Joseph and Israel: The birthright versus the blessing

What is worth striving for? Fighting for? Dying for?

This week’s Parsha, Vayetzei,  focuses on how Jacob became Israel,  the next in line after Abraham and Isaac, the successor in the covenant that started with Abraham.

That role in the covenantal chain is what Jacob achieved because, ultimately, that is what Jacob will be willing to fight for and even die for. Jacob fought to be the successor to Isaac in the covenant with God, including fathering the next generation of children and leading his people back to their promised land in Israel. That is how he earned the name “Israel.”

We all have to decide when to compromise, when to struggle, and when to risk everything.

The Tradition does not advocate for fanaticism. “A person be pliant as a reed and not hard as a cedar. And for this reason, the reed merited that of it should be made a quill for the writing of the Torah, tefillin and mezuzot.”   Talmud, Taanit 20a:16.

So let us look at the Jacob story to see where he accommodates, and where he stands fast. Specifically, let us contrast how Jacob dealt with his birthright and with his blessing   He could compromise on the birthright but risked everything for the blessing.

Jacob’s first move is to obtain the birthright from his older brother, Esau. “Birthright,” we gather from the bible generally,  included the right of the firstborn to an extra portion in the inheritance from the parents and the right to lead the group. These are essentially worldly assets, not a spiritual vocation.

Jacob secures the birthright by taking advantage of Esau’s impetuosity. Esau, coming home from the field, is willing to trade the birthright for a bowl of soup.

We, the readers, are left uneasy by this episode. We can make excuses, such as that Esau showed himself unworthy by himself engaging in the soup swap. But Jacob was, we hope,  had qualms about the morality of the transaction. When, much later, Jacob finally reconciled with Esau,  Jacob was flexible on “birthright” issues. Jacob sent ahead material gifts to Esau. When he met Esau in person, he offered his brother even more. Jacob addressed Esau as my lord and referred to himself as his servant. In essence, Jacob offered to return the birthright. But notice: Jacob never offered to return the blessing; he never invited God and Esau to replace Jacob’s role in the covenantal chain.

As we look through the story, Jacob is often flexible about material things. He offers to work for seven years for his uncle Laban for the hand of Rachel. Laban then tricks Jacob into instead marrying Leah, the older daughter. Jacob then agrees to put in another seven years if he can now marry Rachel as well. After that, Jacob worked for yet another six years for Laban. Laban is a manipulative and untrustworthy employer who keeps switching the terms of Jacob’s compensation – yet Jacob puts up with all of it for two decades. He finally leaves only when God orders him to do so.

Now let us focus on the blessing. With his mother Rebecca’s help, Jacob tricks an aging Isaac  into bestowing the blessing intended for Esau on him. As with the birthright, Jacob likely had qualms about deceiving his father and depriving his brother. But Jacob never offers to return the blessing to Esau. Rather, he fights to become worthy of it. All alone, he confronts a stranger – an angel of God? – and wrestles with him all night long. Even though  Jacob is seriously wounded, he does not let the angel go until the angel blesses him. In effect, Jacob was fighting to become worthy of the blessing he had first won through guile.

Much later in the story, a dying Jacob confers his blessings on the next generation. And among his final wishes is that his body be carried back to Israel for burial in the tomb of Abraham and Sarah, in the promised land.

Everywhere, Jews have to decide what must be asserted, how, and to what limit. Israel,  the modern state named after Jacob, from its outset has often chosen to compromise. When it emerged in 1948, Israel accepted the partition of its traditional territory. While accepting the loss of much of its traditional territory,  the new state was still able to continue the blessing – to provide a haven where the people of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and their covenants could remember their past and build a future. What can, must, should be compromised in the future?

Here in the Diaspora,  especially in these times, we have to make difficult choices. How much to risk by speaking out or openly displaying our identity and stating our cause? We must decide whether and when to give up the struggle here and return to the homeland.

If we look for role models to resolve our perplexities, the fact is that the bible does not present us with models of perfection. Jacob is, in many ways, a flawed human being. If any of our epic figures were perfect saints, they might be less relevant and inspiring for the all-too-human beings who read of them even now.

Jacob – later, Israel – struggled with himself, with an outer world that could be hostile and perverse. He even struggled with an emissary of God. He prevailed in some of these battles and left us to do as he did –  to strive with our own limitations as individuals,  to find some higher purpose,  to balance prudence and principle, and in the end, to pass on to the next generations a worthy legacy.