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Judaism's "Flawed" Role Models 

Before he passed away in February 2014, my mentor, Rabbi Joseph Ehrenkranz, shared a profound insight with me regarding why he believed the Torah is based on truth.

"The characters we read about are so flawed," he said. "While the heroes of many other religions are depicted as perfect, ours are not. There is no reason to describe them this way, unless it is to touch on the truth within each of us.

It's true: almost all of Judaism's biblical figures demonstrate significant faults. Adam was a blamer. Noah was concerned only about himself and his family. Abraham often backed away from conflict, remaining passive on two occasions when other men took his wife Sarah into their courts.

Sarah let her husband sleep with another woman, and then hated her for it.  Jacob, who betrayed his brother and deceived his father, ran from his problems. Joseph was arrogant, and tattled on his brothers. Moses was prone to temper tantrums. Miriam and Aaron gossiped. Rebecca masterminded deceit. David sexually manipulated others, and the list goes on.

It is therefore one of the most brilliant features of the Torah that, by tracking the initial flaws of our most sacred characters, we in turn learn to face and overcome our own imperfections.

This week's Torah portion, Toldot (Generations), is a case in point. It is the story of a dysfunctional family worthy of HBO.

After twenty childless years, Rebecca conceives twins. The Torah describes Rebecca's difficult pregnancy, as her two future sons "struggle inside her." God describes "two nations in your womb," and -- as often is the case in the Torah -- "the elder will serve the younger." (Genesis 25:23)

Esau is the first to arrive. He is covered with red hair. He will grow up to be a hunter, providing meat to the family. And Isaac likes him best.

Meanwhile, Jacob, who enters the world holding Esau's heel, becomes the tent dweller. He becomes Rebecca's favorite.

Indeed, as we review our holy Biblical text, we need to ask ourselves: How is it possible that a text as sacred and instructive as the Torah promotes the model of one parent favoring one over the other?

Does this ever lead to good? How many families today are plagued by sibling rivalry? How many brothers and sisters today are on "non-speaking terms?" And more to the point, how many of these rivalries stem from one parent appearing to favor one child over another?

As we review these texts today, we are reminded of how notto raise children. Indeed, each child bears unique talents. As the Kabbalah, our mystical tradition, teaches, each one of us is born with a phenomenal skill to contribute to the repair of this broken world.

But each of us also possesses flaws which, hopefully, we learn to confront and resolve over the course of our lifetimes.

Indeed, each parent, then and today, by loving the precious gifts they have received from God, must not only love each child equally, but appear to do so.

As parents, Isaac and Rebecca fail this test.

Later in the Parashah, it is the elder, Esau, who is victimized by a conspiracy. Jacob, dressed in fur, and upon the coaxing of his mother Rebecca, impersonates Esau and steals his father's blessing. It's a tale of dishonesty, deception, and manipulation.

What does this say about the love and communication that married couples should share as they raise their children? Why was it that Isaac and Rebecca, who earlier in the Torah are depicted as passionate lovers, pit their own children against each other?

The Torah describes Isaac as blind. This is true on many levels.

Finally, we learn of Esau's rage after learning that he has been duped. In response, Jacob acts in a most unbiblical manner: he flees like a coward.

In the end, most of these Biblical vignettes are resolved. Many biblical characters revisit their flaws, and ultimately adopt a more wise and responsible personal path.

As so, as Rabbi Ehrenkranz noted, herein lays the Torah's inherent truth. Our biblical characters enter the world flawed. They commit interpersonal errors, often in their youth, or as a result of impaired awareness.

It is a lesson for us to learn from.

We live with the faults of others, just as they live with ours. Often, we project our imperfections on others, when what we actually see in them is a reflection of our own faults.

Jealousy. Rivalry. Favoritism. Greed. Impatience. Lack of respect. Broken communication. Gossip. Anger. These are the ingredients which exist in each of our lives.

Sometimes these flaws, when confronted and resolved, can jettison us to increased understanding. Other times they can combine to create a distasteful stew.

It is why this week's Torah portion is both disturbing and inspiring. While so many of our biblical characters are imperfect, they represent truths about each of us.

If, as the Vilna Gaon (1720-1797) suggested, the purpose of life is to elevate ourselves into something better, we can thank our biblical ancestors for inspiring us by example, to explore the defects which plague each of us.

There is an ancient Aramaic prayer which we recite each Shabbat before removing the Torah from the ark. It reads, "Not upon mortals do we rely, not upon angels do we depend, but upon the God of the universe, the God of truth, whose Torah is truth...."

I love the Torah because it tells truths. Our role models are not always perfect. They do not walk on water. But more importantly, they teach us by example to expose and explore those tendencies and characteristics which we struggle with.

Indeed, the Torah is sometimes messy, upsetting, and confusing. Just like life.

And that's the truth.

Shabbat Shalom, v'kol tuv.

Rabbi Irwin Huberman