I looked around the synagogue to gauge the reactions of other congregants. Nothing. The storm inherent in what the Rabbi had just admitted was obviously lost on the room. Certainly not on me. “We typically dismiss Esau as evil personified, but if he were alive today, we would see just how great he truly was!” the Rabbi declared from his pulpit. “Esau’s problem was inconsistency. He would treat his father with the utmost respect, even engaging in spirited halachic debates. But away from his father he was a brute.” he continued. O.K, so this wasn’t the unearthing of another set of Dead Sea Scrolls, but it was something. Whether knowingly or unconsciously, the Rabbi was advocating a more textured analysis of biblical characters. It was a liberating departure from the overly simplified portrayals that I'm used to. Personalities like Esau, who has essentially become a clichéd caricature akin to a Bond Villain. This never made any sense to me and the Rabbi’s words were vindicating. Nobody is, nor ever has been one-dimensional. People are complex, layered and almost always inconsistent. Esau may have been a brute but he loved his dad and provided for him—and his brother too. He also respected his father's religious beliefs regardless of not embracing them himself. For a brute, those are some pretty human qualities. Conversely the beloved Jacob is lionized in spite of lying to his father, stealing a crucial blessing and taking advantage of his brother. Still, he remains one of the bible’s out-and-out “good guys” while Esau is one of its most notorious lowlifes. As is the case with most texts, there’s much to learn outside of literal interpretations. I don’t have to believe in a talking snakes, fire-resistant bushes, or a giant boat filled with two of every living specie on earth in order to extract valuable lessons from the bible. And I certainly don’t need to embrace the notion of absolute good vs. evil to appreciate those lessons either. I’m sure there were days when Moses woke up on the wrong side of the...whatever it was that he slept on, and forgot his "pleases and thank yous". That doesn’t detract from his merits as a great leader. It makes him human, floored like the rest of us and most importantly, relatable. The misconception about religious education is that Jewish continuity is dependant upon absolutism. The fear being that if people analyze characters and events without using the prescribed broad strokes, a slippery slope will follow. The great irony about absolutism is that it alienates as many people as it inspires, for if I cannot relate to any of the characters in the bible, and if their existence was on a completely different spiritual level to mine, then they’re as sanctified as they are irrelevant.
