There is a moment in Rachel Simon's haunting "The Story of Beautiful Girl," when a widow lies and becomes a new person, a hero. A young developmentally disabled woman, "Beautiful Girl," and the deaf "Number Forty-Two," escape the School for the Incurable and Feebleminded and find refuge in the farmhouse of Martha. Beautiful Girl has just given birth to a girl. When the police charge the house to capture the couple, Martha hides the baby, and raises her as she runs from one city to another until the child, Julia, is an adult. The childless, quiet and unassuming schoolteacher, calls on her students to help her keep the child out of the terrifying institution. Her devoted students help uncover the horrible abuses taking place at the School and save the abused inmates. This is a tale of a Beautiful Lie that saves lives and transforms the liar into a better person. This is a Beautiful Lie that we naturally justify.
We are told that Jacob's lie, when he, at Rebecca's instruction, pretends to be Esau to steal Isaac's blessing is a Beautiful Lie. Jacob saves the Jewish people and is transformed into a stronger man. We are taught the story so that our natural inclination is to justify Jacob's action as a Beautiful Lie. The Zohar magically weaves this Beautiful Lie into the story of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, when we wrap ourselves in the clothes of Esau and claim God's blessing.
However, upon closer look, the Zohar's reading is not of a lie to others, but an acknowledgement of the way we lie to ourselves. The Beauty is not in the lie, but in the willingness to look at ourselves and realize how we garb ourselves in clothes of righteousness, justifying our actions, believing that, to be the only way we can receive God's blessing. Jacob was not deceiving Isaac; he was willingly showing his father that he too wore the clothes of Esau. Rebecca believed that Isaac decided to bless Esau because Jacob the righteous was hiding his ghosts. Jacob was living the lie of being beautiful even after he forced Esau to sell the birthright. He had to make himself beautiful to his father by honestly acknowledging that he, too, wore the clothes of Esau. Perhaps Jacob wondered whether his previous role as, "A man of perfection, dwelling in tents," was a lie, a pretense. He had chosen a role that was inconsistent with his heart. That lie was not Beautiful. There was no justification. Jacob became beautiful only when he dressed himself in Esau's clothes.
Our widow, Martha, discovers new strengths as she steps out of the role of the acquiescent woman, wife, and citizen, that she played for the first seven decades of her life. The real lie was not when she hid the baby, but the way she lived for 68 years, inconsistent with her desires and being. That lie was not Beautiful. There was no justification.
A student once told me that he remained in Yeshiva for fifteen years after graduating high school because he wanted to become what he was "supposed to," someone who loved studying Talmud. He wanted to become someone he was not. He was lying to himself, putting his life on hold rather than see himself as he was. His lie was not Beautiful. There was no justification.
"Then Esau perceived that the daughters of Canaan were evil in the eyes of Isaac, his father. So Esau went to Yishmael and took Mahalath, the daughter of Yishmael son of Abraham... as a wife for himself (Genesis 28:8-9)." Esau's reaction to the Jacob story is to lie, and pretend to be a righteous man. This is Esau's evil: He believes that we can live a lie, that we can pretend to be righteous and good, that we can live in a manner inconsistent with our hearts and souls. That is never a beautiful lie. There is no justification.
We find our beauty only when we see ourselves with our imperfections, as we are. We are beautiful before God, not when we stand before Him with our convictions and certainties, but with our struggles and questions. We discover our beauty when we strip away the clothes of righteousness in which we dress to assume roles that will fool others and ourselves. We are beautiful even when dressed in the clothes of Esau, the desires we fear, the garments we desperately want to hide so that we will not have to face ourselves as we are. When we are willing to look in the mirror even as we wear the clothes of Esau, we become beautiful. No justification is necessary.
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         Rabbi Simcha Weinberg, The Foundation Stone,
We are told that Jacob's lie, when he, at Rebecca's instruction, pretends to be Esau to steal Isaac's blessing is a Beautiful Lie. Jacob saves the Jewish people and is transformed into a stronger man. We are taught the story so that our natural inclination is to justify Jacob's action as a Beautiful Lie. The Zohar magically weaves this Beautiful Lie into the story of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, when we wrap ourselves in the clothes of Esau and claim God's blessing.
However, upon closer look, the Zohar's reading is not of a lie to others, but an acknowledgement of the way we lie to ourselves. The Beauty is not in the lie, but in the willingness to look at ourselves and realize how we garb ourselves in clothes of righteousness, justifying our actions, believing that, to be the only way we can receive God's blessing. Jacob was not deceiving Isaac; he was willingly showing his father that he too wore the clothes of Esau. Rebecca believed that Isaac decided to bless Esau because Jacob the righteous was hiding his ghosts. Jacob was living the lie of being beautiful even after he forced Esau to sell the birthright. He had to make himself beautiful to his father by honestly acknowledging that he, too, wore the clothes of Esau. Perhaps Jacob wondered whether his previous role as, "A man of perfection, dwelling in tents," was a lie, a pretense. He had chosen a role that was inconsistent with his heart. That lie was not Beautiful. There was no justification. Jacob became beautiful only when he dressed himself in Esau's clothes.
Our widow, Martha, discovers new strengths as she steps out of the role of the acquiescent woman, wife, and citizen, that she played for the first seven decades of her life. The real lie was not when she hid the baby, but the way she lived for 68 years, inconsistent with her desires and being. That lie was not Beautiful. There was no justification.
A student once told me that he remained in Yeshiva for fifteen years after graduating high school because he wanted to become what he was "supposed to," someone who loved studying Talmud. He wanted to become someone he was not. He was lying to himself, putting his life on hold rather than see himself as he was. His lie was not Beautiful. There was no justification.
"Then Esau perceived that the daughters of Canaan were evil in the eyes of Isaac, his father. So Esau went to Yishmael and took Mahalath, the daughter of Yishmael son of Abraham... as a wife for himself (Genesis 28:8-9)." Esau's reaction to the Jacob story is to lie, and pretend to be a righteous man. This is Esau's evil: He believes that we can live a lie, that we can pretend to be righteous and good, that we can live in a manner inconsistent with our hearts and souls. That is never a beautiful lie. There is no justification.
We find our beauty only when we see ourselves with our imperfections, as we are. We are beautiful before God, not when we stand before Him with our convictions and certainties, but with our struggles and questions. We discover our beauty when we strip away the clothes of righteousness in which we dress to assume roles that will fool others and ourselves. We are beautiful even when dressed in the clothes of Esau, the desires we fear, the garments we desperately want to hide so that we will not have to face ourselves as we are. When we are willing to look in the mirror even as we wear the clothes of Esau, we become beautiful. No justification is necessary.
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         Rabbi Simcha Weinberg, The Foundation Stone,