Friday, November 5, 2021

Two Separate Nations

Toldot

Gen. 25:19-28:9

 

Précis: The introductory phrase to this parasha is “These are the generations (“toldot”) of Isaac.” What follows is the birth of the twins, Esau and Jacob. Their childhood is omitted from the narrative. We learn that Jacob is a quiet man while Esau is a cunning hunter, that their mother Rebecca prefers Jacob, and that Isaac prefers Esau. Esau sells his birthright to Jacob for a bowl of porridge (or lentils). A famine takes place, and Isaac visits the Philistines where he claims that his wife Rebecca is actually his sister (as Abraham did with Sarah in Lech Lecha) and again, the woman escapes unharmed. The story turns to the “great deception” where Jacob pretends to be Esau in order to obtain the primary blessing from his father Isaac. Esau hates Jacob and threatens him; Rebecca urges Jacob to escape to her family in Haran, and he sets off at the conclusion of the parasha.

 

Gen. 25:23 “Two nations are in your womb, two separate nations shall issue from your body; one nation shall be mightier than the other, and the older shall serve the younger.’”

 

Rabbi Mordechai Silverstein has written about the implications of this verse (Conservative Yeshiva, 11/15/17).

            This promise is the answer to Rebekah’s inquiry of God: “She inquired of the Lord, and the Lord answered her" (Genesis 25:22). Silverstein suggests that this establishes the Jacob/Esau paradigm of national conflict.

            First, of course, is the bitter rivalry and death threat by Esau to Jacob, followed by decades of estrangement, and completed with an inconclusive reconciliation. Much midrash suggests that the so-called reconciliation was temporary at best.

            During the First Temple period, our tradition identified Esau as the nation of Edom, a nation about which our texts had mixed attitudes. The Bible tells us not to mistreat Edomites (“You shall not abhor the Edomite, for he is your kinsman” [Deut. 23:8]). On the other hand, Balaam’s prophecy states that Edom would be the Jewish People’s enemy (“Edom becomes a possession, yeah, Seir a possession of its enemies; but Israel is triumphant.” [Num. 24:18]). It is reflected as well in the words of the prophet Obadiah: “And liberators shall ascend Mount Zion to bring judgment on Mount Esau; and dominion shall be the Lord's” Obadiah 1:21). The Edomites allied themselves with Babylonia at the time of the destruction of the Temple, cementing their role as adversaries.

            The Jacob/Esau struggle became the symbol for the Jewish conflict with the Romans during the time of the Second Temple. Subsequently, when the Roman Empire became Christian, Edom symbolized Christianity as well. Thus, the Jacob/Esau struggle came to be viewed by our Tradition as a fight of Good vs. Evil, what today we would call a conflict between two civilizations.

            The prenatal conflict between Jacob and Esau transmuted into the real struggles of a minority people (the Jews) in the context of a dominant broader culture (first Romans, then Christians). As Silverstein concludes, there is incredible ambivalence in this relationship. Will conflict ever end? This question looms large for us in every generation. Some suggest that the modern Edom is that part of the world which is steeped in anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism. Even if true, we can take some solace that for more than 3 millennia, the Jewish People have continued to overcome the threats of Edom, and with God’s blessings, we will continue to do so.

Friday, October 29, 2021

The Resident Alien

 

Chaye Sarah

Gen. 23:1-25:18

 

Précis: The parasha begins with the counting the days of the life of Sarah (Chaye Sarah) and with her death. It continues with a detailed description of the purchase of the cave of Machpela by Abraham for a family burial site. Abraham orders his servant to go to Abraham’s ancestral home to obtain a wife for Isaac, and after a series of fulfilled signs, the servant finds Rebecca. Rebecca returns with the servant; she and Isaac meet, fall in love at first sight, and become man and wife. The parasha ends with the death of Abraham, and his burial by Isaac and Ishmael in the family plot.

 

Gen. 23:1-2 “And the life of Sarah was a hundred and seven and twenty years; these were the days of the life of Sarah. Abraham arose from beside his dead, and spoke to the Hittites, saying, ‘I am a resident alien among you; sell me a burial site.’”     

 

            Rabbi Dan Moskovitz (10 Minutes of Torah, 1/18/19) focuses on one particular phrase in this week’s reading: the term ger v’toshav, or “resident foreigner.”

            What does a “resident alien” really mean? Our tradition suggests it is an individual with a special status, living permanently among​ ​us, but without actual citizenship. The resident alien had all of the protections of law, but was exempt from most citizenship requirements.  In other words, a ger toshav was a protected visitor and honored guest.

            Thirty-six times in Torah, we are commanded to “love the stranger.” In this parashah, Abraham is not presented as the powerful, wealthy businessman he was nor as a man who regularly talked with God. Instead, he is presented as a helpless stranger. The Hittites violate their own law against selling land to outsiders like Abraham. Why? Moskowitz suggests that it was because they saw themselves in his shoes, and they imagined their own dead lying at their feet.

            History in general, and Jewish history in particular, is replete with experiences of being the outsider who does not fit into society. Indeed, in the Islamic world, Jews were regarded as second-class citizens, even though usually recognized as “people of the Book,” before they were expelled from most of those lands. In Christian Europe, Jews rarely if ever were granted citizenship prior to the late 18th century of the common era. So, the Torah commands us to see to the welfare of the stranger among us, and our history reminds us that it is a personal obligation.

            Today, with millions of refugees from famine, war, disease, and climate change, it seems time for us to recommit to the Jewish demand that we see to the needs of the resident aliens among us, and welcome the stranger into our midst.