Our Sages tell us (Berachos 18b), "the wicked are called "dead" even in their lifetime, and the righteous are called "alive" even when they are dead." Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler explains that by not employing the gifts given to man that distinguish him from the animal kingdom, he will be unable to connect to his neshama, and therefore unable to elevate himself spiritually (which is, of course, our mission in this world.) Therefore, not bonding with one's soul is equivalent to death, and hence, the wicked are dead even when they are physically alive in this world. There is no greater expression of this than in this week's Parsha. When Esav stumbles in, exhausted from a day of hunting, he asked Yaakov for the red stew he was cooking. Yaakov responds that Esav would first have to sell him the rights of the first born. Esav replies, "Look - I am going to die, so of what use is a birthright to me?" With Rabbi Dessler's above explanation, one could suggest that Esav was referring to his choice of direction in life. He had chosen to die spiritually; he was uninterested in being connected to his soul and therefore of what use was the role and potential of being the first born. Esav died alive.
We can reflect upon this a bit further. The paragraph concludes, "And Esav belittled the birthright." Rabbi Yitzchak Hutner explains that as a general rule every individual is naturally endowed with certain spiritual talents and qualities. If he does not appreciate them he will lose them. The most famous example is of Esav belittling his first-born rights. Both he and Yishmael had certain natural spiritual talents inherited from their parents. Had they properly appreciated them and used them responsibly, they would have been great people. Instead they belittled and saw no value in acting upon them, thereby losing that holy heritage forever. After Yaakov, however, any rejection of these great spiritual qualities by his descendants became impossible. Why? How could it be that there should be an exception to this general rule?
Rav Hutner offers two answers. First, when a Jew does not seem to appreciate his heritage, it is not intentional. He is unaware of its existence. What lies hidden only manifests itself during hard circumstances when as a result of the crisis he will take on a vow in order to merit a salvation. If things do not proceed as desired, a Jew will nevertheless fulfill his commitment, demonstrating an inner commitment that previously had not existed in the open.
A second answer is that the average Jew never fully understands or appreciates the spiritual endowment that was imprinted upon his heart. Therefore he does not have the right to permanently reject his heritage; it will remain within him forever.
Rav Hutner continues that with the above we can answer a certain difficulty that arises from a classification by the Rabbeinu Yona. Rabbeinu Yona teaches that one of the lower levels of repentance is repentance resulting from an incident of personal sorrow. The example he gives is Yiftach who asks the elders, "Why do you show up only now when there is a crisis and you need me?" How could it be then that the verse in Devarim tells us that at the "end of days" we will return to G-d because of pain and sorrow? Could it be that our final repentance will not be of the highest in quality!?
The answer is that G-d only uses pain and sorrow to reveal the true essence and spiritual connection that lies in the heart of every Jew. As explained earlier, one example is when taking a personal vow during a time of hardship in order to merit a positive outcome; a Jew will follow through on that commitment despite a negative result. That is the true nature of the descendants of Yaakov. We will never abandon our commitment to G-d. At the end of days, moments of pain will only reveal the G-dliness that lies within us and therefore we will merit the final redemption. May we know of no more pain, and no longer need to demonstrate that the Jewish people will remain alive forever.
