Friday, December 13, 2019

Parashat Vayishlach


Shabbat Shalom! This week’s Torah portion is Parashat Vayishlach, in which Jacob and Esau are reunited. The brothers haven’t seen each other since Jacob stole Esau’s blessing and cheated him out of his birthright. Esau had little reaction to trading his birthright (material inheritance) but was very hurt and angry about learning Jacob had stolen his blessing (spiritual inheritance). He threatened to kill Jacob and Jacob ran away. We don’t really know what happens with Isaac, Rebecca, and Esau in the time between throughout the latter half of Parashat Toldot, after Jacob runs away. The story continues to follow Jacob, and we see him falling in love with Rachel, marrying Leah, marrying Rachel, amassing healthy flocks of sheep, amassing children, and just generally being quite blessed indeed with the things that were considered marks of success at that time.
A few years ago, I wrote a drash on Parashat Toldot about how Esau reminded me of Rubeus Hagrid from the Harry Potter series. Last year, when I was totally bit by the Harry Potter bug in the run up to our Fantastic Beasts event, I was excited to reprise, but for some reason I can’t remember now we didn’t have services or I didn’t give the drash on Shabbat Toldot. But, some of the thought process still works for Parashat Vayishlach, and in the run up for Sunday’s redeemable villains event.
You see, in the Harry Potter series, Hagrid is described as massive, hairy, of ruddy-complexion, and intimidating. He’s never described as a villain, per-se but it’s clear that many other characters in the books believe him to have a sinister past, think his fascination with magical creatures is dangerous, are afraid of his size, and so on. When we first meet him at the beginning of the series, he is not allowed to use magic and is relegated to being the groundskeeper at Hogwarts due to his expulsion from the school during his own teenage years. We find out in Book Two it’s because he was framed for opening the Chamber of Secrets, and when the real culprit is found out and Hagrid is allowed his magic back and a job at Hogwarts, the true nasty characters like the Malfoys try to get Hagrid fired and sent to prison for endangering students again! We see him through the eyes of Harry, Hermione, and Ron, who keep their faith in him and know it’s only because his heart is too big that he gets himself into these scrapes, not because he is trying to hurt people.
In the Torah, Esau is described as large, hairy, of ruddy-complexion, and a fearsome hunter. He is depicted as a villain throughout classical rabbinic texts, and we are made to believe that his skills as a hunter translate to him being bloodthirsty, violent, and eager to kill humans as well. Our tradition justifies the trickery of Jacob and the devastating favoritism of their mother, and victim-blames Esau at every turn. If hunting makes Esau so terrible, then why do any sympathetic Biblical characters eat meat? How could Isaac be justified in asking his son for some game, if Esau is not justified in going out and killing the animal? Why is it so wrong for Esau to be impulsive and easily distracted while it is praiseworthy that Jacob is calculating and manipulative? My teacher, Dr. Ora Horn-Prouser posits that Esau had ADHD, which means Jacob totally took advantage of his brother’s learning disorder and the rest of the family, including all their descendants through the millennia were like, “Yea that sounds fair.” Esau is a classic villain in deep need of redemption. His anguish after the blessing trickery rings out loud and clear when he cries, “Have you no blessing left for me, Father?”
Flash forward to this week’s parasha. Jacob is still terrified that Esau wants to kill him. He separates his camp, in case they are attacked, so that his whole family and flock will not be wiped out. He also sends emissaries ahead toward where he hears Esau is coming from, to bring Esau gifts, peace offerings, and reparations. When the morning comes that they are to reunite, Jacob has his largest sons walk at the front of their entourage with him, as a show of force. Esau, on the other hand, walks alongside his wives. He falls upon his brother in embrace, and he is eager to introduce Jacob to his family. He also has gifts for Jacob, and the two families have a lovely afternoon together. Then they go their separate ways, and we don’t seem to ever hear from Esau’s clan again. There is a general belief that the Edomites that the Israelites later encounter are Esau’s descendants, and the prevailing Rabbinic metaphor for the early Christian Church is Esau, but we never see Esau and the twelve sons never seem to encounter their first cousins again.
Esau is no villain. He is a misunderstood man. He is easily judged by his large and gruff appearance, and his clearly justified anger is depicted as unreasonable and violent. Jacob may be our direct ancestor, and the man whom God clearly favored, but he’s also a deeply problematic hero. In fact, like all good anti-heroes, he devolves more as time goes on. At first, he is his mother’s pawn and a simple young sibling trickster. But he goes on to play the same favoritism with his children, with disastrous results; he turns a blind eye to both his daughter’s assault and the resulting genocide his sons commit in her name; he buries his beloved Rachel hastily on the side of the road instead of bringing her to Machpelah where his family is buried, where he and Leah will eventually be buried. He’s no Walter White, but he does have a noticeable decline in his behaviors.
On Sunday we will look at the Maccabees and others from our traditions through this lens as well. In the meantime, I encourage you to start thinking about all the characters in our Holy Texts and folklore, and consider who has been treated as hero and who as villain. On Sunday, we will try to put ourselves into these stories. If you were an unbiased third party bystander, how do you think you would judge the situation? What if you were Esau’s wife, or an assimilated Hellenistic Jew, or a Canaanite living in Jericho? You might feel differently about these stories than how the rabbis have traditionally taught us to feel.
May we remember to look outside ourselves and look at situations through all perspectives. May we remember that rarely are people wholly bad or wholly good, and almost all conflicts are much more complex than they may appear at first glance. May we remember to reach out peace offerings and reparations to redeem the villains in our lives, redeeming ourselves in the process as well. Amen and Shabbat Shalom.