I recently learned about an Afghani that served as an interpreter for the American military. After a while, he was captured by Taliban-affiliated militiamen and told that he had a choice to either serve as a double agent or die. He offered to acquiesce to their demands. The next day, realizing his end was near if he stayed in Afghanistan, he donned a burka and – disguised as a woman – smuggled himself out of Afghanistan. Only in the safety of England did he remove his cover.
That act of deception likely saved his life. Yes, he misrepresented himself, but it was for valid cause.
So, where do we draw the line on deception? When is it acceptable? When have we bended the rules of representation too far?
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In this week’s parsha, Toldot, Yaakov (Jacob) – the younger son of Yitzchak (Isaac) and Rivka (Rebecca) – receives his father’s blessings instead of his brother Eisav (Esau). At his mother’s urging, Yaakov dons his brother’s clothing and pretends to be Eisav. His father, virtually blind, feels and smells his son and gives Yaakov the blessings.
Yaakov clearly stretched the rules to get the blessings. But, which ends justify the means? Is it acceptable for Yaakov to become Eisav, even momentarily?
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Imagine, for a moment, what Yaakov must have felt like. The sweet and sensitive Yaakov donning the garments of a hunter. And for what? Just to get blessings for material bounty? Of what value are these blessings to the pious scholar Yaakov?
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This week I am fortunate to spend among thousands of my fellow Shluchim at the annual Chabad Lubavitch Shluchim Conference. A Shliach is an emissary. There are, to date, over 4000 Shluchim families around the world. My friends live in places like Cyprus, Czech Republic, Russia, Brazil and Arkansas. They speak different languages, eat different foods, play different sports and live in different climates. Yet, joining together in New York, we are one cohesive unit. We do not struggle to become one. We are one.
You see, no matter where we are, we remain connected to our source. We are, at heart, all the same. We may wear different clothing in order to be more effective in sharing the beauty of Yiddishkeit to a rabid soccer fan, to a college student and to a Wall Street executive. Our values remain unchanged.
This is the beauty of the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s vision. He recognized that – like Yaakov – we must at times don garments that do not truly reflect our essence. They are not completely contrary to who we are, but they may be foreign to our core.
Certainly, Yaakov was uncomfortable in Eisav’s clothing. But he recognized that the material domain (the blessings of the “dew of the earth”), must also be governed by the ethos of Yaakov, and not Eisav’s hazardous crudeness.
We too must at times don the attire of the world around us, while remembering that we are Yaakov, not Eisav.
Will we allow ourselves to become who we are dressed up as? Will we sacrifice our values?
Or will we always remember that it’s just a costume?