Esau Have I Loved

Parashat Toldot, Genesis 25:19-28:9

Rabbi David Wein, Tikvat Israel, Richmond, VA

A father has twins, Ed and Jay; more different, they couldn’t be. Jay prefers the indoors, and has some character issues: lying, manipulating, and going five miles under in the left lane. Fun fact: as a baby he would grab Ed’s heel! Nevertheless, today Jay values things of real worth, and his mind is intentional and strategic. A shrewd dude. Ed, on the other hand, is a seat-of-your-pants, outdoorsy, on-the-fly kind of guy. Even as a baby, he was quite rough and hairy—an outdoor baby, if you will. The two brothers were always fighting, and eventually they moved far from each other. 

The father thinks: “Jay and Ed have I both loved.” Now, how can I show each son that? Here’s what I will do. To Jay, I will remind him and everyone else that I’m always his dad. I will put my name, my reputation, on him. If anyone calls Jay a liar, I will say, “That’s my son you’re talking about.” Eventually, his heart will melt at my consistency, and he will grow in character to treat others with kindness and truth. As for Ed, I will tell everyone that I am from his country. Even when I rise to defend Jay, I will be coming from Ed’s house. In that way, everyone will know that I am also his dad. And Ed’s heart will melt and his character will grow to value the greater things.  And some day their hearts will melt toward each other and there will be shalom between brothers. 

I have always felt that Jacob’s story is more about God than it is about Jacob. The choosing of Jacob has been justified by scholars over time: “Well, he wasn’t that bad.” But instead of defending a man with dubious motives, let’s look at it from the other side: What does it mean that God is the “God of Jacob”? (Isaiah 2:3, Psalm 20:2, etc.) Any father who links his name and reputation to his son (no matter what the son does) shows the love and commitment of the father. It is this commitment and covenantal faithfulness that is designed to undo the heart of Jacob and his descendants.  No matter what, the Father has forever linked his reputation, his name, to Jacob, the Jewish people.  

Now, on to Ed (Edom), also known as Esau. Esau settles in the land of Seir, associated with Mount Paran. If the father in my opening story represents God, then how can we say that God is “from” somewhere? Well, this surprising idea crops up throughout the Hebrew Bible. Some examples: 

Deut 33:2

[Moses] said, “Adonai came from Sinai and dawned on Bnei-Yisrael from Seir. He shone forth from Mount Paran, and He came from the holy myriads— blazing fire for them from His right hand.”

Hab 3:3

God comes from Teman,

and the Holy One from Mount Paran. 

His majesty covers the heavens,

and His praise fills the earth.

Teman was a city in Southern Edom, again the land of Esau.  This is from the song of Deborah: 

Judges 5:4 

Adonai, when You came out from Seir, when You marched from Edom’s field, the earth trembled, the heavens also dropped, yes, the clouds dropped water.

This passage explains that the Lord came from the east, from Edom, to deliver Israel.  Here’s another from Isaiah 63:1

“Who is this coming from Edom,

in crimsoned garments from Bozrah?

This One splendid in His apparel,

    pressing forward in His great might?”

“It is I who speak in righteousness,

    mighty to save.”

The hints are there in the text: the Lord, who rescues Israel (Jacob), comes “from” Edom. The Scriptures are showing the Lord’s commitment to rescue Jacob, but coming out of the land of Esau. It reminds the descendants of Jacob that God loves Edom, He is connected with Esau, and He is interested in linking Jacob and Esau back together. 

“Edom” is a stand-in for the nations, as Jacob is the father of the people of Israel.  Alef Daled Mem spells Edom, but it also spells Adam, humanity. “Jacob have I loved. And Esau, the nations, have I also loved.” God’s love is specific, tailored to each brother in a way that will eventually bring wholeness. This is also how God loves us—intentionally, specifically.  It is also how we love; for example, I don’t love every person on the planet in the same way that I love and choose my wife. 

The destiny of these two brothers is irrevocably linked.  We see this in the apex of Esau’s pain, from this week’s parasha. Jacob leaves the presence of Isaac, taking the blessing, and Esau comes in and finds that he’s too late: 

When Esau heard his father’s words, he shouted with an intensely bitter groan. Then he said to his father, “Bless me, me too, my father!” 

Then he said, “Your brother came deceitfully and took your blessing.”

He said, “Is this why he was named Jacob—since he’s tricked me twice already? My birthright he’s taken. Look! Now he’s taken my blessing!” Then he said, “Haven’t you saved a blessing for me?”

 Isaac answered and said to Esau, “Behold, I’ve made him master over you, and all your brothers I’ve given to him as servants. I’ve provided him with grain and new wine. What then can I do for you, my son?”

Esau said to his father, “Do you just have one blessing, my father? Bless me too, my father!” And Esau lifted up his voice and wept. (Gen 27:34-38)

Visualize Esau for a moment in this story. “Father, where is my blessing? Haven’t you saved a blessing for me, Father? Why is there only one good one left?” On the one hand, Isaac is limited. He doesn’t really have another blessing for Esau, at least one that Esau longs to hear.  On the other hand, Isaac does indeed have a blessing for Esau—now it’s just tied to Jacob:

Then Isaac his father said to him,

“Behold, away from the land’s fatness shall your dwelling be,

    away from the dew of the sky above.

By your sword shall you live,

and your brother shall you serve.

But when you tear yourself loose,

you will tear his yoke off your neck.” (Gen 27:39-40)

By dealing with this relationship, the most painful one, Esau will eventually find freedom and blessing.  This is also true for Jacob.  He must turn toward Esau whom he wronged—wrestle it out with him—in order to experience blessing. When Jacob does turn toward his brother years later, he remarks that seeing his face is like seeing the face of God (Gen 33:10). 

The relationship between these two is a foundational relationship in the Scriptures: Israel and the Nations in shalom, under one Shepherd, sharing in each other's destinies through humility and turning toward the other. This is what Romans 9-11, Ephesians 2, John 10 and 17, and perhaps the whole narrative are about.  

I am the Good Shepherd. I know My own and My own know Me, just as the Father knows Me and I know the Father. And I lay down My life for the sheep. I have other sheep that are not from this fold; those also I must lead, and they will listen to My voice. So there shall be one flock, one Shepherd. (John 10:14-16)

In Mark 3:8, Idumeans come to hear and draw near to Yeshua.  Idumeans are descendants of Edom; the gospel account is highlighting that Esau is now turning toward the One-Man Israel. 

So now, who is your Esau?  How can we internalize God’s love for them, turn toward them, and realize that our blessing is wrapped up in theirs?  Isaac is limited as a father, but Hashem has enough blessing and love for both brothers, and we are made in His image.  Why not say a blessing over your Esau right now? A turn toward Esau is a turn toward the face of God.