19 These are the descendants of Isaac, Abraham’s son: Abraham was the father of Isaac, 20 and Isaac was forty years old when he married Rebekah, daughter of Bethuel the Aramean of Paddan-aram, sister of Laban the Aramean. 21 Isaac prayed to the Lord for his wife because she was barren, and the Lord granted his prayer, and his wife Rebekah conceived. 22 The children struggled together within her, and she said, “If it is to be this way, why do I live?” So she went to inquire of the Lord. 23 And the Lord said to her, “Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples born of you shall be divided; the one shall be stronger than the other; the elder shall serve the younger.” 24 When her time to give birth was at hand, there were twins in her womb. 25 The first came out red, all his body like a hairy mantle, so they named him Esau. 26 Afterward his brother came out, with his hand gripping Esau’s heel, so he was named Jacob. Isaac was sixty years old when she bore them. 27 When the boys grew up, Esau was a skillful hunter, a man of the field, while Jacob was a quiet man, living in tents. 28 Isaac loved Esau because he was fond of game, but Rebekah loved Jacob. 29 Once when Jacob was cooking a stew, Esau came in from the field, and he was famished. 30 Esau said to Jacob, “Let me eat some of that red stuff, for I am famished!” (Therefore he was called Edom.) 31 Jacob said, “First sell me your birthright.” 32 Esau said, “I am about to die; of what use is a birthright to me?” 33 Jacob said, “Swear to me first.” So he swore to him and sold his birthright to Jacob. 34 Then Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew, and he ate and drank and rose and went his way. Thus Esau despised his birthright.
Genesis 25:19-34 (NRSVUE)
The observation that “the descendants of Isaac” (Genesis 25:19) are also the descendants of Abraham might be factually redundant. One might note, “Obviously!” or “Duh!” From the perspective of toxic family dynamics and historical patterns, however, it is a theologically and politically loaded sentence. To evidence this, the essay deals with the context surrounding this text by exegeting an intergenerational narrative.
In asking what the toxicity of these actors and their descendants is, I have come to learn from clinical psychologist Alexandra Solomon that the term “toxic” “doesn’t really tell us much about what’s going on” and stops us from “being curious” about the dynamics of a relationship. I am thus deciding to take Solomon’s advice to be curious about the descendants of Abraham and Isaac, who are simultaneously also descendants of Rebekah and Sarah and Hagar to analyze some of the problematic dynamics and consequently consider some implications for contemporary familial and political contexts.
In other writing, I have noted how Abraham and Sarah are manipulative and racist in their treatment of Hagar and Ishmael. Sure, Hagar is celebrated for naming God as “One who sees” (Genesis 16:31), but it does not stop Sarah from hating Hagar or Abraham from driving Hagar away into the desert with her (and his!) son Ishmael. Relatedly, the biblical note that God chooses to make a covenant with Isaac and not Ishmael (Genesis 17:19-21) does not help redress Abraham’s and Sarah’s manipulation and racism towards Hagar and Ishmael.
The past might be past, but as the wise Maya Angelou reminds us, “when you know better, do better.” While the indictment of Abraham and Sarah is necessary, in this essay, I am more interested in what their descendants have inherited and continue to inherit and what they have made and continue to make of such an inheritance. I think of Abraham’s son, Isaac, for instance, who grew up with Ishmael as his older brother. Isaac and Ishmael must have played together a lot. After all, it is in the context of their shared play that we get a most contested verse. Some translations—the NIV and the KJV, for instance—of Genesis 21:9 render the verse as Ishmael “mocking” Isaac. The CEB notes that Ishmael was “laughing.” The NRSVUE simply says that Ishmael was “playing with her son Isaac.”
The contested translation of the verse offers readers a window into Sarah’s prejudice against Ishmael. The very next verse records Sarah telling Abraham, “The son of this slave woman shall not inherit along with my son Isaac” (Genesis 21:10). Seeing Isaac and Ishmael playing together evokes Sarah’s resentment regarding the possibility of their shared inheritance. Did the translators who used the word “mocking” rather than “laughing” or “playing” share Sarah’s resentment? It seems that Sarah’s existential resentment and the translators’ theological resentment based on dominant notions of covenant and inheritance unduly affect the translation of Genesis 21:9. It is almost as if the resentment enables a seeing of things that are simply not there, gaslighting readers into believing that playing and laughing were not just playing and laughing but “mocking.” There is further gaslighting in some biblical dictionaries that describe Ishmael as “rude,” a characterization that is not present anywhere in the Bible.
I wonder if such gaslighting also influenced Isaac’s perception? Did Sarah’s prejudice against Ishmael affect Isaac? Since there were no concrete walls back then, did the sound waves of Sarah’s bickering and gaslighting make their way into Isaac’s heart? Did he feel superior, or just a little better than? Did Isaac believe that he was the chosen one and not his half-brother Ishmael? Or, did Sarah not use words at all? Perhaps she made Isaac (not Ishmael) his favourite foods and gave him (and not Ishmael) a bigger portion of meat? Did she constantly misinterpret their shared playtime, leading Isaac to believe that his brother was rude and made a mockery out of Isaac and thus (legitimately?) got left out of the family inheritance? I invite readers to consider the full material implications of a “yes” response to all these questions. What kind of family dynamics would they have given rise to? How would toxicity feel like in those dynamics?
I’m not excluding the possibility that Isaac and Rebekah sought to break the unhealthy family dynamics they inherited. It is possible that they sat around the fire with their children, Esau and Jacob, recollecting the past and tracing fresh positive possibilities for a life together. While that is possible, given what transpired between Esau and Jacob as attested in the lectionary text, I believe that, ultimately, “the descendants of Isaac” (Genesis 25:19) were unable to break the cycle of toxic family dynamics and history. When Esau is famished and comes to Jacob for food, Jacob asks Esau to sell his birthright. Esau sells his birthright but feels cheated in what philosopher Shira Weiss calls “price gouging.” Esau is angered and intends to harm Jacob for the wrong he has done to him. In Genesis 27:41, Esau says, “I will kill my brother Jacob.”
Jacob flees and returns to meet Esau and they hug and weep. Nevertheless, following Rabbi Bayfield’s commentary on the text and its aftermath, it is important to exercise some suspicion about Esau and Jacob’s ultimate “reconciliation.” As Bayfield (79) notes, while the brothers do meet again and hug it out after the original conflict, “they go their separate ways never, according to the Hebrew Bible, to meet again.” Hence, my argument that ultimately “the descendants of Isaac” (Genesis 25:19) were unable to break the cycle of toxic family dynamics and history.
The parents don’t help this situation. The lectionary text records for us that the parents quite noticeably took sides and played favourites: “Isaac loved Esau” and “Rebekah loved Jacob” (Genesis 25:28). Should not Issac have known better about favouritism? After all, his father Abraham’s favouritism created an unnecessary rift between Isaac and his brother Ishmael. He had an opportunity to change that pattern in his own family. But he ends up reproducing the same dynamic.
Consider this problematic narrative: Ishmael was rude and was thus cast out. Isaac was chosen. Esau was greedy and thoughtless. Jacob was chosen. Ishmael hated Isaac. Esau hated Jacob. Now consider this alternative: Ishmael loved his brother. Isaac was gaslighted by his parents. Ishmael was cast out, but God saw him and his mother, Hagar, and saved them because no one is unchosen in God’s eyes. Esau was not thoughtless; he was simply hungry. Perhaps there was a missed opportunity to feed the hungry without using it as an opportunity for price gouging.
Breaking unhealthy and toxic patterns in relationships, whether it is in one’s particular family or the larger human family, is easier said than done. The long arc of history does not always and ultimately bend towards justice and prejudices are formed. And yet, there is hope in sincere intention and action. Before the hope emerges, however, toxic dynamics and problematic patterns in inherited histories need to be excavated, named, and redressed. This applies to both the lives of our sacred texts and our own lives.
