Toldot: The Tension Between Short and Long Term Goals—Then and Now

Most of us have both short-term and long-term goals in life. Whether in finances, work, home, and our personal well-being, there are things we would like to achieve now and other things we would like to achieve down the road.

Sometimes, however, there is tension between our short-term and long-term goals. For example, we may have to take a job that does not answer our present needs but that helps advance our long-term goals, and we may avoid purchasing certain things in the present so that we will have sufficient resources for more important things in the future. Conversely, sometimes we will do things that serve our desires and interests in the present that may put our long-term needs at risk. I believe that this tension is what underlies the exchange between Jacob and Esau described at the beginning of this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Toldot.

The Torah tells us that once, when Esau—the firstborn—came home from the field he was famished. He saw that Jacob, his younger brother, was preparing a delectable red lentil stew and he asked him for some. Rather than merely share it, Jacob decided to exploit his brother’s desperation in order to gain what he thought that an accident of birth had denied him, the firstborn’s inheritance rights. In other words, Jacob tried to entice Esau with short-term pleasure in exchange for long-term benefits. Shockingly, Esau succumbed to this temptation and, as if to highlight his impulsiveness and poor judgment, the Torah says, “he ate and drank, he rose and went away. Thus did Esau spurn the birthright” (Genesis 25:34). The fact that Jacob emerged with the birthright in exchange for lentil stew is a lesson to us, his descendants, that we too should be prepared to forego short-term gains in order to achieve our long-term goals and aspirations.

For over a year, the residents of many communities in northern Israel had to evacuate their homes because of the ongoing Hezbollah attacks. Nevertheless, despite the hardship of living as refugees in their own country, most of them supported the IDF’s military campaign against Hezbollah because they knew it was the only way to ensure their long-term well-being. Despite the risk to their lives, and despite the loss of comrades in combat, the IDF soldiers fought valiantly in the knowledge that sometimes that is the price to be paid so that their compatriots can live in their homes in safety and security. While there is, understandably, a great deal of skepticism about the terms of the recent ceasefire deal and about whether it will prevent Hezbollah from re-arming in the future, at least there were defined goals against which we will be able to assess success or failure.

Unfortunately, that does not seem to be the case in Gaza. At the moment, Israel’s leaders do not appear to have any clearly defined military goals. Is it to about returning the hostages? If so, what is the plan for the day after we bring them home hopefully soon? Will that mark the end to the war, or will hostilities continue until we have achieved that elusive and, according to military analysts, unattainable goal of “total victory”? Perhaps the goal is to establish long-term military rule in Gaza or even to encourage the resettlement of northern Gaza by Jews, or perhaps it is about prolonging the war as much as possible in order to avoid accountability and a commission of inquiry into the failures of October 7.

In the absence of clearly defined, agreed upon, and achievable military goals for the war in Gaza, then the price we are being asked to pay, especially if it includes the loss of more of our soldiers, is a price far too difficult to bear. And those who are responsible for such unconscionable and unforgiveable results will have to shoulder the blame, and live with the guilt, until their very dying day.