The stories of our Avot are not simply accounts of events that took place thousands of years ago. They contain lessons for every generation. Sometimes the connection between the weekly parashah and the events of our own time is especially striking.
The timing this week could hardly be more exact. As we read Parashat Toldot, we learn about Esau selling the special rights and responsibilities that belonged to the firstborn. At this very same time, discussions and negotiations are taking place concerning the future of Torah learning and the arrangements for yeshiva students. The question raised by the parashah is therefore not merely an historical one. It is a question that confronts us today: What are we prepared to give up in order to obtain something that we urgently need?
The Torah tells us that Esau returned from the field exhausted and hungry. He saw that Jacob had prepared a pot of lentils and asked for some food. Jacob asked him to give up what belonged to him as the firstborn in exchange for the food. Esau agreed.
His words are striking:
“Behold, I am going to die; what use is the firstborn's privilege to me?" (Bereishit 25:32).
Esau was concerned with his immediate hunger. He could not see beyond the need of that moment. Something of lasting importance was exchanged for temporary relief. He treated something precious as though it had little value because he was under pressure and wanted an immediate answer to his problem.
This is the lesson we must take to heart.
There is no question that the present situation facing yeshiva students and their families is extremely difficult. Their distress is real and intolerable. It cannot be ignored, and it is not enough to tell families to continue bearing a situation that has become unbearable. Every genuine effort must be made to protect those who wish to continue learning Torah full time and to find a proper, practical arrangement that will allow them to do so.
But we must be careful. The urgency of one problem must not cause us to weaken other foundations of Torah life.
We must not find ourselves solving one serious difficulty by creating other difficulties that may be even harder to repair. Shabbat, kashrut, conversion, marriage, the halakhic status of a Jew, and the institutions responsible for preserving Torah and mitzvot are not bargaining chips. They are fundamental parts of Jewish life. We cannot agree to weaken them in order to obtain a temporary political or legislative advantage.
A solution for yeshiva students that comes at the expense of other essential parts of Torah life is not a complete solution. Our responsibility is to protect Torah as a whole.
We must not say that there is no other way.
The Torah itself teaches us how to approach difficult situations. The pasuk says:
“Ki vetachbulot ta'aseh milchamah, uteshuah berov yo'etz" - “For with wise counsel you shall wage war, and victory comes through an abundance of advisers" (Mishlei 24:6).
The words betachbulot ta'aseh milchamah teach us that difficult situations require thought, planning and careful advice. We must not simply repeat an approach that has not succeeded. If one path does not work, we must look for another. If one proposal is rejected, we must examine other possibilities. We must consult people with experience, consider different approaches and explore every legitimate option.
This is not a call for passivity, and it is certainly not a call to surrender. It is a call to act wisely.
The fact that a situation is urgent does not mean that the first offer placed before us must be accepted. Nor does the fact that negotiations are difficult mean that we have exhausted all possible solutions. We must not convince ourselves that there is no alternative simply because finding one requires more effort, patience and courage.
Our leaders and representatives have a great responsibility. They must not merely accept the choices placed before them. They must search for alternatives, seek advice and examine every legitimate course of action. Their duty is not simply to obtain an immediate agreement, but to find a solution that is genuine, workable and consistent with the Torah values they have been entrusted to protect.
A promise is not the same as a guarantee.
We must look carefully at what is actually being offered. A proposal that promises legislation in a year or eighteen months is not yet a law. An understanding reached today does not necessarily guarantee what will happen when circumstances change.
Even those who make promises may not be in a position to ensure that they will be kept. They may intend to honour their commitments, but they do not necessarily control the Knesset, the courts or every other body that may affect the final outcome. A political understanding cannot guarantee how the courts will interpret a law, whether a legal challenge will succeed, or whether a future change in circumstances will alter the situation.
We must therefore ask practical questions. Will there be enough support in the Knesset for the actual wording of the proposed law? Are those who promise to support it able to secure the necessary votes? Will the arrangement withstand legal challenges? What protection will exist in the meantime for yeshiva students and their families against arrests or sanctions? What happens if the promised legislation does not pass?
These are not minor details. They are central questions.
We must also consider the possibility that we may end up with the worst of both worlds: the proposed law concerning yeshiva students may not pass, while other legislation that weakens Jewish practices and the character of Jewish life does pass. We must not allow ourselves to be so focused on one promised achievement that we fail to consider what else may happen at the same time.
There is another point we must not overlook. We must judge people not only by what they say at the negotiating table today, but also by what they have said and stood for over time.
The prophet Yirmiyahu asks:
“הֲיַהֲפֹךְ כּוּשִׁי עוֹרוֹ וְנָמֵר חֲבַרְבֻּרֹתָיו?" (Yirmiyahu 13:23).
Can a Kushi change his skin, or a leopard its spots?
The meaning of this question is clear. Deeply held attitudes do not disappear overnight. People who have publicly expressed such serious hostility towards the Torah community, even going so far as to blame Haredim for the deaths of soldiers, do not suddenly change their outlook simply because they now wish to reach an agreement with us.
This does not mean that we cannot negotiate with people whose views differ from ours. Of course we can, and we must examine every serious possibility. But we must distinguish between an agreement on a particular matter and a genuine change of conviction. We must not deceive ourselves into believing that a change in circumstances necessarily means a change of heart.
We should judge an agreement by its actual terms, by the safeguards it contains and by the record of those making it. Promises must be tested against actions and established positions. We cannot build the future of Torah life on wishful thinking.
What must be secured must be secured beforehand.
There is another practical lesson that must not be overlooked. Any agreement intended to protect the future of Torah learning must, wherever possible, be reached and secured before a government is formed. It is not enough to receive assurances or promises. What is essential must be secured in advance, while the government is still being formed and those seeking support have a reason to make firm commitments.
We all know that political promises are not always kept. There is an old saying that promises are made to be broken. Once a government is established, circumstances change, priorities change, and those who made promises may no longer feel the same obligation to fulfil them. They may also be unable to guarantee how the Knesset, the courts or other authorities will act.
Therefore, we must ask a simple question:
What exactly has been secured before we agree to support the formation of a government?
If the necessary protections cannot be secured, we must not proceed on the strength of promises alone. And if the price of securing an arrangement for yeshiva students is the weakening or sacrifice of other religious obligations, then we cannot accept it. We cannot protect one part of Torah life by giving up another.
We must not first provide what is needed to establish a government and only afterwards discover that the promises made in return cannot be fulfilled.
Otherwise, we risk making the same mistake as Esau. Perhaps he thought that he was only giving up his rights for the moment, and that he would somehow be able to get them back later. But he discovered that what he had sold could not simply be recovered. We must not make the same mistake. Once we give away something essential in return for promises, we may find that we cannot get it back. That is why what must be protected has to be secured before we make any commitment.
Leadership means knowing what can be negotiated and what cannot.
Those entrusted with representing the Torah community must remember that their responsibility is not measured only by their influence, their position or their ability to achieve an immediate result. The desire to remain influential, or to secure a short-term gain, must never become more important than the principles they are meant to uphold.
There may be room for flexibility in the means we use. There must not be flexibility about the purpose itself. We can discuss, negotiate, reconsider and find new ways forward. But we cannot surrender the foundations of Torah life simply because the pressure of the moment is great.
The duty of leadership is not to tell the public that there is no choice. It is to search for choices, to examine them honestly and to have the courage to reject an arrangement that asks too high a price. Leaders must be willing to explain not only what they hope to achieve, but also what they cannot agree to give up.
We should not confuse influence with achievement, or an agreement with a solution. The true test is whether the outcome protects the people who need protection without damaging the Torah life that we are responsible for preserving.
Our efforts must be accompanied by Siyata Dishmaya.
The Torah does not teach us to sit back and wait for miracles. We must do our part, with intelligence, patience and sincerity. We must seek Siyata Dishmaya, help from Heaven, and act leshem Shamayim, for the sake of Heaven. We must have faith that Hashem can help us find a way forward, but that faith must go together with serious effort and responsible action.
We must not assume that because the situation is difficult, there is no way out. Nor should we assume that a solution which appears convenient today will necessarily be good for the future. We must make our best efforts, seek wise advice and ask Hashem to guide us.
There is also a wider lesson in the very name given to Sefer Bereishit. Chazal refer to Bereishit as Sefer HaYashar (Avodah Zarah 25a), the Book of the Upright. The Netziv, in his introduction to Ha'amek Davar, explains that this name reflects the upright conduct of our Avot in their dealings with other people, including those who did not share their beliefs. They acted with honesty, integrity and fairness.
This, too, is part of the inheritance they left us. We must remain faithful to our principles while dealing honestly and respectfully with others. We do not need to abandon our beliefs in order to negotiate, and we must not allow others to make use of our difficulties to persuade us to give up what is essential.
The story of Esau and Jacob is therefore very relevant to our time. Esau saw only the hunger of the moment. He did not give proper value to what he was giving up. We must not make the same mistake.
The difficulties facing yeshiva students and their families demand urgent attention. We must work tirelessly to find a proper solution. We must not accept the intolerable as though it were a virtue. We need leaders who will think creatively, consult widely, examine every possibility and act with determination.
But we must do so without weakening Shabbat, kashrut, conversion, marriage, the halachic status of the Jewish people or the institutions that safeguard Torah life. We must not exchange one essential part of our Torah way of life for a promise that may never become reality.
The Torah we received from our Avot is not something that belongs only to us. It is a precious inheritance and a responsibility that we must pass on to our children and grandchildren. We have no right to treat it as something that can be exchanged for temporary comfort, political promises or an immediate advantage.
We must be wise in our negotiations, determined in our efforts and faithful to our principles. We must explore every legitimate possibility, but we must never forget what is at stake.
Esau believed that his immediate hunger was more important than what he was giving up. We must learn from his mistake. Our present difficulties are real, but they do not make the foundations of Torah life any less precious.
We must find a way to meet today's needs without giving up what matters most. We must not exchange it for a bowl of lentils.