Parashat Toledot introduces us to Esau, one of the most maligned figures in rabbinic Judaism. In a Dvar Torah about the role of Esau in the Torah, Chancellor Ismar Schorsch argues that the rabbis engaged in consistent “misreading” when interpreting the key events in Esau’s life, attributing evil intent and actions that cannot be found when reading the Torah contextually. Schorsch writes:
“ The rabbis consistently failed to muster any sympathy for Esau, even though the Torah does...In the midrash, Esau can do no right and Jacob no wrong...What the rabbis did to Esau is a striking instance of misreading born of love and need” (Ismar Schorsch, Dvar Torah: Parshat Vayishlakh, Chancellor’s Parashah Commentary: Jewish Theological Seminary, 1993).
Schorsch’s use of the term “misreading” regarding how the rabbis understand Esau’s role in the Torah is a harsh critique of much Torah scholarship, a critique with which I happen to agree. At the same time, I wonder if we might find some kind of meaning through the process by which these commentators arrived at their perspective on how Esau’s role in the Torah should be read.
From the moment I began studying the Parashat HaShavua, I was troubled by the overt hostility displayed towards Esau by Rashi, considered the medieval Torah commentator par excellance. While Rashi offers critical commentaries on Esau at numerous points in his Torah commentary, two examples from Parashat Toledot stand out as particularly egregious. Famously, when the Torah states “Isaac loved Esau for trapping was in his mouth” (Genesis 25:28), Rashi argues that Esau manipulated his father by assuming a phony posture of piety:
“Isaac loved Esau for trapping was in his mouth”: “To ensnare and to deceive his father with his mouth. He would ask him, “Father how do we tithe salt and straw?” His father would be under the impression that Esau was meticulous about commandment” (Rashi on Genesis 25:28).
According to Rashi, Isaac only favored Esau because his eldest son pretended to be righteous, when, as Rashi will argue, Esau is actually the paragon of wickedness. Immediately following this comment in the Torah, we read about the famous scene where Esau sells the birthright to Jacob for a bowl of lentil soup. Commenting on the Torah’s statement that Esau “was exhausted” from coming back from the field (Genesis 25:29), Rashi states that Esau’s exhaustion stems “From murdering” (Rashi on Genesis 25:29). Time and after time, given the opportunity to criticize Esau, Rashi finds a commentary that paints Esau in a most unflattering light.
Rashi’s hostility to Esau is not ignored by modern scholars, who argue that understanding Rashi’s context allows us to find meaning in his approach. In his magnificent biography of Rashi, Avraham Grossman argues that,
“...Rashi’s intense hostility to Esau, which pervades his commentary on the Torah, can be understood only against the background of his hostility to Christianity, of which Esau is the pre-eminent symbol. From the wealth of rabbinic midrashim, Rashi selected those that Esau of all the acts regarded by the Jewish tradition as cardinal sins, including idolatry, illicit sexual relations, and bloodshed” (Avraham Grossman, Rashi, 101).
Grossman argues that Esau functioned for Rashi as a symbol of all those who oppressed or would oppress the Jewish people. As result, because Rashi witnessed horrible acts perpetrated against the Jewish people by people who claim to be acting in the name of God, Rashi felt it necessary to use his commentary as a means of conveying the message that those oppressing the Jewish people descended from an original biblical villain, connecting Esau’s evil acts in the biblical past to Rashi’s world in his present.
Expanding upon Grossman’s analysis, Elie Wiesel writes in Rashi: A Portrait that one cannot ignore the emotional impact the horrific anti-Jewish violence during this time period had on Rashi’s psyche. Wiesel writes:
“The forced “disputations in the royal courts and cathedrals, the violent anti-Semitic propaganda that resulted from these, the preparations for the first Crusade whose victims included Rashi’s disciples and friends, surely influenced his conception of the world. Was it his reaction to those events that were to leave traces of fire and blood in the Jewish memory forever after? Did he ever forgive Esau whose descendents--in Rome, according to him--bore down on the Jews whose tragic destiny was supposed to be proof that God had changed his chosen people?” (Elie Wiesel, Rashi: A Portrait, 24).
Grossman and Wiesel both identify the fact that it is difficult, if not impossible, for Rashi to disconnect himself from his context, and thus his Torah’s commentaries about Esau reflect the prism through which Rashi saw his world. By extension, as readers of the Torah-text, when we read Rashi’s commentaries about Esau, we cannot limit ourselves to analyzing what these commentaries say about Esau, but what these commentaries say about Rashi.
Upon reading these analyses of Rashi’s commentaries about Esau, it would be easy to dismiss what Rashi writes as merely the biased portrayal of a biblical character by a commentator with a not-so-hidden agenda. At the same time, because Rashi is considered by many to be our greatest medieval Torah commentator (and rightfully so), the fact that even he wrote his Torah commentary within a context tells us something important about how we study Torah today. When our children look at the weekly parasha, it is easy for them to keep their world outside of the conversation, for fear that this world is not “appropriate” for Torah study. However, Rashi’s example teaches us that we always read the Torah in a context, and acknowledging that context opens up a space for rich and meaningful learning. All the rest is commentary...go and study.
Shabbat Shalom!
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