blogs/rabbi-huberman

Love Each Child Equally

I have a friend, a colleague of Orthodox background, who has a dream.

It is his hope that one day he can open a center of learning in Jerusalem, near the Western Wall, which will teach students some of the great stories, teachings, and practices within our tradition.

This is the first part of his dream.

Students will also spend part of their day learning how to fix broken water pipes, how to kick a soccer ball, how to be become better parents and more loving partners. At his Yeshiva, they will also learn a trade.

I love this dream. It speaks to the importance of not only acquiring knowledge, but applying it. 

In the words of Pirkei Avot, our ancient collection of rabbinical sayings, Ein Komach, Ein Torah: "Without bread, there is no Torah."  

It means that "the pursuit of knowledge for the sake of knowledge" does not fulfill us.  It is incumbent upon us to apply our natural gifts to the betterment of humanity.

In this week's Torah portion, the balance-and the tension-between the Jewish identities of thinker and laborer come to light as the moment arrives for the third Jewish generation to be born.

Rebecca becomes pregnant, and senses that there are two nations struggling within her. She gives birth to twins. The first to enter the world is the hairy Essav, who will spend his adult life outdoors, "a skillful hunter."

On his heel emerges Jacob, "a mild man who stayed in camp."  The Jewish tradition has it that Jacob remained in his tent during the day and studied Torah. 

One day, Essav returns famished from the forest. Jacob suggests a trade to the starving Essav: a bowl of lentil stew, in return for the family birthright, which fell to Essav by right as the eldest son.

Essav accepts the offer, and forfeits his rights to the family lands and assets to Jacob. This is later confirmed as the blind Isaac blesses Jacob-dressed in Essav's clothes. 

In this way, the future of the Jewish people-descended from this studious, mild mannered patriarch-is confirmed.

Over the centuries, our Sages have found little fault with Jacob's deception, which was, after all, perpetrated with the assistance of his mother Rebecca.

For much of Western history, hunters and workers of the land have been held in low esteem. Judaism in particular has traditionally favored thinkers, philosophers, teachers, rhetoricians, and moralists over those who labor with their hands.

More recently, however, scholars have begun to reassess the Essav story.  Without hunters, how would we satisfy our communal appetite for meat? Without farmers, where would we acquire fruit, vegetables and grain we need for satiety and health?

And without those who use their hands, or perform their work outdoors, how do potholes get fixed, trash removed, or our pipes and electrical wires installed or repaired?

Without our health, our shelter, our physical comfort, philosophy and moralizing become not only impossible, but meaningless.

What is the most disturbing about this week's Torah portion is the revelation that Isaac and Rebecca each, evidently, favored one child above the other. Isaac liked Essav best because the elder son supplied his father with meat; Rebecca embraced Jacob because of his mild nature.

The difficulty many of us have with this story is our understandable recoiling at the idea that a parent would favor one child over another. 

Each child with whom God has gifted us possesses unique skills. Each child offers a specific gift to this world.  Each deserves to be embraced for who they are, whether or not they meet our needs or expectations.

Yet, as we learn repeatedly learn, the Jewish figures in the Book of Genesis possess flaws, and this enables us, by examining their journeys, to become better parents, friends, and human beings.  

None of our matriarchs and patriarchs is perfect, but they struggle to overcome their imperfections and like us, develop into better human beings.

It is puzzling, then, that within Jewish tradition we so often fail to embrace the sanctity of manual labor.  There are brilliant organizations such as the Workman's Circle which even today promote workers' rights, and social causes.

But in terms of scripture and rabbinical interpretation, Jewish culture has skewed towards favoring cerebral pursuits, and this bias arguably goes too far.

Maimonides, who lived more than eight hundred years ago, railed against those who study all day, while contributing little to humanity:

"Anyone who makes up his mind to study Torah and does not work but lives on charity, profanes the name of God and disgraces the Torah....Torah study which is not combined with work must at length fail....such a person robs his fellow man."

In many areas of the Jewish world, this trend continues.

Essav and Jacob deserved to be loved equally by their parents. Each brought their best to this world. Jacob was the planner, and Essav was the doer. Together they could have combined to perform great deeds.

Instead they were divided. 

Maybe someday, my friend will achieve his dream: that within our scholarly tradition, students will study a bit less and do a lot more. Scholars in many of our classic seminaries need to acquire a trade, learn to throw a curveball, become more supportive partners, and, yes, better parents.

As the Kabbalistic tradition teaches us, thought is meaningless without action. Action without thought, too, is futile, and often dangerous.

If only Isaac and Rebecca could have embraced both their children, who knows what they might have accomplished together?

It is a message to us to love all of our children unconditionally, ensuring that that no child feels unloved or left behind.

Ultimately, when Essav realizes that his father has provided his primary blessing to Isaac, his heart breaks. 

"Have you but one blessing, Father? Bless me too," says Essav. 

And the Torah tells us, "Essav wept aloud."

We are told that Essav's descending nations would be by nature violent and resentful -- perhaps because the blessing from their father was an afterthought.

Indeed, each of our children is a blessing. There is room enough in our hearts for everyone. Our capacity to love and bless is endless.

If God can provide us with so many blessings, then we, created in God's image, can do the same.

May we be inspired, as we look into the eyes of our children, to count our blessings, and realize the blessings within each.

For each child, each life is precious in God's sight.

And so may it be for us.

Shabbat shalom, v'kol tuv (with all goodness)

Rabbi Irwin Huberman