by Eliezer Shore
. . . and Rebecca his wife conceived. And the children struggled within her; and she said, If it be so, why am I thus? and she went to inquire of the L-rd. And the L-rd said to her, Two nations are in thy womb, and two peoples shall be separated from they bowels; and the one people shall be stronger than the other; and the elder shall serve the younger.
Jacob and Esau were twins, but not identical; their roles in the world were meant to be complimentary. "And Esau was a hunter, a man of the field; and Jacob was a simple man, a dweller in tents" (Genesis 25). In its typically concise way, the Torah alludes here to two different world views. Jacob is the contemplative, the mystic, separate from the world and devoted to the inner life. The tents that he dwelt in, according to the Midrash, were the ancient mystery schools of the Middle East. He is simple as only one attached to the innermost spark of divinity can be. Kabbalistically, Jacob represents the attribute of truth, as the verse says, "Give truth to Jacob" (Micah 7). He is the seeker of G-d and unity. Esau, on the other hand, was a hunter and man of the field. His was the exterior world, the world of action and accomplishment. The very name "Esau" is derived from the Hebrew word "to do." Just as Jacob's goal was to reveal G-d's presence in the world of spirit, so Esau's was to reveal it in the world of action. Together, Jacob and Esau were to uplift all creation to its source, and use all existence as a sacrament to the Almighty. So too, the inner world of peace should find its twin in the outer world of action, just as the Oneness of G-d should find expression in the diversity of creation. This joint role is alluded to in the verse, "The voice is the voice of Jacob and the hands are the hands of Esau" (Genesis 27). Jacob is the voice of study and prayer, Esau the hands of purpose and action. But, according to the tradition, Esau fell, and the world that he should have uplifted, pulled him down instead. This is the danger for all who step out of the strict bounds of holiness and try and reveal G-d's presence in the low places. He had a great spirit, perhaps even greater than Jacob's he was the firstborn but instead of being a partner to the soul, he became its antagonist. Likewise, on the personal level, when the outer world becomes divorced from the inner vision, life becomes devoid of true meaning, and the most superficial attractions take on an insistent reality. When the physical is antagonistic to the spirit, there is scarcely a move one can make towards holiness without having to contend with the lower cravings, the constant voice of Esau, "Feed me from that red, red stuff" (Genesis 25). In light of Esau's fall, Jacob's role now becomes different; instead of working with his brother, he must steal the birthright for himself. The sages of the Jewish tradition see Jacob and Esau as universal forces in conflict: the soul against the body, good versus evil, revelation against concealment. The two can never exist on the same plane. "When this one falls, the other one rises," the Talmud says about the culture of faith versus the culture of paganism. This is the conflict of Torah and idolatry; of the worship of G-d, or the worship of the self. The Torah embodies a spiritual path that seeks to bring all creation into an enlightened relationship with G-d. In its unredeemed state, the world conceals the Divine Presence; it is the "garments of Esau" (Genesis 27). Yet, according to Kabbalah, within each element of creation is a spark of holiness. Through the performance of mitzvot the commandments the will of G-d is drawn out of concealment. The mitzvot, which apply to every area in life, utilize the energies of creation to reveal G-d presence in every moment and place. Through this, the Torah unites the inner Will with the outer garment, allowing the point of truth to shine through the voice of Jacob through the garments of Esau. The Midrash refers to the Torah as the "blueprint" of creation, implying that when the plans are carefully followed, the intention of the original Designer becomes apparent. This is alluded to in the mystical concept of the "first-born," that was at the heart of the conflict between Jacob and Esau. Just as the firstborn child represents the father's initial creative act, so too, G-d's "first-born" is the initial emanation of creation, still in perfect harmony with the divine plan. In as much as every aspect of reality contains a spark of divine will, it has an aspect of "firstborness." Thus, Israel, whose task it is to reveal this will in the world, are referred to as "Israel, My firstborn" (Exodus 4). The practice of Torah, as with all genuine spiritual paths, requires a willingness to surrender, to put aside one's own understanding of reality and align oneself with a Higher Will. This is the essence of true worship. In doing so, we come to reflect G-d's will spontaneously, and to serve Him with our every action. "Make your will like His," says the Talmud, "that He may make His will like yours." In the language of mysticism, we become G-d's "twin." On the verse: "Open to Me, My sister, My love, My dove, My undefiled," (Song of Songs 4), the Midrash comments, "Do not read the word as 'my undefiled,' rather, read it as 'my twin.'" By fulfilling the role of Jacob, the simple man, the undefiled, we become G-d's "twin"; perfect vessels for the revelation of His unity in creation. In contrast to this is the sin of idolatry, which stands in opposition to entire Torah. Judaism is absolute in its monotheistic vision. "Thou shalt have no other gods beside Me," begins the Second Commandment. "Thou shalt not make for thyself any carved idol, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth below, or that is in the water beneath the earth: thou shalt not bow down to them, nor serve them" (Exodus 20). Nothing must stand between G-d and man; even conceptualizing the Divine is included in this prohibition. Maimonidies, the great Medieval philosopher, wrote that it is impossible to make any positive statement about G-d, His true nature being totally beyond creation's ability to grasp. We can only describe Him by what He is not: He is not limited, He is not corporeal. The mystics take this a step further and prohibit any statement whatsoever about G-d's Being. One can only face the Divine Reality with silence. "Be silent before Him, all the earth" (Habakkuk 2). Classic Jewish sources identify idolatry as an intrinsic propensity of the human consciousness, not merely an form of pagan ritual. It is a process in which the psyche, in an attempt to access ultimate reality, projects a static image onto the Infinite that creates as a channel for drawing down material and spiritual fulfillment. Slowly, the outer vessel becomes divorced from the inner truth and the idol becomes a focus of worship in itself. This image, however, is only a reflection of the self, and often manifests its darkest and most hedonistic inclinations. Judaism understands that any conceptual system, even one not overtly religious, in which the ego defines itself as absolute, can be termed idolatrous. The idolater would define ultimate reality in his own terms, and for his own benefit. Ultimately, it is the projection and worship of the self. Whereas, in an act of true worship, we become G-d's twin, the idolater seeks to reduce G-d to his own. When Jacob and Esau struggled in Rebecca's womb, Esau at the door to the temple and Jacob at the entrance to the study hall, each was seeking his true twin. It is a struggle that continues in the heart of every human being. We seek our twin, at times that is G-d, at times our own ego. It is a struggle that can be won only through sacrifice, spiritual work, and the most unbending commitment to one's innermost sense of truth. But in the end, Jacob will be victorious, for the Torah affirms the ultimate triumph of the spirit, of light over darkness and true worship over falsehood. Then, "a redeemer will go up Mount Zion, to judge the Mount of Esau, and the Kingdom will be the L-rd's" (Obadiah 1).
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