Toldot: Showing Up (In)Authentically for Blessing

Parashat Toldot challenges us deeply, calling us to wrestle with the complexities of family, identity, and truth. The story of Jacob and Esau — two brothers struggling from the womb to the end of their father Isaac’s life — resonates with painful honesty. This week, as we’ve read through the portion, we’ve followed Jacob as he disguises himself, wearing Esau’s identity to steal a blessing.

Isaac’s vision is dim, but his awareness isn’t gone. When Jacob approaches, cloaked in Esau’s furs, Isaac asks, “Who are you, my son?” Three times, Jacob responds with a lie, claiming Esau’s name as his own. Yet Isaac seems to sense the ruse, remarking, “The voice is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esau.”

The Vilna Gaon offers a powerful teaching here, noting a subtle textual shift: the word kol (voice) appears incomplete, missing the letter vav. It is a diminished voice — a Jacob not fully present, not speaking from his authentic self. It’s only later in Jacob’s story, after years of struggle and transformation, that he learns to stand as himself, earning the name Israel and stepping into wholeness.

What can we learn from this? Blessings, true blessings, cannot come from pretense. They are born from authenticity, from showing up as our full selves. And yet, how often do we, like Jacob, feel compelled to hide behind a disguise, to suppress parts of ourselves in the hope of gaining approval, love, or success?

Friends, this diminished voice — this missing vav — is not just Jacob’s. It is ours too. Today, as we mark another day of yearning, of fighting for the return of our family, we feel the ache of something missing. Our voice is not whole because our family is not whole. We are incomplete, and our blessing feels distant.

But the lesson of Jacob’s journey is one of hope. Wholeness is possible. We must keep doing the work — fighting, building, loving, and refusing to give up. This is the sacred labor of our lives: to reclaim what has been lost, to amplify our voices until the missing pieces are restored, until our kolot, our voices, are full and unbroken.

May we be blessed to find our way (back) to wholeness. May we be blessed to bring our family home. And may we learn to live authentically, to know that each of us, as we truly are, is enough.

Let our voices rise — not diminished, but full of hope, strength, and the promise of peace.

Shabbat Shalom.