Wednesday, December 3, 2025

Standing at the Crossroads: The Isaac-Covenant Jew in an Age of Rising Hatred

A study of Parashat Vayishlach

 

We arrive at Parashat Vayishlach during a week — during an era — in which the Jewish people again find themselves standing at a frightening crossroads. Antisemitism is erupting across European capitals, college campuses, major American cities, and international institutions. Israel is slandered with the gravest accusations — “genocide,” “ethnic cleansing” — even as the world closes its eyes to the barbarism of Hamas, the complicity of large segments of Gaza’s population, and far worse atrocities taking place around the globe.

In moments like these, many Jews instinctively recoil. History has trained us to do so. Perhaps if we apologize more, soften our voice, retreat from the public square, and signal enough contrition, maybe the antisemites will leave us alone. Maybe the nations will look upon us more kindly.

But the Torah this week teaches the opposite.

Yaakov’s Strategy — Necessary Then, Dangerous Now

When Yaakov returns to face Esav, he prepares in three ways: tefillah, doron, and milchamah — prayer, appeasement, and readiness for battle. The appeasement was massive and deliberate; the deference was extreme. Yaakov bows again and again, calling Esav “my master,” lowering himself in a display that feels painful to read.

Chazal tell us (Bereishit Rabbah 75:3) that Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi would review Parashat Vayishlach before diplomatic meetings with Rome — because there are times in history when Jews had no choice but to placate the Esavs who held power over them.

But that is precisely the point:

That was then. That was the Jacob-Covenant era — a time of weakness, danger, and exile.

We, however, do not live in Jacob’s world.

The Isaac Covenant: A New Era of Jewish Self-Understanding

I refer the reader to my essays about the Isaac Covenant . They are based on the profound reading by Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch of Vayikra 26:42, which identifies our time as the dawning of what I call the Isaac Covenant.

The life of our Yaakov represents a time when he was forced to live subject to the cruelty of Eisav, Lavan, Pharaoh, and his other neighbors. The covenant with Yaakov included frightful times when the Jew was forced to crawling in the shadows of history, hiding from pogroms, appeasing feudal lords, and whispering “Ma Yofis” to gain a moment’s reprieve.1

Yitzchak’s life represents an era when the Jew was not subject to that subjugation. He was not universally loved — but he was respected. He was not a trickster or fugitive; he was prosperous, assertive, blessed, and openly acknowledged as such by his neighbors.

He was not a mayofisnik — a servile flatterer of the gentile overlord.

He stood upright.

And so must we.

We live in a time when the Jewish people have been granted unprecedented power, wealth, influence, and dignity — in America, in Europe, across the world — and above all, through the miracle of Medinat Yisrael, the first sovereign Jewish state in 2,000 years, all of its faults notwithstanding. To behave as if we are still trembling in a Polish shtetl is to betray the very gift Hashem placed in our hands.



It is true that there are dark clouds gathering, and things do not look as rosy as they did just a few years ago both in the Diaspora and in the international standing of Israel. But to think and pretend that we are still in the same Golus of the bad old days of Europe is a deep mistake. That was the era of the Jacob covenant. Today we live in the world of the Isaac Covenant.

An Isaac-Covenant Jew refuses to apologize for existing.

He refuses to bow because Esav is shouting.

He refuses to assume that the hatred of others must be his compass.

The World’s Hatred Is Not Our North Star

Let the Mamdanis of the world spew their venom. Let the propagandists, ideologues, and moral hypocrites twist reality. Their accusations tell us more about them than about us.

The Torah reminds us that hatred of the Jew has never been cured by Jewish self-erasure. It has never been softened by Jewish timidity. The nations who demanded that we whisper ma yofis never respected us for doing so. They merely learned they could demand more.

In fact, the Zohar (I 119a–119b) foresaw that before the final redemption, the children of Yishmael would rise in violent opposition to our return to the Land, igniting global conflicts that would reshape the world. 2

That is the story unfolding before our eyes.

The question is not whether they hate us.

The question is whether we will lose ourselves in their rage.

Parashat Vayishlach’s Charge for Today

When Yaakov bows before Esav, he does so because he must.
When Yitzchak stands tall before the Philistines, he does so because he can.
We live in Yitzchak’s time.

The call of the hour is not retreat, not apology, not self-abasement, but integrity, confidence, moral clarity, and unembarrassed Jewish strength. We are not guests in the world. We are not trespassers on history’s stage. We are Hashem’s covenantal people, living through a moment that demands courage.

And if we rise to that moment, the nations will react in the extraordinary manner of Avimelech:

וַיֹּאמְרוּ רָאוֹ רָאִינוּ כִּי־הָיָה ה' עִמָּךְ וַנֹּאמֶר תְּהִי־נָא אָלָה בֵּינוֹתֵינוּ בֵּינֵינוּ וּבֵינֶךָ וְנִכְרְתָה בְרִית עִמָּךְ

We have clearly seen that Hashem is with you… Let there now be an oath between us… and we shall make a covenant with you.

(Bereishit 26:28)

This is the destination of the Isaac Covenant. Stand tall, walk with Hashem, and the day will come when even our fiercest critics will be forced to admit the truth — willingly or otherwise.

A Closing Vision 

We are in the midst of a process — painful, turbulent, awe-inspiring — that is leading toward the triumph of Am Yisrael and the unfolding of redemption — the time of the Abraham Covenant (see referenced essay). But only if we grasp our moment with courage.
To live as an Isaac-Covenant Jew is to refuse to crawl back into the fearful posture of Yaakov before Esav. It is to recognize that Jewish dignity is not arrogance, but Avodas Hashem. It is to live with the confidence that Hashem’s promise is not theoretical but active, alive, and visible in our days.

This is not the time to bow. 
This is the time to build. 
This is the time to rise.

This is the time to walk in Yitzchak’s footsteps toward the world that is coming — the world of clarity, of justice, of Mashiach. 

And that world is closer than we think.