December 2, 2024|א' כסלו ה' אלפים תשפ"ה The Meaning of Exhaustion: Esav and the Jew By Rabbi Jonathan Muskat

Last Sunday afternoon, Yael and I hosted a birthday party for our granddaughter Sophia, who turned seven. At two o’clock, thirty little girls filled every nook and cranny of our house. There was face painting, tie-dye shirt making, cupcake decorating, pencil case designing, a piñata, and a cake. I even led a round of Simon Says. And that all lasted about five minutes—because, as you know, the attention span of seven-year-old girls isn’t very long. Baruch Hashem, the children were entertained, received their goodie bags and prizes, and then left. After cleaning up the entire house and the deck, I collapsed onto the couch and announced, “I am exhausted.”

The grandparents in the shul know exactly what I mean—whether after hosting children and grandchildren for Shabbat, Yom Tov, or Thanksgiving, we all know the feeling of collapsing onto the nearest couch and announcing our exhaustion after it’s all over. And the families with young children know exactly what I mean, each and every day.

But this time, when I proclaimed my exhaustion—as if anyone cared—it got me thinking. I was reminded of Michal Elon, who shared her heroic story in our shul a few weeks ago of how she and her family miraculously survived the October 7th attacks at the Zikim army base. When asked about the mood in Israel, she said that the overwhelming feeling now is sheer exhaustion. That comment put my own exhaustion into perspective. It made me think about the tenuous ceasefire between Israel and Hezbollah and wonder: how much has Israel’s exhaustion from war played a role in this ceasefire? Is that exhaustion a good thing?

That led me to reflect on exhaustion in general, which often gets a negative reputation in the Torah. The classic example is Esav, who was described as עייף, exhausted. He tells Yaakov, הלעיטני נא מן האדום האדום הזה כי עייף אנכי—"Pour me some of that red stuff, because I am exhausted." The Torah emphasizes this twice, first narrating that Esav was tired and then having him declare it himself. Why does the Torah do this? Imagine that you were reading a story. And you read the following: “Jim was angry. And Jim told Jane, “I am angry.”” Or you read, “Jane was very happy. And she told Jim, “I am very happy.”” Why do both the narrator of the story and the character in the story need to tell us how they are feeling? Does the Torah want to convey to us that not only was Esav tired, but he was someone who was in touch with his emotions and knew that he was tired? Or is it to suggest something deeper?

After all, עייף  doesn’t merely mean “tired.” If Esav were simply tired, he’d have collapsed onto a couch. But that’s not what he does. He demands food. What exactly is going on? 

Rav Soloveitchik explains that Esav is described as an איש שדה, a man of the field. Such a person desires abundance, prosperity, and mastery over others. This is reflected in the blessings Yitzchak intended for him: מטל השמים ומשמני הארץ—the dew of heaven and the fat of the land—and יודוך עמים וישתחוו לך לאומים—nations shall serve you, and peoples shall bow to you.

The איש שדה  wants everything—power, fame, wealth—and this all-consuming desire defines Esav’s personality. To achieve his goals, he becomes an איש יודע ציד, a hunter, competing to capture his prey. But more than that, he becomes ציד בפיו, a deceiver. The Torah depicts his relentless, instinct-driven lifestyle through five consecutive verbs: ויאכל וישת ויקם וילך ויבז—he ate, drank, rose, went, and despised, the latter verb referring to the birthright. Esav acted without thought or reflection, consumed by his desires, until he became utterly עייף—physically and emotionally drained, with no room for anything deeper in life.

The only other time the Torah uses the termעייף  is in the description of Amalek’s attack on Bnei Yisrael in the desert: ואתה עייף ויגע ולא ירא אלוקים—“You were weary and faint and did not fear God.” Here too, exhaustion is linked to a preoccupation with material needs, a lack of water, to the exclusion of spiritual awareness.

Yet, not all exhaustion is bad. The Gemara in Masechet Sanhedrin (94b) teaches: אין נמסר עם עייף בתורה ביד מי המציק לו—“A nation weary from Torah study is not delivered into the hands of its oppressors.” Exhaustion can be virtuous if it results from pursuing meaningful goals, such as Torah study, spiritual growth, or acts of kindness. We are meant to work hard and even grow weary in the service of higher values.

The problem with Esav wasn’t his exhaustion, but its source—his unrestrained pursuit of materialism and power. God doesn’t want us to live like Esav, consumed by fleeting desires. Instead, He calls us to lose ourselves in noble pursuits: Torah, family, helping others, and protecting our people. Exhaustion from these efforts isn’t something to resist but to embrace as a sign of meaningful labor.

Our brothers and sisters in Israel are exhausted today after months of fighting to protect their homeland. While heartbreaking, it is also profoundly inspiring. Their weariness comes from the most noble of goals: ensuring a home for the Jewish people.

As we reflect on Israel’s recent decision to implement a ceasefire, we hope it was guided by rational thought and sound reasoning, rather than a lack of clarity stemming from national exhaustion. We recognize that there are differing opinions about the wisdom of this decision, but we pray that it will lead to greater safety and security for Israel’s citizens, enable the evacuees from northern Israel to return to their homes, and eventually pave the way for a deal to bring the hostages in Gaza back to their families.

Unlike Esav, who sold his future for a bowl of lentils, we have a place to turn when we are weary. Each morning, we turn to God and recite the blessing הנותן ליעף כח—“Who gives strength to the weary.” If we direct our efforts toward divine values, God will grant us the strength to persevere. The next time you feel exhausted, maybe think about why you are exhausted, and if it’s a result of your divine values, then give yourself a pat on the back, because that’s why you were created. May we continue to work hard and even grow weary—not all the time, but some of the time—for all the right reasons.