Rabbi Shmuel Rabinowitz, Rabbi of the Western Wall and Holy Sites
Throughout the history of the world, a profound struggle has been waged between two opposing worldviews, each leading the individual and humanity as a whole toward entirely different destinations. On one side stands the path of our forefather Jacob, representing the spiritual world, faith in the Creator of the universe, and devotion to the laws of the holy Torah. On the other stands the path of Esau, expressing an intense attraction to materialism, the pleasures of this world, and physical desires – to the point of being swept away by them without restraint.
This is a struggle that touches the very foundations of human existence: Is a person meant to live in connection with a world of values and meaning, which gives life direction and purpose, or should one simply enjoy the material world and the immediate gratification it offers?
In light of this struggle, a fundamental question arises: If the Holy One, blessed be He, created the world and brought forth the nation of Israel through our forefather Isaac and our matriarch Rebecca, how did two sons emerge from them who seemingly represented such opposing paths? A deeper examination of the parasha teaches us that the reality is more complex.
The parasha opens with the words:
“These are the generations of Isaac.”
(Genesis 25:19)
Rashi explains: “These are Jacob and Esau, who are mentioned in the parasha.”
At first glance, Rashi’s words raise a question. The identities of Isaac’s sons are explicitly stated in the Torah itself, and the text will go on to describe their births and life stories in great detail. Why did Rashi find it necessary to explain that Isaac’s descendants were Jacob and Esau, something every reader already knows?
It would seem that his words contain a deeper meaning, one that relates to the shared destiny that could have been theirs.
Esau was not born to be Jacob’s opposite, nor was he originally destined to represent a world disconnected from holiness. He, too, could have been a partner in fulfilling the purpose for which he was born to Isaac and Rebecca. It was only the way he chose to use his strengths that distanced him from that destiny.
To understand this, we must examine the two complementary paths of serving God.
King David presents the fundamental demand of every person in the Book of Psalms (34:15): “Turn from evil and do good.” It is not enough for a person to refrain from evil, just as it is not enough to engage in doing good without struggling against the forces that distance one from holiness. True perfection emerges from the combination of these two movements: removing evil on the one hand, and adding goodness on the other.
The Slonimer Rebbe z”l, author of Netivot Shalom, explains that these two movements were meant to be embodied by Isaac’s two sons. Jacob was destined to continue his father’s path through the attribute of “doing good” – by studying Torah, observing the commandments, and adding holiness to the world.
Esau, by contrast, was destined to carry forward Isaac’s attribute of strength and discipline, expressing his service of God through the principle of “turning from evil” – overcoming the forces of evil, subduing one’s impulses, and placing the material world under the dominion of the spirit.
Had Esau fulfilled his role properly, he could have been a partner in completing the spiritual mission of Isaac’s household, with each brother contributing his own unique part to the rectification of the world.
The two paths were meant to complement one another and form a single, unified process: Esau would clear the way of evil, and Jacob would fill it with goodness. But when Esau abandoned his destiny and chose a path disconnected from the role entrusted to him, the original division of responsibilities could no longer be sustained. Jacob was required to carry the entire mission alone, and the tension between the two brothers became an ongoing struggle over the nature of the world and the way in which the spiritual and material realms would be brought together.
This explains the Midrashic teaching that the twelve tribes were meant to emerge equally from Jacob and Esau, with six tribes from each. They were not two worlds destined to remain disconnected from one another, but two forces that were meant to participate in a single process. Once Esau deviated from the path, however, the task of rectifying the world remained on the shoulders of Jacob and his children, and the struggle to complete this mission has continued throughout the generations.
This struggle will end only when the light of the Messiah begins to shine, and the verse will be fulfilled (Obadiah 1:21): “And saviors will ascend Mount Zion to judge the mountain of Esau.”
The struggle between Jacob and Esau is eternal because they were created together and shared their mother’s womb. They are twins, drawing from the same single source of human strength. And when there is only one force, there is only one way to continue Isaac’s legacy. They have two possibilities: either to cooperate in continuing Isaac’s path, or to fight one another over what that path should be. The struggle is over the one and only path.
These teachings show us that we must choose a side. In the reality in which we live, we are obligated to remain faithful to the path of Jacob, the only path that will lead the world toward its ultimate redemption.
The path taken by modern Western civilizations – seeking only to remove evil – is proving to be without purpose, and ultimately, it only serves to increase evil itself.
Choosing Jacob’s path means refusing to settle for fighting evil alone. It means actively working to add goodness, to build a world of meaning, and to establish human life upon firm spiritual and moral foundations.
This is the path through which the world can advance toward its ultimate rectification. It is also the gateway to complete redemption, when evil will not merely be pushed aside, but goodness will continue to spread in its place, and humanity will rediscover its true purpose.
