had gone out to pray. Apparently, one can suppose that Avraham's family had such a place of prayer, and Rivka went there to pray. But this is not even what matters. What matters is that here for the first time we see a person, after her own reflections, turn to the Most High with a question. Before this we saw that people made wishes to the Most High: if it is like this, then like that, or Yitzchak, as we see now, who prayed with a pitchfork for his wife... Here is a woman, Rivka, the first in Avraham's household, the first fruit of Avraham's upbringing, who with her inner dialogue, with her inner problems comes to the Most High.

We do not know what it was she went to ask. Perhaps she asked: “What is in my belly, is there any danger to my pregnancy, is there any danger to my life?” And also a question that is not obvious: “Are my children not sick?” Well, and all the rest. Possibly even: “Am I not possessed by some unclean spirit.” It is hard to imagine what could have been in the head of a woman of that time. But the LORD answers her and says:

…two nations are in your womb, and two peoples will separate from your insides (will separate from your womb, in essence, two nations) …

Literally – me'áyim; but, when the Torah says bétel – belly, kerváim – insides, me'áyim – intestines, one need not understand that those who read the Torah believed that babies come out of the intestines. No, this is simply a description of the insides.

…one will prevail over the other, and the elder the younger will serve (we will still sort this out).

In history, as the Most High predicts, two nations will constantly quarrel, compete for the kingdom.

In the book of the prophet Yechezkel (26:5) this is described very well. Tyre says of Jerusalem: “It is broken, it is the gate of the people, it turns to me, I will be filled, it is laid waste. When I am filled, it is laid waste. Well, correspondingly, the other way round, when it is filled, I am laid waste.” There is such an interconnection: now Rome rules, now Israel rules. But we will see that the rule of Israel, the revealing of the glory of Israel – comes after the revealing of the glory of Esav.

There are difficulties with the last part of the prophecy. Literally it sounds – and the elder the younger will serve. One can understand: and the elder will be served by the younger, or, the other way round, and the elder will serve the younger. Here one can object: but if the younger will serve the elder, then why would one even speak such a prophecy, that is usually how it happens anyway. But precisely in Jewish history it happens in different ways, and we see that the younger becomes the elder, the last become first, and it is a miracle, on the contrary, when this does not happen. And therefore there is such an understanding with regard to what is said further in the chapter, that Rivka understood that Esav must not receive the blessing, knowing this very prophecy, that the elder will serve the younger. And Yitzchak perhaps also knew this prophecy from Rivka's words, but tried to interpret it differently, moved by love for Esav. Well, we are only just getting to know these guys.

So, possibly, this prophecy could be interpreted in two ways, and subsequently Rivka and Yitzchak interpreted it in two ways.

For those times, this is important, when a woman is pregnant with twins, and such a difficult pregnancy, that she did not give birth to them in the seventh month or in the eighth month. She carried them to term, the little guys were born full-term, which means God guarded her pregnancy.

…and behold, twins in her womb, in her belly.

The word tomím is written here with a mistake. It would be more correct to write tav-álef-vav-mem-mem. Here the little letter álef is missing. The Torah does not make grammatical mistakes, but often leaves out some letter when it is a matter of some imperfection. And here it is said: yes, outwardly they are tomím, outwardly they are twins, but inwardly this “twinness” will not necessarily be like that. And outwardly, too, they will later diverge, there is no wholeness, because one, on the whole, will turn aside onto bad paths, the other will go the righteous path.

Other commentators say that the word tomím here must be understood as the word tumím (from the word tam – fully perfect). One is a perfect righteous man, the other a perfect villain. But let us not slander Esav as a perfect villain. We know that he has a place in God's plan.

It is interesting to look at the word tomá (twin): this, strictly speaking, is the name Foma, a well-known Greek, Russian name. Foma is a word meaning twin. The thing is that the little letter tav was not always pronounced like this. One can say that at a certain stage it was pronounced close to the English tee-aitch (th), and therefore Toma became Foma. So here – two Fomas in her belly.

Ruddy, hairy, lively, ripe – these are all not very bad qualities, even, one can say, good ones. Out came such a lively little fellow, a chubby little one, already with a head of hair, and therefore they called him Esav. The word Esav, one can say, on the one hand – made, from the word la'asót; asáv – this is also his deeds, his actions – we will touch on these meanings of the name later. Another meaning is connected with the word ésev – overgrown with grass, a little lawn, one can translate it so. And again, we know that midrashim can be typological, and where Esav turns in the midrashim into a perfect villain, they say: Esav is asá sháv (made in vain). Well, where is a person to go who is called by such a name? An empty shell. Go and live with that. If that is what they named him, then what complaints can there be? Well, this is more midrash, retroactively. The Torah again uses a play on words, and the oral Torah too, in order to show, to point to certain qualities.

As we have already said, he married at forty, the children were born at sixty, twenty years of prayer brought such fruit.

Yaakov was born, who held on to Esav's heel, and the name Yaakov was given to him. From the fact that Yaakov holds on to Esav's heel, they derive, as a prophecy, that the rule of Yaakov will come after the rule of Esav, that the rule of Yaakov is in the world to come. Yaakov can be translated from the word akév – heel; there is the word impediment, and here the word postpediment. Yaakov is the one who grabs from behind by the heel.

There is a reflection on who gave him such a name, since it is said: and his name was called Yaakov. And when Esav, outraged over the stolen bracha (blessing), reproaches his father, he says: “Not for nothing was his name called Yaakov.” He does not say: “You named him Yaakov,” but: “Not for nothing was his name called Yaakov” – and here he intercepted me, and here he swindled me, one can put it that way. That is, the commentators see in this (and, indeed, one can see in this) that the name Yaakov was given to him prophetically by the Most High.

They tell that when a myrtle tree is planted next to a thorn bush, at first they cannot be told apart. There is such a tree, very similar to the myrtle, and at first you cannot see who is who. When the trees grow up, the myrtle gives its fragrance, well, and the thorn bush gives its thorns. When the children grew up, it became clear who is who. And who is who?

עֵשָׂו אִישׁ יֹדֵעַ צַיִד אִישׁ שָׂדֶה וְיַעֲקֹב אִישׁ תָּם יֹשֵׁב אֹהָלִים׃
esáv ish yodéya tzáyid ish sadé veyaakóv ish tám yoshév ohalím

…Esav – a man of knowledge of hunting, a man who is a specialist in hunting, a man of the field, and Yaakov – a simple man, sitting in tents.

Again, when the commentators come up against those sitting in tents, and when we create some bright image of Yaakov, they say: “He sat in the tents of Torah.” Here, most likely, the simple meaning says nothing about the tents of Torah, but says that Yaakov was a simple shepherd, this is less complicated work than a hunter, who must go out somewhere onto foreign, neutral land and conquer the world, in essence, catch animals where there is no explicit, open human authority.

And Yitzchak came to love, one can translate, Esav, and Rivka loves Yaakov. Yitzchak came to love Esav because he had game in his mouth. Came to love, that is, he did not love at first, but began to love. Game in the mouth – the commentators see in this that Esav was not only a good hunter, but also a smooth-talking fellow, a good manipulator, a good orator, he knew how to make an impression.

Some commentators give this example, and this midrash is met often, so I want to take it apart. Esav would come and ask Yitzchak clever questions: how to separate the tithe from hay and salt. And, of course, when a person comes and asks such complicated questions, then – look what he even thinks about, look what a profound fellow. Yitzchak liked this. Well, actually, what is bad about it, if a person really is so filled with love for God that he wants to separate the tithe even from his salt? We really do not know how to separate the tithe from salt, how to separate the tithe from hay. What is the separation of the tithe anyway, in the biblical understanding, when we speak about vegetables, fruits, about the produce of the land of Israel? When we separate the tithe from the fruits that we have grown, the fruits are divided into the holy and the everyday. We eat the everyday, the holy is eaten in the holy. But our fruits have contact with holiness through the tithe, through the tithe we join them to holiness. And here is Esav, who wants to join both straw to holiness, and salt. And we say that he is a hunter, he also out there, beyond the borders of the settled world, rules all the time… Here, it would seem, is a person who will carry the good news, will carry Yitzchak's good news into the world: Esav, he even wants to join salt to holiness! But the problem is that, when they answered him: “We do not yet know how to separate the tithe from salt, and from straw we do not know how to do it.” Then Esav says: “Well, then I will not separate the tithe at all.” If it is impossible to join the whole world to holiness, then nothing at all can be joined to holiness. This is one of Esav's spiritual problems.

One can find Esav in oneself, when a person says: “All – or nothing! If I cannot keep absolutely all-all-all the commandments, then I will not keep them at all. If I cannot carry out all-all-all the points of some undertaking, I will not take it on at all!” All or nothing – this very rarely works as a good quality, more often as a bad one.

Well, this is the question about Esav, and Rivka loves Yaakov. Why does she love Yaakov? Well, first, because Yaakov is such a homebody boy, and because she heard the prophecy from the mouth of the Most High.

We will reread the story of the lentil stew and the sold birthright.

The first word – cooked up – is used in Hebrew with exactly the same multiple meanings as in Russian. One can say: who cooked up this business, who started all this? The word to cook is used considerably more often in the culinary sense.

Yaakov got a ragout going. Why did he get this going, why did Yaakov suddenly go up to the pot? There are different answers to this question. First of all the simplest one, the one that suggests itself: a ragout of lentils (we will learn later that it is of lentils) – a sort of bachelor's food. Even in a rich house, full of plenty, there is a kind of fast food. Lentil stew, lentil ragout with a small amount of fried onion or garlic, olive oil, lentils and boiling water – a typical “Rollton” of that time. Yaakov could simply be eating fast food while busy with some business of his own.

Other commentators say (and we will understand later why this is important) that lentils are a sign of mourning. Little orange lentils resemble human faces, only they have no mouth. And for a person in mourning a stew of lentils was prepared as a symbol of a kind of silence; this is a silence that can be eaten, a silence of grief that can be eaten. Many do not understand this, but such was the symbolism in those times.

One more interesting version is offered by the book “Zohar.” It says that Yaakov knew that Esav would fall for lentil stew, he found the string of his soul, for that is precisely why Esav is called edóm – red or red-haired. And, as he will later do with the sticks in Lavan's house, in exactly the same cunning way Yaakov catches Esav here.

So these are the three explanations that exist. Closer to me is the explanation that Yaakov was simply cooking, he felt like having lentil stew, why shouldn't he make it. We will still talk about the other explanations.

…and Esav came from the field; and he was tired.

Again, there are numerous commentaries. The commentators of the Torah and the midrashim very much love to scold Esav, it is, one could say, a national sport – to say bad things about Esav. And the commentators say: “On this day he committed murder and raped a betrothed girl, he committed five crimes, and he committed two crimes – in short, he was tired from sin, from having sinned deliberately and persistently all day.”

Other commentators say: “A person who went hunting can get lost for several days, lose his way, walk three or four days without a road, without food, without water, and then you get tired whether you like it or not.” Esav is an honest hunter, he grows up in Yitzchak's house; and simply a person went hunting, got lost, wandered around and got tired. On the whole, a natural thing.

There are commentators who, accepting all this, see one more layer. Esav is tired in life. There is a category of people who are tired of life, they are fed up with everything and they like nothing, and because of this people often fall into sin, into fornication, into some such depraved adventures; and then the deeds, the sins of Esav can be understood allegorically. Esav is a person tired in life.

From all these commentaries, again, I would choose the simplest, the most obvious one: Esav got lost, wandered around, hunted all day, and he came home tired. No mysticism.

Here it is not very clear. Did Yaakov really from that time on start teasing him and saying: “Red, red.” And as if the people around started teasing him, because Yaakov told everyone this story. It does not very much befit Yaakov, such a deed does not do him much credit.

But one can understand this text differently too. Esav was tired, therefore he had no strength to figure out what was in front of him – oatmeal porridge or crème brûlée – and he simply said “red, red,” so as not to recall what it is actually called; not to say – give me this nazíd, give me this ragout. In his vocabulary, from exhaustion, there were no such words, because he was so tired that he did not even care about the name of the stew. Here the situation is understandable: a tired person came home, there his younger brother is cooking, and the younger brother has certain obligations toward the older one. And the older brother, from tiredness, says to him: “Feed me, revive me with this stew.”

It seems like a not very good deed, instead of feeding his own brother. And who will not feed a hungry brother who came from the field, even if he is a villain, even if one recalls how it sometimes happens between brothers, that older brothers oppressed the younger ones? And where were you brought up, comrade Yaakov, do you really not know that one must respect elders, even older brothers, feed the hungry, feed the poor? Why have you suddenly started talking somehow so strangely? For the commentators this is a very serious and important question. And some say that since Esav is asking as in childhood (Esav fed little Yaakov with a little spoon – such are the obligations of an older brother toward a younger one), and if Esav places on Yaakov the role of the big brother who looks after the younger one, then the birthright can also be sold.

Another option says that part of the conversation remained off-screen. Esav asked: “So how come we've got lentil stew today?” To which Yaakov answered: “This is a mourning stew for the death of Avraham.” And Esav says: “What? Avraham died?! This man, this great righteous man, a man who served God all his life, who was ready to offer our father as a sacrifice, he died?! Well, then I have no chance at all, how could I compete with him in righteousness? Why do I need the birthright at all and why do I need life?” And look what is written in the previous verse: “I am tired as it is.” One can understand it this way too, and then Yaakov said: “Well, sell me the birthright, since you are so tired.”

But, most likely, Yaakov is simply trying to talk with Esav when he is tired, when he is more inclined to sell the birthright, and this change of roles that we spoke about possibly spurs him on to it. We cannot say that a person always acts sincerely and one hundred percent honestly. With Yaakov it happens in different ways, there is a certain nimbleness or shrewdness here in our Forefather. But he offers an honest deal – sell me today your birthright. What does Esav answer him?

This can be understood in the light of what we told about that line which speaks about the mourning for Avraham: “If Avraham died and he has no chance, then I too am going to die, and why at all this birthright with its service to the Most High, with all its merits and drawbacks. Even if we speak about the firstborn receiving a greater share of the house, then why do I need it? I am a hunter, I go to death every day, I will die anyway, and why accumulate riches, if you will die anyway, why do I need the birthright?”

But one can also understand it this way: “I go to death every day, I am a hunter, I have such a job. The birthright, with its necessity to manage the family budget, to be a priest, to be responsible for the family, for everyone – that is not mine, I am a free shooter, ‘not a stake and not a yard, but no taxes paid to the king.’ I will live like this, and why do I need the birthright?” – so Esav reasoned.

He swore, because a birthright is generally hard to sell, and there must be a clear formulation: I transfer to you, I give you my birthright. Usually an oath is made before a court, in the presence of witnesses, because it is, on the whole, easy to wriggle out of an oath. But in Yaakov's family there is God's Name, there is knowledge of God, there is the understanding that there, all the time, in each of them Avraham and Yitzchak are present – both in Yaakov and in Esav. And each of them is a kind of traveling court, therefore Esav boldly swears and transfers his birthright to Yaakov. There will still be disputes about this later on, but not in this passage of ours.

Here it becomes clear that the stew was of lentils after all. Why was it not said right away? Because we were being shown the world a little through Esav's eyes too. Pay attention that Yaakov gives Esav bread as well, so that it would not be said that he used a danger to life in order to complete the deal and only sustain life. Yaakov gives more than Esav asked for. Some commentators see here a festive feast, the making of a covenant, that is, a kind of image of the breaking of bread, saying also that, if the bread and the stew were the work of Yaakov's hands, and only he could give them, then the wine Esav could go and take from the household's little cellar. And therefore many see in this also the making of a covenant, the concluding of an agreement, which is done over bread and wine. But not everywhere and not always can this be understood so.

…and he ate, and came around, and got up, and went, and Esav despised his birthright.

Here it is described in very short spurts: vayochal – and he ate, vayésht – and came around, vayákom – and got up, vayelách – and went, vayívez – and despised. The word buz means considered shameful, considered worthless, considered something that can be thrown away to others.

Let us read once more: and he ate, and perked up, and got up, and went and Esav despised his birthright. Having already eaten and come to himself – and he got up, and went, and, having regained his strength, Esav all the same disregarded his birthright. There is no kind of outcry from him like: “What have I done and why did I act like this?” No, he has no particular regret about what happened.

One of the commentators, Ibn Ezra, says that Esav despised the birthright because by the moment when this took place, Yitzchak's family had become completely impoverished, there is no inheritance there to divide.

This is what Ibn Ezra says. He disregarded this birthright, because he saw that his father had no rich inheritance. Many are puzzled about this: “How could such a thing be? After all, Avraham left Yitzchak a rich inheritance.” But have those who are puzzled never seen people who were rich in their youth and were ruined by old age? This is attested by the fact that Yitzchak loved Esav, because he needed his food. If there had been plenty of bread in his father's house, then Esav, who respected him, would not have sold the birthright for a dish. If his father had eaten tasty delicacies every day, then what is the sense of what was said: “Hunt game for me”? And why did Yaakov not have beautiful clothes, and why did his mother not give him gold and silver for the road, so that he had to say: “And God will give me bread to eat, and a garment for clothing”? Why did the loving mother not send him means of subsistence, so that he had to guard the flock? And the verse in which it is said about Yitzchak – “and this man became great (26:13)” – refers to the time when he had not yet grown old. People with a blind heart suppose that wealth is one of the virtues of a righteous man. However, the story of the prophet Eliyahu proves the opposite. Or they ask: “Why did the Most High deprive Yitzchak of property?” Perhaps they will rather answer why He deprived him of sight? And let them not slip us midrashim in which, in reality, a secret is hidden, for the designs of the Most High are unfathomable and the human mind is not able to grasp them. Others said: “But he did have livestock, after all Rivka said: ‘Go now to the flock.’” Possibly, a small amount of livestock remained with him. Or perhaps the interpretation is correct that by go to the flock was meant to go to a place where there is a flock, that is, to where livestock is sold.

And Ibn Ezra here cites the common opinion that Esav, living by material interests, did not see material interests in Yitzchak's property, because Yitzchak by that time was ruined. Whether Yitzchak was ruined – that is a separate story. The sense here is that for Esav the birthright is a material thing; since there is no material advantage here at all, it is better to eat today, better the lentil stew in the pot than a doubtful inheritance in the future. In this way Esav is made a person only of this world, belonging only to this world.

But there are those who, naturally, object regarding Yitzchak, and this is a long dispute. When we examine the blessing and Yaakov's way to Charan, we will talk about this more. For now let us leave open the question of Yitzchak's wealth or poverty. Esav considered the birthright not worth anything, considered it not worth anything at all, because lentil stew is the cheapest thing there can be. It is like selling a house out of spite for a box of matches; these are incomparable values. Esav got rid of the birthright, and the point is not so much the lentil stew.

That is the kind of story that happened. More questions branch off from it, to which the Torah will give answers later on. Not always is everything clear at the end of a chapter.

We are beginning, you and I, to read chapter 26 of the book of Bereshit.

 The word millevád – here one can say an even stronger famine than in the days of Avraham. We remember, we read, that at the very beginning of his communion with the Most High, as soon as Avraham found himself in the Holy Land, there was a famine, and Avraham went down to Egypt. In our case Yitzchak goes onto the road to Egypt. He goes to a king whose kingdom is located on the road to Egypt.

Avimélech – this is most likely not a proper name, but, possibly, the title of the Philistine king. My father is king, that is, my God is king or I am king by the power of God – this is how one can translate, interpret this name in this case. So, he is king of the Plishtim. But these are not the same Plishtim who will come later, in the era of the Judges, these are other Plishtim. Plishtim are those who break into a land, from the word liflosh – to attack, to break in. This is some people that associates itself with such an attack, with conquest, and it lives in the land of Canaan. And Yitzchak comes to Grar to Avimelech with the aim, most likely, of going down further to Egypt.

There are many different words to denote living somewhere. Shchón – this is be a neighbor, live as a good neighbor in the land in which I will dwell. From this same word comes the word shachén (neighbor); and from it too – the word shechiná (the divine presence, God's being a neighbor with us). That is, the Most High said to Yitzchak: “You do not need to go down to Egypt; be, live as a neighbor in the land of which I will tell you.” In this case Grar is meant here. Why does the Most High tell Yitzchak not to go down to Egypt? It turns out that of all the Patriarchs – Avraham, Yitzchak, Yaakov – only Yitzchak, he is the only one who never left the land of Canaan. Yitzchak is a permanent resident of Canaan, a permanent resident of the Holy Land. How can this be interpreted? Having once been raised onto the altar, Yitzchak is consecrated for the altar. Even if he was taken down from the altar, even if the sacrifice was not offered – his body is consecrated, he is entirely consecrated and can no longer go down, the status of his service cannot change. Therefore he remains in the land of Israel and has a special blessing for this. The Most High says to him:

If shchón – this is live as a good neighbor, we read, then here gur – temporary dwelling; reside, reside in this land. And all this, all these states that are around here, and the kings – all this will belong to you and to your seed.

The fifth verse of our chapter is very important. Many take it and use it to prove these or those positions of theirs. Why does the Most High tell Yitzchak that He will bless him and by his seed all the nations will be blessed? We read:

 And these several categories (guarded the guard, commandments, laws and teachings) many try to break down in their own way. Basically, most commentators come to the conclusion that Avraham observed even the slightest decrees of the rabbis and in the smallest details also observed the oral Torah and observed everything, everything, everything.

 The most ancient breakdown of this list says that shamár mishmartí (stood on guard) – this means he guarded himself against idolatry. Here there is a reference to the incident when Avraham cut apart, smashed, according to tradition, the idols in his father's house. Although this is a tradition, it is a fairly ancient tradition, it is mentioned in books as early as before the 1st century CE. Mitzvotáy (this is said in the Torah) – the commandments to establish courts and to judge with the judgment of truth. Chukkotáy – these are the laws, connected with circumcision. Torotay – this is the teaching that Avraham carried into the world. That is, Avraham was not simply a bearer of the teaching, he was the one who passed it on, who spread it. And therefore, through the totality of all this, the nations of the world can be blessed by the seed of Avraham.

A later approach says that Avraham observed the Torah proper. He observed it, but what light was there from this for the surrounding nations? Such an objection exists against this commentary. Although this commentary, of course, also has a right to exist, very authoritative people expressed such a point of view, that the Forefathers observed the whole Torah together with the ordinances of the rabbis. This view began to be developed by Pharisaism in the period from the 2nd–4th centuries CE, after the destruction of the Temple, when it was necessary to strengthen the positions of the Oral Torah against the positions first of the Samaritans, and then also of other people who did not recognize the authority of the Oral Torah and in some way disputed the Pharisees. In a word, this interpretation, it is meant to defend and confirm the authority of Orthodox Judaism in the form in which it has come down to our days. To say that the interpretation is wrong – one cannot, but such questions about it do exist.

 And we read here, interestingly, a third verb denoting residence: yeshév means settled dwelling. Having heard all this, Yitzchak decided: well, all right, I will live in Gerar, all this land will be given to me anyway.

Again we see the same problem in the way Avraham's family perceives those who do not belong to Avraham's family. Again Yitzchak has a large degree of distrust toward the people around him. He does not believe that they simply will not kill him for Rivka, he does not believe that Avimelech has any fear of God.

 Yitzchak metzachék – one could say, Yitzchak “yitzchaks” his wife, Yitzchak is playing with his wife. Apparently, the king of Gerar saw something unlike what happens between a brother and a sister. He saw some caresses, or some tender touches, he saw something that made it clear: this is not about a brother and a sister. And, naturally, he got frightened. Note, here, unlike in the previous stories, nobody took Rivka away, nobody made an attempt on her. There is no Pharaoh here, and the king does not exercise his power either.

Does Avimelech have fear of God? Of course he does. Avimelech says: “What have you done? With your suspicions you brought it about that someone among us could have fallen into sin. You cared about your own life, but what about us, what about our condition?” And then, taking into account all the subtlety of Yitzchak's feelings and all the complexity of the situation that had arisen, Avimelech does this:

That is, since you are so fearful, since you are so afraid, I am putting out a special law: “And whoever touches this man or his wife shall die by death.” Yitzchak stays on to live in Avimelech's country.

That is, everything Yitzchak sowed, he got back that year a hundredfold, he multiplied it, so to speak, a hundred times. And the LORD blessed him. And this despite the fact that we are talking, generally speaking, about years of famine.

They began to say: “Some man comes onto our land, into our country. We, it seems, gave him shelter. And he, it seems, is quietly sowing. Maybe he did not get the best lands, but everything goes well for him, he has everything. And what about us? And with us ‘the crocodile won't get caught, the coconut won't grow.’ We have no such blessing as Yitzchak has!” And this arouses envy, and envy is a terrible feeling which, as the sages say, drives a person out, evicts a person from this world.

 Wells are places for public use. A well is a good thing, an irreplaceable place in the desert. On the one hand, one can come up and drink some water. But it is also a place where the owners can hold public events: a sort of charitable well, one can hand out brochures there, one can do something else of that kind there. And, naturally, these wells, each of the wells, is a victory of man over the desert. If this is Avraham's doing, then it also keeps the memory of Avraham. There are commentators who understand and interpret what is happening on the level of rémez, through a hint. They say that the people who used to drop in at Avraham's tent in their time, who were congregants of Avraham's community, stopped going there when the wells were filled in, when they were closed up with dust.

Perhaps Yitzchak represents a danger economically, because this is a very successful project, people are watching. Well, and besides that, in light of what we have said, perhaps ideologically too. Why is it that everything goes well for Yitzchak, but for Avimelech not so much?

 Vayíchan – another interesting word for denoting a place of residence: Yitzchak went a little bit further to the southeast and stopped there.

We will reread the passage that tells how our Forefather Yitzchak dug wells, and his neighbors, the Plishtim (Plishtim), kept him from doing it.

The word sat (yasháv) means sat in the literal sense, sat in order to study something, that is, he settled down comfortably and lived a settled life. There is the word lagúr – to live somewhere temporarily, and there is the word lashévet – to live somewhere for a long time. So, Yitzchak settled down in a certain area.

…and he dug up again the wells of water that had been dug in the days of his father, Avraham, and the Plishtim had stopped them up, filled them in, the Plishtim, after the death of Avraham; and he called them by names (them – that is, the wells) like the names by which his father, Avraham, had called them.

Much is unclear right away. Such a well-known commentator on the Torah as Nachmanides immediately asks the question: why does the Torah tell us all this? Digging wells is, in general, a digger's work, not exactly work worthy of glory. Many people earn their living by it; a hard, worthy, respected craft. But why tell about it as if it were some great event? Out of all the events over hundreds of years the Torah chooses the most important, and, naturally, the question arises: what is so important here?

Another question that arises: where did the Plishtim come from here? The Plishtim appeared in the land of Israel much later, in the time of the Judges, already after the Egyptian captivity, one could say, several centuries later. Those Plishtim built themselves cities by the sea, they did not speak a Semitic language, and they had segens (military leaders), they had no unified monarchic system. Here we see that the Plishtim have a king, that they are shepherds, and that they, judging by their names, speak a Semitic language.

And what don't they say, whichever commentators, whichever researchers! There are people who approach the Torah critically, and for them it is immediately clear that the Jews made all this up, and that whoever wrote it did not know history. But one can say that the Plishtim are, in general, newcomers, invaders, “infiltrators,” if you translate the word leflosh, literally, and that there were many peoples who were called that. Strangely enough, our present-day neighbors, the Palestinians, also chose such a name for themselves, although they, of course, have nothing to do either with the Plishtim in the time of Avraham or with the Plishtim in the time of David. Quite by chance it turned out to be a permanent name, a challenge red banner passed on among the enemies of Israel in the land of Israel.

We remember that Avraham, too, already had disputes with Avimelech over wells. Avraham then brought seven lambs and said that this was a symbol that he had not touched Avimelech's well, and on that they made peace. This is how Be'er-Sheva came about. The dispute over water, over wells as sources of life, between the Jews and the Plishtim is passed on from one to the next. And one of the qualities of the ivrim in the land is to open up wells. Yitzchak digs out the wells which his father dug and which the Plishtim buried. And, as we said, Nachmanides and many other commentators do not understand why do this. And when the commentators do not understand something, they shift direct events into some allegorical key. We will now follow Nachmanides' line of thought, and then we will still try to find out what the simple meaning of what is happening is, why Yitzchak does all this.

This is no longer the restoration of the wells that Avraham made, these are already new wells. Yitzchak continues Avraham's work, continues digging wells. But no such luck.

For example, when a person, taking advantage of another's distress, hires him for work and pays him little money, does not pay him the whole sum or something else, this is called óshek. Judging by the fact that Yitzchak gave a name to this well, he did, after all, hold on to the well. So, the first well we are talking about is named Óshek.

And copied himself – from the word to relocate, connected with the root ótek (copying”, a copy). The name of the city of Rechovot in Israel exists to this day. Pay attention: rechovót – hirchív from one and the same root.

So, we return to the thought of Nachmanides (or Ramban), who says: “Apparently, there is no simple meaning in this matter; and, since digging wells is not such a great occupation, there is some secret here.” What secret is there here? And Ramban says: “Since water is living and a well in general is connected with the Torah (it is not hard to give examples of this in Scripture), one can compare the three wells with the three Temples.”

The First Temple – Óshek (offense) – was destroyed because of internal strife, when people divided up the land, divided up property; injustice in the division of the country. The fall of the Temple began with Israel splitting apart, and only afterwards did idolatry arise, and everything else, but it all began with property disputes in Israel.

The Second Temple was destroyed because of baseless hatred. Simply offense, simply villainy in its pure form, or Sitná.

And the Third Temple, which will be, it will at last be spaciousness. Do you remember the prayer of Zcharya, when Yochanan the Immerser (the Baptist) was born? Zcharya said: “Now we will be allowed to serve the Most High without fear, now we will receive spaciousness.” The messianic expectation is connected with the expectation of spaciousness in service, of freedom in the service of the Most High, freedom both from the oppression of the nations, and from sin, and from everything. And here is the word Rechovót. Ramban brings this with regard to the Third Temple. He says: “These three wells symbolize the three Temples.”

Other commentators say that the three wells are connected with the three festivals of the month of Tishrei. The first, the second day of Rosh haShana, when there are accusations, and when there is reproof, and when there is an examination of a person's dealings with property, and when a judgment against a person opens up above – these are the first two wells. The third well (Rechovot) is Yom Kippur, when a person comes and there is no longer any accusation against him, the court no longer hears the accusing side. The next will be the well Be'er-Sheva, the well of living water (we will still talk about it), it symbolizes Sukkot, about which it is said: “Draw the waters in holiness.”

Such are the mystical commentaries. And although mystical commentaries are in general a good thing, one also needs to understand the simple meaning of the Torah, the simple meaning of what is written, and we will certainly take it apart.

After one video, I will tell you by the way, a comment like this appeared: “And how are you not ashamed to tell people that all these events really happened. It is the 21st century, it is time to study the science of Kabbalah.” Well, the science of Kabbalah, as we know, was invented in the 21st century, and Kabbalah itself we have studied, but we will not occupy ourselves with it. And indeed, our task is to speak about the fact that the Torah has a simple, ordinary meaning. We try to take apart this simple meaning in order to move on from there to new depths of understanding.

So, there are such mystical, supernatural interpretations, but we will continue a little and try to talk about why Yitzchak does all this at all.

After Yitzchak digs three wells, the LORD appears to him in Be'er-Shava and says: “I am with you, I will bless you for the sake of Avraham.” Yitzchak continues Avraham's work.

One can understand the medieval commentators, who wrote what they wrote. I live in the city of Be'er-Sheva, which is spoken of here, which ceased to exist many centuries ago. When the Jews returned in the time of Turkish rule, around 1917 the city of Be'er-Sheva was restored, built again. And it was given the name Be'er-Sheva. In exactly the same way the cities of Tel Aviv, Bnei Brak, Rechavot, the settlement of Ishtamoa, Susiya, Galilean Bet Lechem and so on were restored. The Jews were returning to the land, and they gave the cities that they built on the site of the old cities the names of the old cities. We are not new people in this land, we are continuing. It is very hard to be a pioneer, but a pioneer has fire, enthusiasm, he is full of strength, he burns. To be a second-pioneer is much harder. It is much easier to dig wells than to dig out wells that have been filled in.

Yitzchak is famous for being the first continuer of the work, he is the first son of believing parents, the second generation of believers, the second generation of revolutionaries. The “Zohar,” also a mystical book, says that from the moment the plishtim filled in the wells, from that moment all the proselytes, the majority of the proselytes whom Avraham had converted, stopped believing. This is, of course, mysticism, but one can imagine Avraham as a very active person: he dug wells. And, speaking in modern language, flyers, brochures were handed out by the wells; a well is a center where a person will come, after all, everyone wants water; everyone wanted to drink, to water the livestock – and here, right next to you, Torah lessons are held, lectures on the weekly portion, here they will hand you brochures, and, if needed, even do a circumcision. A very good place for service – a well, a point that everyone comes to. And one can quite well suppose that Avraham, as a man of action, used wells for service, for community work. We have already said in this portion that people went out to the well, the well was such a meeting place of a person with the spiritual nature. In general, very many meetings in the Torah happen at a well. A well is a very significant and symbolic place. Digging out the wells, Yitzchak the second-pioneer takes up the baton from Avraham even where it was unsuccessful, and gives the old names to these same wells, restores, in essence, Avraham's work. And therefore the Most High turns, comes and blesses Yitzchak, renews, once more proclaims the blessing to Yitzchak for the sake of the servant Avraham; that is, Yitzchak is blessed by the fact that he continues Avraham's work. It is easy to begin new projects, to burn with new ideas. It is much harder to live and to show service in some everyday life. We ourselves often have to dig out wells in ourselves, getting up for prayer every day, occupying ourselves with the children every day, doing some daily routine work, being second-pioneers, third-pioneers, fourth-pioneers... This is sometimes harder than being pioneers, a truly difficult task.

And from the moment Yitzchak continues with the wells, there is a shift in the relationship with the Philistines.

The word fichól, if one reads it as a Semitic root, will mean pi – many times, multiply by and kol – multiply by everything. If one says: pishtáyim – twice, then pichól – all times over; that is, pichól can be translated as a sort of coolest of all, such a name for a person.    

And so these three comrades – the king, the minister of agriculture and the minister of defense – came with a delegation to Yitzchak, who had just been driven out of Gerar. A sharp change of status, which happened, actually, because of what? Because of persistent, consistent work.

When a covenant is made, people usually say: such and such will happen to you if you do something evil to us. But sometimes this is not named, so that one understands that it will be, well, very, very bad, we do not even want to say what: such and such will happen to you if you do evil to us, when we did not touch you.

That is, a public delegation comes, and it says this thing to Yitzchak: “We, let's put it this way, were a bit hot-headed in driving you out. Let us make a covenant between us: we, as it were, let you go in peace and do you no evil, and you also do not touch us, do not wage war with us and behave peacefully.” Apparently, the plishtim feared some actions on Yitzchak's part. But most likely this is not a covenant of security. They want to have friendship, to have an alliance with Yitzchak. Pay attention: in the word brít (alliance), as in the word brachá (blessing), the first two letters are bet-rei. bet-reish is a root that means joining with something. The plishtim are saying, as it were: “Through this alliance with a man blessed by God, we join ourselves to the one who is blessed by God, by making a peace treaty with him, and thereby we will have a share of the blessings. And so, you are blessed by God.”

Yitzchak's persistence, his consistency broke the plishtim: as many as three people came to Yitzchak, a powerful political delegation, and persuaded him to make a peace treaty, peace from a position of strength. How interestingly history repeats itself: today too we have a war with those who call themselves “Palestinians,” including a war over water.

And after this, after Yitzchak made a covenant with the plishtim (and this is one more aspect), the people of Israel, potentially in Yitzchak, began to give, to open living water to the world. He made a covenant by which the whole world too has the opportunity, in the person of the Philistines, the first foreign people, to connect, to join, to put its lips to this water. And this is the result of Yitzchak's labor and of the blessing of the Most High.

Here an attentive reader may ask: “Wait, wait, but even earlier, back in the times of Avraham, wasn't this city already called Be'er-Sheva?” Not quite right – it was called Be'er-Shava, from the seven. Although seven in Hebrew is also shéva, still in word combinations the vowel points change a little; and there it was the Well of Seven, and here it is in the full sense the Well of the Oath, although there too it was connected with an oath. Such is this small linguistic snag.

What is this parable about? If one does not go into mysticism – about constant, persistent work, about passing the baton, about the fact that one must not only be a pioneer, one must have a second, third, fourth generation of those who will serve; about those who came to restore the land of Israel (it is even amazing to think what generation they were). The Torah tells that when the Most High led out – after Miryam died – led the people out to the well, there where Aharon and Moshe struck the rock, an amazing word is said there: “the well dug by princes, the nobles of the people dug it with their staffs.” This is the text of the Torah. Midrash Rabba asks the question: “How then did they dig it with staffs?” And the midrash says: “This is by the merit of Avraham, as it is written in the psalm: ‘He opened up the rock, and water poured out, it flowed like a river through the desert, for He remembered his holy covenant with Avraham, his servant.’”

One of the sides of the covenant: we dig – God gives water. We dig in the desert, there where, it would seem, there is no water – the Most High gives water. Appearing among those nations, in those lands where there is no Torah, where, it would seem, God is not known, if you are a disciple of Avraham, then dig, and there will be water.

There is one more amazing place about the connection of wells with the Torah, of wells with service. This is the book of the prophet Yirmeyahu (2:13): “For your people have done two evils. Me, the Source of living water, they have forsaken, and hewn out for themselves broken cisterns, which cannot hold water.” Besides the fact that one can make a well and look for water under the ground, water that rises up from under the ground, one can make a pit and collect rainwater there. It will, of course, go away through the ground, soak into the ground, it will deteriorate. A pit is also a way of collecting water, but a very bad way. And the Most High says: “They have forgotten Me, they stopped using the wells of living water.” Not only for the nations of the world, not only for others must one constantly dig, but in oneself too one must constantly dig a well, so that there will be living water.

Ahead of us is the story of how Yitzchak wanted to bless his sons. It often happens that a story changes its meaning depending on which verse, which place one begins to read it from. If we begin to read from the very beginning of chapter 27, from the fact that Yitzchak grew old, our story will turn into a description of how the wife and the younger son of an old man deceived him and his older son, and all of this will be a story about deception.

If, however, we begin to read two verses earlier, with the account of Esav's marriage, then we will see a story that begins with Esav's marriage and ends with Esav's marriage. What results is a sort of symmetrical narrative, in which there is a blessing, there is an attempt at deception, but it is not about that at all.

Different commentators, depending on what they want to say to their readers, to their students, comment on this place in different ways. We will begin in a non-classical way: we will begin with the end of chapter 26, with verse 34, with the account of Esav's marriage. Why is this fitting? We once again see the word vayhí (and it was) as the beginning of some story. With this word, as with the words once upon a time there lived, a story may quite well begin. So,

That is, at forty Esav decided to marry according to the traditions of his ancestors and took himself two wives, both Hittite women, both from among the locals. This is not quite according to tradition, and Scripture says further:

They were mórat rúach – bitterness of spirit or oppression of spirit. The word mórat may come from the word mor – bitterness, or from the word morá – fear. Here there is oneness of spirit, in the literal sense, between Yitzchak and Rivka, they both dislike Esav's Hittite wives.

The word kehe means to darken or to grow dim. In the ancient world people believed that the eyes see by sending out a ray toward an object and catching the reflected ray, that is, the eyes see because they themselves shine. Hebrew was formed by the notions of the people, and therefore dark, darkened eyes are “half-gone-blind” eyes.

…and called his son Esav, his older son, and said to him: “sonny!” and he said to him: “here I am!”

Here begins a parallel that will develop beneath the surface, a parallel with the story of the sacrifice of Yitzchak. We will see this now.

The word sa means bring up, lift up; telyechá – tools, the word kli – any tool, not necessarily a weapon.

This dialogue (in the Torah a very frequent story) takes place in changing scenes of two people each: two participants speak with each other, others find out about it, there is a chain of connections between these scenes. There are two participants and the reader, who is the one watching all this. Here we have scene one – Esav and his father, but there is also a third, invisible person.

Pay attention, this is, actually, her son too, and one could have said – bna, to her son or bnam, to their son; but the Torah says that Yitzchak addresses Esav, his own son, thereby speaking about the close relationship that exists between Esav and Yitzchak. Esav knows what kind of meat daddy likes, what spices to put in, and we will see here several more times how subtly Esav and Yitzchak are connected.

And Rivka retells to Yaakov what Yitzchak said to Esav. And, pay attention, she retells it not very accurately.

If we look at what Yitzchak said, we will see that he said: “Hunt me some game”; here – “bring.” Bring can mean – “if you can't get it, bring it from the flock.” “Make me yummies” – Rivka does not add to this “the way I like,” because how would Yaakov know the way he likes it. She wants to convince him that the task is simple. “And I will eat” – here Yitzchak said: “Catch it and bring it, and I will eat”; but Rivka, since she has already said bring, cannot repeat bring a second time. If you are making something up, if you are twisting something around, you have to do it smoothly or, speaking in scientific language, coherently. Rivka does it smoothly, and therefore she does not say bring a second time; this is the third change to Yitzchak's words. “And I will bless you before the LORD” – now, Yitzchak did not mention the LORD, but this way, firstly, it is more convincing for Yaakov, secondly, it is more convincing for Rivka herself that she is doing the right thing, that this will be before the LORD.

Four changes in a few words. Pay attention to how Rivka knows how to pass on words so as to get her way. And further Rivka says:

The last two words metzavvá otách (I command you) put Yaakov in a position where his mother has commanded him, and it is already a matter of honoring parents, it is not so easy to refuse.

Let us pay attention to the expression gedayé izzím, when the word gedayé is used with regard to boiling a kid in its mother's milk. Where did the interpretation come from that a kid can be any young animal? From the fact that here it says “young of a goat,” they allow that these could be other young animals, otherwise she would have said simply: shtéy gdaím (two kids). There is no such thing as kids of a goat, one cannot say two kids of a goat. That, at any rate, is how the commentators understand it.

The way he likes – this is the part of the work that Rivka takes on herself. She did not tell Yaakov that he had to do it the way he likes, we remember that she changed the words.

The question arises: isn't two kids a lot for elderly grandpa Yitzchak? Some commentators say: “It was Pesach, and one kid is a prefiguration, a prefiguration of the Pesach offering.” There are different opinions on this, but one can say that the kids were, if these were the young of a goat, the tastiest, they are fairly small and, perhaps, were prepared not only for Yitzchak himself, which is why two kids come up here. And further Rivka goes on to say what needs to be done:

What will Yaakov say now? “God forbid! Why deceive daddy? Let's not act this way.” No, he does not say this. He says this to her:

…here, my brother, Esav, is a hairy man, and I am a smooth man.

Why does he say it this way? Well, you cannot accuse mommy and say: “Mom, you are a deceiver.” There is also respect for one's mother, and here, one could say, Yaakov is trying to run between the raindrops. He does not want to offend his mom, he apparently does not much like this whole scheme. Rivka, we see, commands him, and he tries to object.

The word lita'atéa means to dupe, to bewitch, perhaps, to create a mirage; ta'atúa – this is mirage in modern Hebrew.

That is, if my father finds out that I am a deceiver, he will curse me and not bless me.

kach-lí

13. And his mother said to him: “let your curse be on me; but you listen, and go, and take for me, go and take goats for me.”

Let your curse be on me can mean two things. The first – if you are cursed, then I will bear this curse. The second – I will deal with the question of the curse. The first – one can say: “I was only carrying out mom's order, and therefore, as it were, the mother whom you gave me, she told me, and I did it” (the case with Adam). Well, and the second option – Rivka will say: “It is all my fault, I take the curses upon myself, I will bear the curse of my son.” We will see that there are still other options.

Often such sequential expressions are used when a person does something decisively, without much wanting to, and does it without thinking. Very often this occurs in the memoirs of soldiers who end up in a difficult situation. He does not have I thought, but – I got up, ran, I crouched, I fell, I lay low… There is no reflection here, there is some kind of automatism of the body, which acts. This is both in a good sense and in a not very good sense. Here Yaakov went, took, brought, that is, without particular desire he did what was needed, and brought it to his mother.

…and his mother made yummies, the way his father likes.

Let us reread: “And Rivka took the garments, the festive garments of her elder son, in which he went about at home, and put them on the younger son.” From this we conclude, and the sages conclude, that Esav had special, festive clothing in which he went about at home. Many people have a nice little jacket, a tailcoat for going out; Esav had a tailcoat for coming in. Therefore they say that Esav, supposedly, very much loved and honored his parents. Many commentators say that one can learn respect for parents from Esav; others say that Esav is a hypocrite. We will not go into this, but here is what we will go into: Rivka dresses Yaakov as if he were little.

And she also stuck little pieces of goat skin with hair onto him.

She dressed him, plastered him with hair and handed him, foisted on him, a tray, and on the tray – the yummies she had made for Yitzchak, and bread. Where did the bread come from here? It is clear that Yitzchak, who had lived with Rivka a long time, would certainly recognize Rivka's bread. The significance of the bread is that, seeing the bread, if the whole affair comes to light, it will be clear to Yitzchak that Rivka is mixed up in this, and perhaps the curse will pass Yaakov by and fall on Rivka, because it will be seen that, here, she is involved in this affair. Or perhaps Yitzchak will restrain himself and will not curse anyone.

There is also a parallel with the fact that at one time Esav asked Yaakov, when he came hungry (this was in this same portion), for lentil stew and Yaakov gave him bread as a bonus. In the family there is such a tradition – to add bread to what is served. Thus, there can be several explanations of why bread appears here.

This is the only time in the whole conversation, by the way, when Yaakov calls Yitzchak aví (my father), unlike Esav, who later will many times say precisely aví. Either because Yaakov and Yitzchak do not have such a good relationship, or because, having disguised himself, he is embarrassed and ashamed, being in someone else's guise, to call Yitzchak father.

Thus ends the story of preparing Yaakov and inserting him into the house, into Yitzchak's tent, in the guise of Esav, the whole story with the disguises. Next will be the story with the blessings and their absence, it is no less interesting.

We will read the story of how Yaakov and Esav went in to their father Yitzchak for a blessing. So, Rivka equipped Yaakov, dressed him in Esav's festive clothes, stuck little goat skins on him so that he would be hairy to the touch, and gave him a tray with all sorts of tasty things and with bread for Yitzchak. And in this state verse 18 of chapter 27 finds Yaakov.

Why does he ask? Whom was he expecting? Or rather, whom was he not expecting? Esav had gone off for game and, apparently, by Yitzchak's reckoning, should not have come back yet. That is why the question is like this – who are you, son?

There are many interpretations, actually, but we are reading the pshat and trying to understand precisely the simple meaning; and the mystical interpretations, they exist, and I do not want to argue with them in the least, it is just that our task is the analysis of the simple meaning.

Many commentators, naturally, do not like this. There are midrashim that are called archetypal. Yaakov, on the one hand, by the pshat (by the simple meaning) is simply Yaakov, Yitzchak's son, simply a person. In the archetypal world, in the world where everything has a symbolic meaning, Yaakov is Israel; and it is the whole Jewish people that stole the blessing. Therefore, in disputes with opponents one has to bring midrashim and interpretations that justify Yaakov. So in the Christian world midrashim were born that say that Yaakov did not lie here. To the question who are you? he answered: “It is I. Esav, your firstborn.” That is, he said two separate phrases. Well, of course, this is drash, and by the simple meaning Yaakov banally and crudely deceives his father and says – anochí esáv bechorécha (I am Esav, your firstborn).

I have done as you told me. If you remember, Yitzchak does not know that someone else heard his conversation with Esav, and therefore the very fact that the boy who is in front of him knows is already, as it were, good proof that he is Esav; plus, he did what he was told.

And we can see here what parallel there is between this and the story of the sacrifice of Yitzchak. The Most High turns to Avraham and says: “Get up, take your son, go and offer him to me as a sacrifice.” A command similar in the structure of its speech Yitzchak gives to Esav: “Get up, take your bow, take your quiver and bring me game.” And there is a question – what is this game, where did the game come from, where will the game come from? And the answer: the LORD provided the game. For a reader of the Torah this is a good, clear parallel: Yitzchak is in the same situation, he is again being kept in ignorance, using the omniscience of the Most High. This is symbolic.

A whole number of commentators say: “Since Yaakov said Adonái Elohécha, Yitzchak suspected something was wrong.” In the eyes of these commentators Esav is a non-believing person, and he does not mention God's name so easily. Yaakov, by saying Adonái Elohécha, by saying the LORD your God, gave himself away. But we know from the same commentators that Esav went and asked Yitzchak wise questions, and how can it be that, whatever kind of son grows up in Yitzchak's house, he would not mention God's name?

Why, then, did Yitzchak doubt? If, again, we look precisely at the simple meaning, we will see further on: every time Esav addresses his father, he adds aví. He ends every sentence with the word dad, father, with him father is mentioned every other word. Yaakov speaks less courteously, and perhaps it is precisely this that causes doubt in Yitzchak.

This saying, by the way, is used in Hebrew today. When someone does something with someone else's hands, we can say: “The hands of Levan, the voice of Eran” or something even more specific.

Yitzchak hears one thing, perceives another by touch. What does he decide? He goes with what he perceived by touch.

He has not blessed him yet, but has already decided to bless him, that is, he understood that he would now bless him. And he asked once more:

Here Yitzchak is already seeking confirmation of what he himself has become convinced of.

Notice, as we said in the previous case, with the sale of the birthright, there may have been wine. Here we definitely see that there is bread and wine at the blessing of Yaakov, although Yitzchak thinks that he is blessing Esav.

The field… We remember that Yitzchak, when he meets Rivka, goes out into the field. The field is Yitzchak's place of prayer, the place of his meditation, the place of his reflections, of meeting with the Most High. Esav's scent is like the scent of the field, the scent of Yitzchak's youth, his young years, his communion with the Most High, the meeting with Rivka… Romance, and not only that. And Yitzchak blesses him and says:

This is a blessing that the land, the land of Israel, will bear fruit (ha'áretz – this is the land of Israel), will bear fruit for Esav, but in essence it is Yaakov who receives this blessing.

The neighboring tribes will serve Esav, this is what Yitzchak means, but it turns out – Yaakov. It is interesting that the phrase ya'avduchá ammím is used as a joking form of thank you, when people thank a person, they say to him (they might say it for a glass of tea that was served): ya'avduchá ammím. We simply recall the blessing that was received.

Such is the blessing, such is the bracha Yitzchak gave. He thought that he was giving it to Esav, but he gave it to Yaakov.

And this is not the blessing of Avraham, as Rivka perhaps expected when she said: “He will bless before the LORD.” The essence of the blessing – Yitzchak wanted to bless the family, the firstborn to lead the family. In exactly the same way Yaakov before his death will bless Yehuda and will also say: “Your brothers will bow down to you.” Brothers will bow down means you will lead the brothers, but this does not place him over all the brothers.

That is, Yitzchak gives Yaakov, first, the blessing of the land, second, political leadership, foreign policy – this is ammím (peoples) and le'ummím (nations), and leadership of the chamula (family) – this is being in charge in the family, domestic policy. Such is the blessing. And the blessing that orerécha arúr – the one who wars with you will be cursed, and umvarechécha barúch – the one who blesses, who joins you, will be blessed. Those who will be in alliance, at peace with you, will be blessed; those who will war with you will be cursed. That is the blessing.

There are very many mystical and deep commentaries on this. Again, I do not argue with them and in no way do I underestimate them. It is just that here we are analyzing the pshat (or the simple meaning of what is written).

Well, what does this resemble? It resembles the birth, when Esav came out first. Now the situation changes, and Yaakov came out first. Yaakov got ahead of Esav. There is one more parallel, a more ancient one: two brothers, Kayin and Hevel. Kayin is a hunter, Hevel is a farmer; Hevel receives the blessing, in essence, his sacrifice is accepted, Kayin does not receive it. That led back then to fratricide, and here, well, what can one say, here there is a very similar situation.

Pay attention: your son, your firstborn, twice he addresses his father. Esav constantly reminds him that Yitzchak is his dad, he talks with his father in a completely different way.

Gradually Yitzchak understands that a great misfortune for him has happened here, that someone came. Well, who came? Yaakov came, that is already clear. But he did say: “The one who blesses you – is blessed, and the one who curses you will be cursed.” And he can no longer change it. One cannot take back, rewind the bracha, and therefore he says: “And he too will be blessed.” Already when he found out that it was Yaakov, Yitzchak still says: “And he too will be blessed.”

This is very strange. And we need to try to understand why Yitzchak cannot bless Esav too, why he has no blessing left?

The word yaakóv – is shrewd, nimble. It is often translated as cunning, I too just said outwitted, but it is not quite cunning, it is rather precisely shrewdness, worldly practicality, the ability to succeed, to hold on to the heel, dexterity, let's say.

Yitzchak does not want to say what he is about to say now:

Pay attention that Yitzchak also changes the order, and he begins with what is most important for Esav, and says: “I gave all his brothers to him in servitude and set him as a chief over you.” This is how the blessing ended, and it began with the grapes and the grain. But here Yitzchak changes it – he goes from the terrible to the less terrible when he retells the blessing. It is always worth paying attention to the details in retellings, they say a lot. Yitzchak said: “I did this, and this, and this. So what should I change now?”

A warrior, a hunter, a fighting, fit guy, ready to survive in the forest for a long time – and suddenly he wept. A father's heart will break when he hears such a thing.

This can be translated in different ways – mishmanné, but there is this little letter mi (from) at the beginning of the word, and one can translate it (and, probably, it is right to translate it so here) as far from.

Oh, a hard word to translate, taríd. Some say that it is from the word méret (when you rebel), but grammatically this is not very correct. Others say that it is from the word to weep – when you howl, when you cry out. Still others say: when you leave, when you “roam off,” when you leave this land. We will translate, most likely, according to the third option – when you leave.

And this was told to Rivka, they reported this to Rivka. Who reported it, then, if Esav said this in his heart? The commentators say: “How does Rivka know all this, hear everything? She prays a lot, and she prophetically senses what is happening both between husband and son, and in the heart of the son.” In any case, here we read: what Esav planned in his heart, Rivka knows, and it has been reported to her. Both are her children, she worries about both, worries that they may now kill each other off. And it is not that Yaakov was necessarily afraid of Esav (maybe he is even stronger), but to kill a brother and to be killed by a brother – neither the one nor the other is a very good prospect.

Pay attention to the root shuv, which returns again and again.

Yaakov hears her, but, unlike the last time, he does not react. We do not hear, we do not see Yaakov's response to Rivka telling him to run away. Yaakov does not want to run away, it does not befit the founder of a nation to run. But Rivka does not lose heart, and she comes to Yitzchak. And do you remember how it all began? It all began with Esav taking Hittite women as wives. And here she says: “If our Yasha marries a goya, it means my life has been a failure.”

Having had no success in the conversation with Yaakov, Rivka turns to Yitzchak, and, it would seem, here is a scene where for the first time we can see that Yitzchak and Rivka talked with each other. But we do not see that they talked. Yitzchak hears her, but we do not hear an answer, we do not hear a dialogue between Yitzchak and Rivka.

At the beginning of chapter 28 we read:

And by this moment we know that the first blessing was intended for Esav, but Yaakov received it. The second blessing, which, generally speaking, is not really even a blessing, – Esav received it; he received what had actually been intended for Yaakov. Now Yitzchak speaks purposefully, specifically to Yaakov.

And commanded him – we remember, in the first case Rivka commands, and Yaakov carries it out; in the second case she says listen, and Yaakov does not listen. Now Yitzchak comes, and he commands:

Here is to whom the blessing of Avraham is given, and moreover it was not intended for Esav; Yitzchak gives it to Yaakov: “You are going away to a foreign land, but God Shaddai will give you and your seed this land to inherit.”

Why the mother of Yaakov and Esav is mentioned here, we will talk about at the beginning of the next portion.

Look at what is happening. Instead of running, running by night in short dashes from his brother's wrath, Yaakov officially receives an ambassador's letter of credence. He is going to get married, his daddy sent him, he is not running from anyone, with his head held high he goes to Padan-Aram, to his grandpa, to his nieces, to get married. That is how well everything turned out.

In the next portion we will talk about why it turned out that Yaakov left without a single penny of money, and he does not even have bread and clothing for the road.

Remember what it all started with? Both of them, Yitzchak and Rivka, did not like it that Esav married Hittite women (26:35). And here we see that this was displeasing to both the mother and the father (in verse 7). And Esav understood that this is unpleasant for his father, that this is painful for his father, and then Esav tries, perhaps, to do something good.

And Yishmael is also a relative, also, the sons of Yishmael are also nephews of Yitzchak.

Machalát – this means sickly or one who sends diseases. Sometimes children are named this way – sick, or old, or little fly – in order, according to the superstition, to drive away evil spirits. In the sense that if an evil spirit knows that the girl is called Old Lady or Little Fly, then why would it go after her, she has been wronged enough as it is.

Esav made himself such a line of descent that will, perhaps, bother Yitzchak and Rivka less. Esav, too, generally speaking, began to think about something.

In the previous talk (26:34) we began precisely with the wedding, with Esav's marriage, and here it ends again with Esav's marriage, and Yaakov goes away to get married. Actually, this is what determines the division in the family of the Fathers. It could have turned out that Esav and Yaakov would both be parts of the people, but now they are temporarily divided. And the essence of it all is not so much the stolen blessing, not so much that Yaakov here is a negative hero (although, of course, one can view the stolen blessing in all sorts of ways); but there is also the story of Esav's marriage to local women, his attempts to mix with other peoples.

With God's help, today you and I will talk about a father's love and about the attitude toward it over the course of many centuries. In Bereshit (25:28) we read:

So, let us first try to give different variants of translations and understandings of this verse. It is clear that Yitzchak loved Esav ki-tzáyid befív, one could say, because Esav brings game in his teeth, because he is a provider. To bring game in one's teeth is a kind of metaphor. Esav is a provider. He is, one could say, a person successful in the world, he prospers. He can bring game. And for this Yitzchak loves him.

Another version of tzáyid befív is game in the mouth, in the mouth of Yitzchak himself. That is, Esav brings game. Yitzchak likes to eat game. And for the tasty food obtained for the table, Yitzchak loves him. There are several more different understandings, we will talk about them.

verivká ohévet et-yaakóv – this is clear, Rivka loves Yaakov.

The commentators (and the commentators are those who have read the Torah to the end and know what a villain Esav is. And have even read the prophets, where it says: “Esav I hated”) ask how such a thing could happen, that Yitzchak loves Esav.

Some commentators say: “But nothing special happened. You simply understand the text of the Torah wrongly. Or the text of the Torah has to be understood from a different angle.” For example, Rabbi David Kimchi writes this: “It does not even need to be said that he loved Yaakov.” That is, for the Torah it is clear, in the opinion of Rabbi David Kimchi, that Yitzchak loves Yaakov. “And Yaakov he loved more, and Esav he loved only for the game which he hunted.” That is, Yitzchak loves Yaakov more. It goes without saying that he loves Yaakov more, because Yaakov is righteous, because he lives in tents, because he, actually, inherits the whole tradition of the family. But Yitzchak also loves Esav too, because he obtains game. That is, Yitzchak has room, by virtue of his righteousness or by virtue of some culinary attachment of his, there is room to love Esav as well. And Rivka, who perhaps is not so righteous, perhaps more righteous, on the contrary, who does not have such a passion for game, she loves Yaakov. Rabbi Sforno thinks roughly the same way and says: “And Esav too he loved, although, without doubt, he knew that he was not as whole as Yaakov.”

That is, what do these commentators say? Of course, he loved Yaakov more, but in Esav too he found something to love, because Yitzchak is righteous, and Esav is his son, after all. And therefore one need not be surprised that the Torah here speaks of Yitzchak's love for Esav.

Why is it hard to agree with the view of these respected commentators? Because, it seems, the Torah after all contrasts Yitzchak and Rivka here and says that Yitzchak loves Esav, it is Esav he loves more, and Rivka loves Yaakov.

There is another opinion, which says that Yitzchak, by virtue of being a bookworm, a saint, by virtue of his eyesight having weakened or by virtue of something else, is a kind of simpleton. And Esav is a hunter, game is in his mouth. And with his mouth he ensnares Yitzchak. Esav walks, wanders around the gates of the yeshivas, around the gates of those places where the Law is studied. He listens, listens, listens and asks questions, in order to look clever and holy in daddy's eyes. As an example that is given, he asked his father: “And how does one separate the tithe from salt? And how does one separate the tithe from hay?” He asked such clever questions in order to seem holy, and formed an impression of himself as a righteous man. And, in the opinion of the commentators, Yitzchak perceived this image as a loving father and therefore loved Esav the deceiver.

And other commentators say that Yitzchak saw Esav's success, his business acumen, the grip of a businessman. By the way, as a man who had spent his time in studying the Torah, in reflections and prayers, he loved this worldly business acumen and admired it. But on Rivka, who came from a different environment, this made no impression. So, there is an explanation, Yitzchak loves Esav because Yitzchak is a bit of a simpleton and naive, a bit not of this world, and Esav takes advantage of this.

The third opinion says that Yitzchak simply likes to eat, simply loves worldly pleasures. Thus, for example, midrash Shocher Tov says: “Since Yitzchak was a son of old age, he was pampered and accustomed to all kinds of expensive food. And Esav got him food and gave him good wine to drink.” That, too, seems understandable. Yitzchak is weak. He was born into the family of Avraham, as a son of old age. Of course, Avraham and Sara pampered their child. Yitzchak grew up and did not overcome his pampered ways. Therefore the fact that Esav brings him food, and we know that Esav really takes care of daddy, he brought him food. We read in another place that Esav went to him in festive garments. Esav could throw daddy a celebration. Apparently, he liked to throw daddy a celebration. And Yitzchak loved him very much for this. There is also this kind of view, which tries to explain why, after all, such a righteous, such a holy Yitzchak loves such a ne'er-do-well, hapless Esav.

There are also other commentators who see in Yitzchak a strategist. And they say, looking at this sweep of Esav's hunting, at his abilities to achieve success in the world, Yitzchak understood that Yaakov, of course, is a pure man, naive, open to the Torah, honest, but spreading the Torah in the world is not his thing. Here a businesslike business acumen is needed. Here a business project is needed. And here Esav's success is needed. And how great it would be to turn all this success, Esav's abilities, toward the Torah. And therefore, as a strategist, Yitzchak loves Esav very much, sees in him this potential, the potential of a man of action, who will be needed when the Torah, the teaching, spreads not only through the land of Canaan, but also through the whole world.

There are those who say that Yitzchak understood how corrupt Esav was, how bad his qualities of soul were. And at the same time he understood that if the Most High had placed in Esav such a (let us say in quotation marks or without) bad potential, then He had also placed in him the potential of correction. And this potential of correction is the ability to correct sins, not only to sin, but also to correct sins. One could say, later on this is the quality of King David, precisely the ability to do teshuva, to carry out repentance – this is what David realized in full measure. There is much similarity between David and Esav. Yaakov saw this potentialiThe Russian says “Yaakov” here, although the whole paragraph speaks about Yitzchak. It is translated as written., and valued it very much, and very much wanted to awaken it, to realize it. After all, this very ability to overcome sin is a messianic quality.

Other commentators, in particular Rav Yehuda Ilai, speak of Esav's dissent, see in Esav a man who thinks outside the generally accepted framework. Later in Jewish history there will be such a teacher, Rabbi Meir, who always disagrees. And, if the sages express some opinion, Rabbi Meir tries to express an alternative opinion, which somehow does not fit into the sages, although he is often a head taller than them in intelligence. But later on he will remain like that in Jewish law, as “and others, who think differently, say,” sometimes even without the name “Rabbi Meir,” a man of completely non-standard thinking, the father, one could say, of diversity of thought, from which the skillful are born, thinking so differently that in the Talmud there is the mention: “And in the Torah of Rabbi Meir it is written not so, but so. It is written – not a garment of skin, but a garment of light, for example.” Thinking so different that one might think that in his Torah it is written differently. No, of course not. In his Torah it is written the same way, but he sees other meanings, he is able to think absolutely differently from all the others. And this dissent, this ability to present a different thought, is perhaps what Yitzchak sees.

There are those who say that Yitzchak understood that Esav is, to put it in modern language, a difficult teenager, and a difficult teenager especially needs love. If you meet a person with some heavy qualities, helping to correct them is a very important task. With your own qualities that you run into, you also have to manage to love yourself, despite the fact that you, too, are sometimes Esav. One has to know how to correct these qualities, and not break them.

After all, nowhere, in fact, do the Torah, the Jewish teaching on morals and ethics, teach the breaking of any qualities, they always speak of correction. And very often it happens that a person ends up thrown onto the roadside, because he was counted among the Esavs and simply thrown out. Or he counted himself among the Esavs and threw himself out. Or, on the contrary, he began to break himself, humbling himself, stepped on the throat of his own song, and in the end could not bear this breaking, and again ended up on the roadside, or even lost his way altogether. And Yitzchak, as an educator, according to this approach, as a teacher, understood that Esav needed love. And therefore he loved Esav very much.

There is one more approach, accepted among the commentators, which sees in Yitzchak an absolutely humble righteous man, who accepts everything that the Most High gives him. He loves Esav because this is the firstborn whom the Most High gave him. If the Most High decided that Yitzchak should have such a firstborn, then that is how it should be. Yitzchak, who loves God, loves his firstborn Esav, understands that this is for the good, understands that this is how it has to be. And he loves Esav because he loves God, Who sent Esav into his life, by Whose decision, by Whose will Esav himself became the firstborn. Precisely for this reason, according to this approach, Yitzchak is not very worried when all this confusion with the blessing happens, understanding that this too is from God, God set this up, God will arrange it for the good. Such is one more wonderful view of the relationship between Yitzchak and Esav. And it is close to me.

Although closer to me is the view that it is simply natural for a person, and for the person Yitzchak, to love his son, because he saw him little, because he saw him newborn, because he held him in his arms, because this is your son, flesh of your flesh. And, even if he is potentially a villain, all the same one can show love to him, he is the firstborn, and he needs your love. You need love for him. It simply happens. Love will come unexpectedly. That is why it says here: “Yitzchak loved Esav.” He loved him because this is simply his son.

I list all this variety of approaches not at all in order to build some kind of table, make a diagram or assemble some kind of collection. All this reflects different views of people on certain relationships that we encounter. In this case, the love of a father for his son. Why does the father love the son? Because, perhaps, the father is somewhat simple, somewhat foolish. And the son deceives him. Or, what do we want to see in the situation? Human foolishness, human attachment to something carnal? Or perhaps human holiness? Or perhaps, naturally, love? With what instruments and how do we analyze the situation? What does this say about ourselves? Are we capable of loving Esav? Do we love someone for the food that he gives us? Do we love someone, deceived by the fact that someone created a beautiful image. Do we try to ask beautiful, clever questions in order to seem clever and righteous?

All this is the experience of the people in understanding one simple verse about the love of a father and a son. And so many facets open up in it.

Corresponding to our weekly portion Toldot is the beginning of the book of the prophet Malachi.

“Here are the words of the LORD, the load of the words of the LORD or the burden of the words of the LORD.” Such an epithet, such a metaphor is used by the prophet. “Here, for you, is a sack of the words of the LORD in my hands, a burden of the words of the LORD in my hands, the hands of the prophet Malachi.” Who Malachi is, we do not know. There are so many different opinions about this that there are those who say that this is not a proper name at all, it is not a person's own name, it is not some person who was called Malachi. This is a prophet who prophesies about the Angel of the LORD, and therefore this is, so to speak, his pen name, Malachi. There are many different opinions, and probably we have no possibility to judge unambiguously which of them is right. Therefore we will read the prophecy itself.

It should be noted that the whole book of the prophet Malachi is built in the form of such a dialogue: the Most High speaks and the people (or a kohen, or someone else) answers him. This is the literary form of the book of the prophet Malachi. You said:

“…in what is your love for us?” (to this question the Most High answers) “Why, Esav is brother to Yaakov…

Esav and Yaakov have one and the same father, and they have one and the same mom. This is not the merit of the fathers. This is not some genealogical reason. Both of them are sons of the same parents.

… but I loved Yaakov.

“Here there is no connection with the ancestors. Here is Esav, here is Yaakov. One I loved, the other I hated.” The word saneti is translated I hated. In the Russian language everything connected with hatred sounds very harsh. In fact, sena is not hatred, not always hatred in such a harsh Russian sense of the word. Sometimes it is loved less. As it is said, for example, in the Torah, that a man will have two wives, one he will love and the other hate. Not that he will hate her – he will treat her with less love. “And Esav I hated.”

…and I will make his mountains a wasteland, And his allotment I will give to the foxes of the desert (or to the jackals of the desert).”

“Look, – says the Most High, – lift up your eyes and look to the southeast, at Edom, at the land of Esav. You have returned to your land, you are restoring your land, and the land gives you its fruits. Look at what is happening with the land of Edom. There, where my love is not shown. Look, Edom is a wasteland. Jackals and foxes on its land; there, where you plant and receive a harvest, your neighbors, the Edomites, live far from that way. Here is the expression of my love. You will say: ‘Well, all right, we do have such an ancient Zionist movement, a national movement for return. So we have returned and prospered. But maybe it will suddenly turn out that these Edomites, parallel to our Zionism, will invent an Edumism, they will return and begin to restore their land. Is that really Your love? This is our merit.’ And here the Most High says:

Look, Edom has no restoration. Even if they want to, they will not be able to restore their land, and if they try, they will get even greater destruction. I will be glorified in this, and you will be witness to it. Therefore understand and take in that I love you.

But not everything is as rosy as it may seem from the prophet's first words.

The Most High says in verse 7:

In the book of Devarim (15:21) there is a direct prohibition on offering a blind one as a sacrifice: “But if it has a defect, lame or blind, any bad defect at all, then do not offer it as a sacrifice to the LORD, your God.” And here the Most High accuses the kohanim of violating this direct prohibition and continues:

… If you bring the lame and the sick, is that not evil? Maybe you will bring it to your pasha (your ruler)?

When the Persians ruled over the Holy Land, the rulers were called pacha. And, accordingly, one or another region of rule was called pachva, pashalik. Later the Turks borrowed this name, and that is why many have probably heard the expression Turkish pasha. Here the Most High suggests – try to bring him such an animal as a gift.

… Will he be pleased, and will he show you favor?” – says the LORD of hosts.

The Most High says: “Try offering such a thing to an earthly king, watch his reaction. Let us conduct an experiment.”

Do you really count on it that He, the Heavenly King, will accept the sacrifice that not even an earthly king would accept.

A sentence very difficult to understand. At that time, as far as we know, only the people of Israel serve the Most High. And one can understand it like this. “If I turned to some one of the other peoples, in any place they would bring me the best of the best and would give the best burning of incense in my honor.”

Another understanding says that especially after the decree about the restoration of Jerusalem, when all the peoples saw how the Most High shows his love for his people, righteous ones appeared who realized the power of the Most High and began to burn incense to Him and to bring sacrifices. There is also, one might say, a Pharisaic understanding, according to which the sages teach Torah all over the world, and this is like burning of incense and like a sacrifice. And here there is a contrast between the priests and the sages.

One more understanding says that even among idol worshippers, among those who worship idols, there are some who understand that behind all this there is one God. “And all the same they glorify and understand Me.”

This can also be understood like this: simply pitiful is this gift that is brought to the LORD. Or it can also be understood like this: there is no profit at all, the income from this altar is negligible. A very difficult expression to understand. Hence the many variants of translation.

One can understand it this way and that way. Both the one and the other are quite unflattering with regard to the kohanim. The Most High says: “I love you. I love the whole people, not only the kohanim.” This conversation with the kohanim, as we see from the first verse of the first chapter, is not a conversation with the kohanim one on one, it is a conversation with the people in the presence of the whole people, and with the kohanim about the kohanim. The Most High here addresses not the kohanim, but first of all the whole people whom they serve, and says: “I love you, but you have a problem: your kohanim have gone rotten, your ministers have gone rotten. I loved you not for some merits, I loved you just like that. But where is the respect? Where is the respect on the part of those who should be in the vanguard, ahead of the whole people in this respect, in this reverence? Where is the respect and reverence of the kohanim, when your mission, the honorable mission, the great mission of the priesthood, which has been laid upon you, is a hassle for you, for you it is some kind of burden from which there is no profit at all, and all of you only expect profit. And you bring what has been plundered, what has been dishonestly obtained.” And the lame, and the sick. You reason: “Since the Most High eats whatever comes along, let us give Him whatever comes along, and that is what we will bring. If there is no income from this altar anyway, let us dump onto it, let us give over there everything that is not fit to go there. The best we give to the governor, what is worse we take for ourselves, and the third grade or the seventh grade will go to the Most High, onto the altar. He will eat everything anyway.” This is the gift you bring me.”

… Do you really think that I will want to accept it from your hands, says the LORD?

The LORD says: “Cursed is the one who has a good animal in his flock but brings Me some sick animal. One must not act like that with Me, because I am the Great King. If the pasha, your Persian governor, will not accept such a gift from you, how can you count on it that I will accept such a thing from you?”

This is the end of the first chapter. We will continue by reading the second chapter.

Here the address is to the kohanim, but the conversation, as we read at the very beginning, takes place before the whole people. The Most High here is not keeping secrets with the kohanim, but speaks publicly about what may happen to them.

We know from the book of Bemidbar (chapter 6) that one of the tasks, one of the privileges of the kohanim is to bless the people of Israel. It is said: “And you shall put My Name upon the sons of Israel, and I will bless them.” Here the LORD says: “I will curse them. Your blessing I will make a curse.”

… And already, consider it done, I have cursed it (your blessing), because you do not take it to your heart, (you do not set your heart right)

When Levi served, when the kohanim served in accordance with their covenant and were in the covenant, they were able to deliver many from sin.

Read also: Chayei Sarah, Vayetze, Toldot in audio format and the weekly portions of the Torah.