Toldot: Character and Choice

The sedra (Torah reading) of Toldot is a turning point in the book of Bereshit (Genesis). If we look at the structure of the book, first come the preliminary chapters about the failure of mankind as a whole to live up to God’s vision. Then we have an extended narrative about Avraham (Abraham), a shorter one about Yitzchak (Isaac) and then a longer one about Yaakov (Jacob), triggered by the sale of the birthright and stealing of the blessings (probably not the same thing, according to many traditional commentators). Then we have a much longer narrative about Yosef (Joseph), perhaps the longest in Tanakh (the Hebrew Bible), which seems to be a response to earlier narratives, particularly the expulsion of Yishmael (Ishmael), the sale of the birthright and the stealing of the blessings, which perhaps lead Yaakov’s sons to expect to be disowned if Yosef remains the favourite son. The story of the sale of the birthright and the theft of the blessings is a kind of narrative pivot, making clear that the covenant is going to be carried on by only one branch of the Abrahamic family, one nation, but also setting up a whole sequence of narratives based on the fear or anger of being left out of the covenant.

On this year’s reading, I found myself looking at the individual characters in the drama. Robert Alter, in his excellent book, The Art of Biblical Narrative, notes that of all the peoples of the ancient Middle East and Mediterranean, only the Israelites wrote their national epic in prose rather than poetry. Alter sees this as a key point. To the monotheistic Israelite imagination, what mattered was living correctly with God, as demonstrated by ethical behaviour. Unlike the heroic epics of the ancient pagans, focused on honour and glory in the face of immutable fate, Tanakh is focused on the way ethical choices affect character and determine the outcome of events. Almost every major biblical character undergoes some kind of character development across their narrative. Prose is a more nuanced medium for demonstrating this than poetry, particularly the highly structured poetry of the ancient world. We can see this by looking at the main characters of our sedra.

Yitzchak is a more complex character than he is usually portrayed in Jewish commentary. He is usually seen as the link between Avraham and Yaakov, a man concerned with continuity and, in the kabbalistic (mystical) tradition, strict justice and inner strength. Yet we a see other sides to his personality hinted through wordplay. In the story of the Philistine king, Avimelekh, seeing Yitzchak engaged in some kind of sexual activity with his wife, Rivka (Rebecca), the word used in Hebrew is metzahek. This has the same three-letter word root as Yitzchak’s own name, the tz-h-k root indicating laughter (there is often the expectation with biblical characters that their names are in some sense prophetic and foreshadow their characters, particularly as Yitzchak’s name is given by God). With the initial letter mem usually indicating the projection of what is described in the following word, the use of this unusual term for sexual activity grounds it in the generous projection of laughter and play, distinct from the usual characterisations of Yitzchak and a rare example of the joy of sexuality in Tanakh, which is usually more focused on the potential for either procreation or violence inherent in sexuality. The similarity to Yitzchak’s own name perhaps suggests that he is “Yitzchaking,” that he is present as his true self in sexual play with his wife. [1]

This sense of Yitzchak being himself is different from his usual behavior, where he follows of his father’s actions, digging the same wells after the Philistines filled them in and even giving them the same names, as well as trying to pass his wife off as his sister and making a peace treaty with the Philistines, both actions that Avraham did first. Yet he engages in some new behavior too, planting crops (Avraham and later Yaakov were only shepherds, not farmers) and later blessing his sons, something Avraham pointedly refrained from doing. Clearly, Yitzchak is not the clone of his father that he is sometimes portrayed as, but rather someone in a living relationship with tradition, able to maintain continuity with what came before, but also to adapt it to his own needs and the needs of the moment.

Rivka (Rebecca) is also a complex character. She is frequently referred to as the sister of Lavan (Laban). There is an assumption in traditional Jewish Torah interpretation that identifying terms are not arbitrary, therefore by describing Rivka as the sister of Lavan, this is making us ponder their relationship in more than strictly biological terms. Just as Lavan will later try to deceive Yaakov, Rivka is a deceiver. However, while Lavan seems to cheat and deceive from choice, Rivka seems to cheat from a feeling of being unable to talk openly to her husband.

Rabbi Shlomo Riskin noted that when Rivka saw Yitzchak for the first time, she veiled herself. As veiling does not seem to have been a common practice in biblical times, this seems symbolic: she feels there is, or needs to be, a barrier between her and her husband. Perhaps this was because Yitzchak was the first child to be born to the covenantal family, while she was marrying in to it from a pagan family. Whatever the reason, rather than speak to Yitzchak directly to express her view that he should bless Yaakov instead of Esav, she encourages Yaakov, previously a “wholehearted man” (ish tam) to deceive his father. Even once the blessings have been given and she fears for Yaakov’s life, she gets Yitzchak to send Yaakov to her family by saying that she wants to ensure that he won’t marry a Canaanite, not because she is afraid Esav will kill him. Is she afraid Yitzchak will not hear evil of his favorite son? Or is she afraid to speak openly? Note also that she does not say that Yaakov should be sent to her family; she just stresses how disgusted she is with Esav’s Canaanite wives, knowing that Yitzchak will take the hint. Incidentally, it is unclear if anyone in the family other Yaakov ever learns that the blessing deception was Rivka’s idea.

Esav’s name is understood by the Medieval commentator Rashi (Hebrew acronym for Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki) as meaning done, completed (from the verb la’asot). Esav is a man of action, a hunter who likes to draw a line under things when he deems them to be finished and move on. It is a worldview that embraces his autonomy and control. This is a contrast to his brother.

Yaakov’s name, which can refer to a heel, like his brother’s heel that he clutched as they emerged from the womb, can also refer to the word because. It hints at a worldview where actions have consequences that we have to deal with, where one thing follows on the heels of another. More than any other figure in the Patriarchal narratives, Yaakov has to deal with the consequences of his actions, often over the long term, from taking his brother’s blessings to marrying the “wrong” wife, to favoring one son over the others. The shape of the narrative of the second half of the book of Bereshit is very much driven by Yaakov’s choices and their consequences. He often fails to heed the message of his own name and to consider what might emerge from his own actions.

Toldot presents us with a narrative driven by complex characters. The meaning of their names might foreshadow their future roles, but events are not presented as predetermined, as they might be in a pagan myth. Rather, as suggested by Robert Alter, the narrative is driven by the choices made by the characters, reflecting a monotheistic view of free will and consequential action. The consequences of these choices will drive the narrative as it unfolds in future sedrot.

[1] Note also that the same term, metzahek, which we have noted could be read as “Yitzchaking” is also the behaviour for which Yishmael (Ishmael) was banished earlier, the implication being that Yishmael was somehow trying to imitate Yitzchak and usurp his place.