Originally published in the Jewish Journal · Table for Five
It’s 1904. Little Berel the Jew had a little too much to drink at the inn. Suddenly, he jumps on the table and yells, “We Jews are tougher than you Russians.”
“Why’s that?” yells Ivan, amused at the pipsqueak.
“We resist hunting for sport.”
“Resist?” roars Ivan, laughing. “We don’t let you own guns!”
Who is tougher, Esau or Jacob? Esau is “a man who knew hunting, a man of the field.” He obeys no boundaries, no limits on his appetite, as he roams the field. He trades his birthright for lunch.
Jacob’s the scholar in the tent. The Hebrew calls him an ish tam: a whole man. It’s the same word describing Job’s upright perfection, and what Moshe exhorts the nation of Israel to be (tamim) in its relationship to God. While his twin ran rampant in the field, Jacob preserved the covenant, developed integrity, mastered appetite, pursued the life of the mind, and submitted to the restraints of law.
Jacob’s and Berel’s heirs created a land where now Jews own guns aplenty. Jacob’s tent is well-guarded by a population of very well-armed Jews, including the reservist pushing her baby at the SuperSol market with a Glock on her hip and the kid with tefillin and the Tavor rifle.
Even in the face of barbarity and appetite for revenge, and though they must hunt those who continue to murder Jews, their army still aspires to and encodes boundaries on appetite and morality. This is the strength of tamim.
