Even Israel’s fiercest foe held one redeeming virtue, teaching us sincerity, gratitude, and timeless parental honor.
Buried inside Parshat Toldot is a remarkable and easily overlooked detail:
When Rivka prepared Yaakov to approach his blind father and utter the fateful words “I am Eisav,” she dressed him in Eisav’s finest garments — ha’chamudot.
But these cherished clothes were not in Eisav’s home.
They were stored in Yitzchak and Rivka’s house.
Why?
Chazal uncover a profound truth:
Eisav excelled in one area — Kibbud Av, honoring his father.
Before entering Yitzchak’s presence, he would change into his most beloved outfit to greet him, even though Yitzchak was blind and could not see a thing.
This reveals two extraordinary lessons.
1️⃣ Real honor is sincere, not performative.
Eisav’s actions weren’t for show.
Yitzchak could not see the clothes.
There was no praise to earn, no points to collect, no image to project.
Eisav did it because he felt genuine gratitude to the father who brought him into the world.
Even amid their spiritual distance, even with deep ideological divides, Eisav wanted his father to feel his reverence — not through vision, but through presence and intention.
This is the essence of authentic Kibbud Av Va’Em:
We honor our parents not for approval, not for applause, but because without them, we simply would not exist.
This is why the mitzvah stands in the very center of the Aseret HaDibrot — the bridge between duties to God and duties to humanity.
2️⃣ Even Eisav—one of the Torah’s darkest personalities—had a point of greatness.
The Torah does not flatten people into one-dimensional villains.
Our sages remind us:
“Ein lecha adam she’ein lo sha’ah” — every person has a moment of greatness.
Even a broken clock is right twice a day.
Eisav, whose anger and spiritual failures shaped a destructive legacy, nevertheless possessed one shining trait: he honored his father with deep devotion.
From him we learn that no human being is devoid of goodness, and no trait should be dismissed simply because it comes from someone flawed.
A spark of virtue can be found even in those we view as adversaries.
And when the Torah pauses to show us Eisav’s goodness, it teaches us to cultivate our own — deliberately, gratefully, and sincerely.
