But the real question which begs to be asked: Jacob is described in the opening of our Biblical portion as “a whole-hearted (Hebrew tam, also means naïve) person, a (studious) dweller in tents” (Gen. 25:27). How can such a disingenuous personality declare to his old blind father, “I am Esau, your first –born son” – and for what appears to be in order to gain material blessings?! The classical commentary Rashi, attempting to ameliorate the force of the blatant lie which emerged from Jacob’s lips, suggests that Jacob responded to his father’s query as to who was standing before him with the words, “It is I”, Esau is your first-born son” (27:19, apparently drawing for support from the cantillation - trope. Clearly this is a rather forced interpretation of the words, emanating from the inconsistency of the deception with Jacob’s character as the Bible has just described it.

I believe that between the words and lines of the Bible, we are being taught here a most profound lesson concerning fathers and sons, parents and children. The character and identity of the individual is forged by his/her genetic make-up and environment, nature and nurture. It is crucial that each of us attempt to recognize, understand and accept the inner core of our essential being, be true to ourselves and express who we are with all of the integrity we can muster. (As Shakespeare’s Polonius declared, “But this above all else: to thine own self be true”). And this is the fundamental meaning of the central commandment in the Bible, “You must love your neighbor like (you love) yourself” (Leviticus 19:18), the obvious corollary being that everyone must first develop and love him/herself before he/she can reach out to love the other.

But how do we learn to love ourselves? From the very fact that those who are most important to us from our very birth – our mothers and fathers – show that they love us, that they consider us loveable, worthy of being loved. This feeling of affection that we receive unconditionally from our parents creates within us a bank account of love from which we can draw to give to others. Woe unto that individual who has not received such love deposits from parents during his/her most formative years; it will be difficult at best for such a person to truly develop him/herself and to give love to others.

The family tragedy, the split between the twin brothers which resulted in Jacob’s having to flee for his very life, began with the boldly stated reality, “And Isaac loved Esau since his hunt (Esau’s venison meant) was in his mouth; and Rebecca loves Jacob” (25:28). This is stated – and probably felt by the main players in the story – after their respective basic character traits are delineated. Esau the man who knows how to trap (animals, and perhaps also people, the former with weapons, the latter with smooth, sweet talk), the man of the fields, and Jacob the whole –hearted man, the dweller in tents.

Especially in the Biblical patriarchal society, every son yearns for his father’s love and acceptance – a gift which was given to Esau but withheld from Jacob. And the very next verse following the description of parental love and lack thereof seems to be a non sequiter: “And Jacob potted up a pot (of red lentil pottage)” which he agrees to sell to tired hungry Esau in exchange for their father’s birthright (25:29-34). The holy Ohr HaHaim (R. Haim Ibn Attar, 19th century, ad loc) suggests that Jacob cooked the pottage for his father; once he saw that Esau earned his father’s love by preparing red venison meat for him, Jacob imitates Esau in the best way he is able: by making a red pottage soup for the patriarch. The Bible is thereby reporting that Father Isaac’s rebuff made Jacob want desperately to be Esau-like, to re-make his identity from that of a naïve introspective student to that of a more sophisticated and aggressive purveyor of goods and sources. Perhaps such a metamorphous would enable him to finally feel his father’s favor.

Once we understand this, Rebecca’s suggestion that Jacob dress in Esau’s garb, bring his father Esau’s venison, declare himself to be Esau is precisely what Jacob yearns to do and who Jacob yearns to be: he wants to be Esau. The birthright is almost secondary, it serves as the tangible expression of the paternal love he so lacks but which he so desires. Of course Jacob resolutely responds, “I am Esau your first-born”. He is now seeking to repress his rejected, whole-hearted, studious identity and to assume a new, out-doors and aggressive Esau – like identity. No wonder he answers his father’s query without batting an eyelash.