Shifting the Blame Game

Parshas Toldos

Posted on November 18, 2025 (5786) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

This week’s Torah portion begins and ends by contrasting the bedrock values that defined the fundamental differences between Yaakov and Esav. The Torah sums up their radically divergent personalities as evidenced from their earliest years: Yaakov chose to be an Ish Ohalim, “a man of the tent,” whose primary pursuit was the fulfillment of Hashem’s will, whereas Eisav was a man of the field, a hunter who sought out power and dominion.

 

Throughout the parsha, we see how the two brothers were case studies in opposites: Yaakov was a person with a gentle and sensitive nature, Eisav gloried in being tough and coarse. The jealousy and anger that Eisav harbored toward his brother stands in stark contrast to Yaakov’s forgiving and non-combative nature. Towards the end of the Torah portion, another fundamental difference between the brothers surface-their utterly different ways of dealing with life’s challenges and setbacks.

 

Eisav is angry and disillusioned at having been by-passed when Yitzchok bestowed on Yaakov the Divine blessings of material success and prosperity. His brother had usurped him and gained for himself these precious blessings that Eisav felt should be rightfully his. The Torah describes how Eisav went on the warpath and would have killed Yaakov were it not for the anguish this would have brought to his parents. Instead, he vented his extreme disappointment by rationalizing that it was through no fault of his own but rather the fault of his idol worshipping wives that he had not been granted the blessings by his father.

 

The parsha relates that in line with this rationalization, Eisav took a third wife, Bosmas, the daughter of Ishmael. The commentaries shed light on his thinking. “By marrying someone from my father’s family, a daughter of Ishmael,” he reasoned, “I’ll surely regain my position of authority in the family and will once again be able to ingratiate myself to my father.”

 

Let us contrast his behavior with the response of Abraham after the Akeidah. HaShem tests Avraham with the most demanding challenge possible. He instructs Avraham to slaughter his own beloved son, the son who guaranteed his legacy would be perpetuated for future generations. Unflinchingly, Avraham takes his son on this fateful journey, leading him to Mount Moriah, where he will carry out Hashem’s command. With unfaltering step, he prepares to carry out his mission. Although the angel intercedes before the act can be carried out and tells him it was simply a test that he passed with flying colors, Avraham is not at peace.

 

His desire to give away his most precious possession to G-d needed physical expression. He poured this consuming desire into the sacrifice of the lamb that he found nearby. The Heavenly voice then proclaimed that through the merit of this unparalleled act of devotion to G-d, Avraham secured for himself and his future generations an outpouring of Divine blessing; eternal possession of the land of Israel and the promise of descendants as numerous as the stars of the heavens.

 

One might expect Avraham to leave the site of the Akeidah full of satisfaction at having behaved so nobly. Yet we learn from the commentaries that he felt far from complacent.

 

“Perhaps I could have done something different so that HaShem would have allowed me to sacrifice Isaac,” he wondered. “Perhaps I could have married him off at a younger age in which case he would have already had children, and HaShem would have allowed me to carry out the Akeidah literally, not figuratively.” The Torah tells us that immediately after this episode, Avraham was told that Rivka, Isaac’s designated bride to be, had just been born. He was thus placated.

 

Avraham’s reaction to the challenge of the Akeida throws the differences in character between he and Eisav into bold relief. The name “Esav” stems from the word “ah’suy,” which means “finished, perfect,” for the wicked feel they are perfect products, never in need of improvement or change. They will never accept responsibility for their own shortcomings and are expert at shifting the blame to others. The righteous, by contrast, are always willing to self-reflect, to try to pinpoint where and how they could have behaved better.

 

That message is one from which we can all benefit. Only when we can admit our weaknesses and exhibit the strength of character to work on improving ourselves will we be able to grow spiritually to the point of realizing our own spiritual destiny.

 

Wishing you a wonderful Shabbos!

 

The Test of Time

Parshas Toldos

Posted on November 21, 2014 (5775) By Rabbi Yaakov Menken | Series: Lifeline | Level: Beginner

 

The Torah reading this week begins: “These are the generations of Yitzchak ben Avraham, Avraham fathered Yitzchak” [25:19]. It seems redundant to say that “Avraham fathered Yitzchak” — the Torah has, by this time, presented in great detail the circumstances of Yitzchak’s birth, his near sacrifice, and the process by which his wife was identified and brought from her home to marry him. Even in this verse, the Torah calls him “Yitzchak ben Avraham,” which of course means Avraham was his father! What’s the message?

 

The Ramban [Nachmanides] points out that at the end of last week’s reading, the Torah describes “the generations of Yishmael ben Avraham” [25:12], so you might think the two are equal. “Therefore, the Torah goes back and says Avraham gave birth to Yitzchok, to say that Yitzchak alone is his progeny.” Yitzchok was the fulfillment of Avraham’s potential, the creation of another patriarch of the Jewish nation. Yitzchok, not Yishmael “whom Hagar, the Egyptian maidservant of Sarah, birthed to Avraham” [the continuation of 25:12] nor any of the children of Keturah, was the one who carried Avraham’s mission forward.

 

From the beginning, the Torah talks about the importance of carrying the Jewish mission from one generation to the next. Today, of course, a person is a member of the Jewish people whether or not he or she is even aware of it, much less able to personally educate the next generation. But nonetheless, Judaism requires that we educate both ourselves and our children.

 

When Project Genesis started over twenty years ago, the first National Jewish Population Survey had recently shocked the Jewish establishment with an intermarriage rate of over 50% among young Jews, and a general decline in Jewish affiliation. In a state of near panic, complete with projections of only 10,000 Jews remaining in the New York area by the end of the 21st century, money was suddenly allocated for “Jewish continuity” programming. Most of that money, however, was (and is still) invested in social programming, music and dance — and as the recent Pew Report showed us, nothing has changed.

 

Nothing, that is, save the rapid growth of communities where Jewish day school is the norm, rather than the exception. The Orthodox community has defied the demographic trends identified by the NJPS, recognizing that there is a core mission to transmit Avraham’s message to the next generation. Helping every Jew to grasp hold of our heritage is not a way, but the way, to ensure that he or she is part of the Jewish future.