Thursday, November 19, 2009

Tol'dot: Letting Them Down Off the Pedestal

It seems to be a staple of human nature to want to create heroes for ourselves. Whether it's a brilliant scientist, a mesmerizing musician, an explosive athlete, or a gifted writer; we all seek out people of exceptional ability to admire. And because we do this, it is so much harder to accept when they fall short.

The purpose of this blog post is not to chastise us for wanting to look up to someone. But we also should not wear rose-colored glasses, where we refuse to accept that they can make mistakes, or that they are human beings who are not flawless. When we do this, we give people license to break the law or act immorally, and then, when we finally realize how poorly they've acted, things may already have gotten out of hand.

The Torah warns us against this behavior. Several times, it clearly describes who the heroes are in its stories, yet it exposes all their flaws and weaknesses. The purpose isn't to jump ship, to look for better leaders. We know who our patriarchs and prophets are, we cannot abandon them. But we have to accept that they are human, that they are constantly prone to errors of judgment.

This week we see an interesting example, both of flawed leadership, and also people refusing to accept the fall of their heroes. Our Torah portion portrays Jacob, our ancestor, disguising himself as his brother, Esau, in order to fool his blind father and steal the blessing of the firstborn. Hardly a praiseworthy endeavor...

At the start of the story, we might be able to shift blame to his mother, Rebecca, who hatched the nefarious plan. But once Jacob is alone with his aging father, he, and he alone, is responsible for the lies that he tells. That is, unless you are one of the medieval rabbinic commentators, and you are seeking desperately to redeem Jacob and prove that he is a noble and righteous individual. Then you might employ a different strategy, such as the approach taken by the commentator Rashi, to bail Jacob out of the mess he has created for himself.

Twice in the story, Isaac asks if the man before him is truly Esau, and not an impostor. And twice, Jacob lies... Or does he? In Genesis, chapter 27, verse 19, Jacob responds to his father, "I am Esau, your firstborn." Rashi redoes the punctuation of this verse (and inserts a few choice words), so that the verse instead reads: "I am [he that brings food to you], and Esau is your firstborn." Hey, if Isaac misunderstood what Jacob was "really" saying, it's not Jacob's fault, right? And then, in verse 24, Isaac again asks if this is really Esau standing before him, and Jacob responds, "I am." Rashi again comes to rescue, and writes: "He did not say, 'I am Esau,' but 'It is I.'" In other words, Jacob said "I am me," and Isaac simply misunderstood what his son was saying.

These interpretations are a little far-fetched, to be sure, but I think it teaches us something valuable about Rashi more than about Jacob and Esau, and it teaches us something about ourselves. Rashi doesn't want to let Jacob falter. The text portrays him as a liar, but Rashi doesn't want to accept that. We sometimes do the same thing; making excuses for athletes who break the law or behave inappropriately.

Sometimes we have to put interpretations aside and live with the tension of a hero who makes mistakes. The Torah seems content to expose flaws in every one of the Biblical heroes, from Abraham and Sarah, to Moses, Aaron, and Miriam. If the Torah is ok with imperfect protagonists, why aren't we?

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