"Put the Money in Their Bags"

A great "Yosef" - Rabbi Joseph Grunblatt - passed away last Shabbos. His funeral took place on Sunday and the hespedim are available for viewing here. His passing is a true loss to the Jewish people. An incredible rabbi, talmid chochom, humble and magnanimous. תנצבה.

Parshat Miketz

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Book collectors often have many books on their shelves that never move from their place. But sometimes it is the thin volume you never look at that contains gems of insight and wisdom.

            

In recent years I have found this to be true of a book I purchased when I was in yeshiva. The author is Yeshayahu Moleyoff (not sure how that is spelled in English), and it is one volume on Bereshit – I don't even know if he has more – called "Meotzarot Bereshit." The book seems to be self-published.

            

He asks the following question: Why did Yosef give the money back to his brothers both times they purchased food?

            

For a very long time I thought Yosef was underhandedly doing what anyone in his position would likely do for family. "I don't need your money. Please. It's on me." Because even if Yosef didn't want to reveal himself until he had uncovered what he needed to find out about them, perhaps he did not feel the need to overburden his father financially when he (Yosef) didn't need the money, and presumably, particularly on account of the famine, his father needed every penny he had.

            

The question can be strengthened when we consider that most commentaries who address this issue focus on the "how" and not the "why." He put the money in – perhaps by displacing some food, forcing them to come back sooner. He put the money in the bottom of all bags, except for Levi's, in whose bag the money was placed on top. Levi, after all, was lost without Shimon, his partner in crime, and any feeling of fear over discovering the money would be felt by Levi first. This is by design.

            

Of course, these two approaches - to return the money graciously versus to "get them" - contradict one another, and Yeshayahu Moleyeff notes that even if Yosef had the first thought in mind (to kindly return the money he did not need) there is no way he did not anticipate the kind of reaction his brothers had: they would be fearful and feel something afoul over discovering the money they thought they had paid back in their bags.

            

He therefore suggests that Yosef was trying to deliver a subtle message to the brothers both times. First when they had lost Shimon, and when they were going to get Binyamin. And second, when Binyamin's bag was set up as the guilty one containing Yosef's cup.

            

That message was one of "Midah k'neged midah" – measure for measure.

            

They had received money over the purchase of Yosef as a slave, and they were now receiving money when Shimon was left behind as a slave and when the signs were pointing to the possibility that Binyamin might become a slave as well.

            

More poignantly, if things did not pan out well, they were all on the brink of becoming slaves themselves. They come to this recognition themselves in 43:18 and even offer themselves as slaves at the end of the parsha, when Yosef threatens to take Binyamin as a slave.

            

Midah K'neged Midah, therefore, is the running theme here. Yosef is not looking to make his brothers slaves. It is enough that he has seen them bow (in fulfillment of his dreams), that he knows the power he holds, and that they are willingly accepting his kingship over them. It is only that he wants to see how they will react when the circumstances themselves are set up all over again. When they see money being handed to them in exchange for their efforts to bring Binyamin down to Egypt. When they see money being handed to them when Binyamin is being set up to be arrested for stealing from the king.

            

In 42:21 they lamented not that they had sold Yosef – they still thought they were in the right in doing so. (This is a much longer discussion.) But they lamented how they had ignored his screams, and had dealt with him coldly.

            

In essence, Yosef set the stage as best he could to mirror what had taken place 22 years earlier. A young, innocent, son of Rachel was going to be placed in the precarious brink of becoming a slave to Egypt forever. The money has been exchanged, the boy is helpless and guilty in the eyes of those judging him, and it is up to the brothers to demonstrate compassion. To look out for their brother. To do everything within their power and then some to make sure history doesn't repeat itself.

            

This is the mark of a true baal teshuvah. When the circumstances lend themselves for the bad action to be repeated, and the former sinner chooses a different path, he is considered penitent.

            

Yosef HaTzaddik was using God's favorite form of punishment – measure for measure. And with the brothers' collective action, and Yehuda – who was most responsible for the idea of the sale – standing up to do everything in his power to defend Binyamin (in next week's parsha), we see how the brothers are ready to be reunited, and the next stage of their collective history can finally commence with the reunions that will take place when Yaakov and his greater family come down to Egypt.

p.s. We can take this thought and apply it to the Hanukkah experience as well. The Greek occupation and the influence they exerted over the people of ancient Israel could only be overcome when the Jewish people were put in touch with the conflicting ideology, coming to the conclusion that Judaism was and will always be the best thing for the Jews.

Just as Yosef remains a highlight of the Israelites' time in Egypt, the 200+ years Hasmonean dynasty is a highlight of the Jewish experience in Israel during a time of foreign occupation and the 2000 year exile that has followed since the destruction of the Temple.

           

The First Conspiracy Theory

Parshat Vayeshev

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Yosef is sent by his father to Shechem, with a few tasks. Rabbi Mordechai Breuer divided Yosef's mission: you are being sent to your brothers, see how they are, see how the sheep are, and return to me with the update.

            

Ironically, as his brothers are no longer in Shechem only the first is partially achieved, and Yosef never returns after he is sold to Egypt. Malbim and Rashbam credit Yosef for seeking them beyond Shechem – above the call of duty – because shepherds tend to wander. Yaakov had made Yosef a "shaliach l'dvar mitzvah" – an agent for fulfilling a mitzvah – which would protect him in both directions.

Or Hachaim and Beit Halevi note that once he went to Dotan he was no longer under the protection of his father's command, and that is where the story turned sour for him.

            

Rabbi Breuer suggests that Shechem was not on the same crossroad that would have allowed the brothers to see the traveling caravans, so their location shift was not accidental, as it meant to set the stage for the national sojourn to Egypt to begin.

            

After arriving in Shechem, Yosef is found by a "man" who notices him lost in a field. The man tells him he heard the brothers saying "We shall go to Dotan." Most people assume that Dotan is a geographical location a short distance from Shechem (see Rashbam 37:17). But Rashi (37:17) raises the possibility, using a play on words, that they went "to seek against you [Yosef] conspiracies of legal pretexts" through which they can put you to death. In other words, as Rabbi Yoel Bin Nun argues, Yosef's perspective may eventually become that this was all a setup – a conspiracy against him.

            

What is the significance of Shechem, Dotan, the field and the 'man' who finds him?

Many commentaries note that Shechem is a place set aside for difficult stories: Dinah, sale of Yosef, the splitting of the kingdoms of Israel, and a place of murderers (see Hoshea 6:9). If so, Yaakov sending Yosef there would seem to be a sample of poor judgment.

            

Whether Yaakov thought out all the details is questionable. The Pesikta argues that for many years his calling Yosef, who said "Hineni" – "I am here, ready to take your mission upon myself," weighed very heavily on Yaakov, who felt responsible for Yosef's fate.

There are different possibilities for why the brothers were in Shechem. Maybe for a macho reason – they wanted to prove their independence and that they had no fear of repercussions from the massacre (Radak). Or they were following the journey of Avraham – which caused Yaakov to believe they had feelings of love for one another, as did their great grandfather Avraham (Shakh). Or they had put themselves in a situation to avoid their father sending Yosef – after all, it was a dangerous place (Malbim). On the other hand, if Yaakov did send Yosef to join them, Yosef's death could surely be attributed to or blamed on any of the locals who had it in for Yaakov's family, especially a simple target traveling alone.

            

Yaakov sent Yosef to them for different possible reasons as well. The Hadar Zekenim anthology posits that Yaakov mulled over the "Safek" (doubt) he had as to whether the brothers might harm Yosef, versus the "Vadai" (surety) that the people of Shechem (or their inheritors) will kill all of them if they are found there (see Targum Yonatan). Better to take the Safek, that something may or may not happen to Yosef, over the Vadai, that all of his shepherding sons will be killed. Radak opines, though, that on the one hand "Yisrael" (the name of innocence used to give Yosef the task) was completely unaware of the feelings the brothers had for Yosef (Alshikh), while on the other hands, he may have been aware but took Yosef's innocence regarding his brothers to mean the brothers had no ill feelings (Malbim).

            

Another line of thinking is that Yaakov or Yosef were aware that on this day the journey to Egypt would begin (Yonatan). The question was which family member would go down first?

            

The underlying theme of God's mighty hand assuring all goes according to the plan as promised to Avraham is not missed by Radak. Even the fact that Yisrael sent Yosef from "Emek Chevron" is enough of a hint to this idea. Chevron, after all, is on a mountain. An Emek is a valley – lending it to be interpreted metaphorically, as the "emek" – depth of Chevron, the city that sounds like "Chaver" – friend. This promise was made to the "Chaver" of Chevron (Avraham), buried in the depths – that his children will be strangers in a strange land. (Shakh) [Though Bal Haturim suggest the word Emek numerically equals 210, adding to the allure of the connection between the Emek and the 210 year exile to Egypt.]

            

We are told Yosef is "Toeh" in the field. The spelling does not mean "making errors" (טועה) and it is likely that the word means "Lost." The word Basadeh (as opposed to "B'sadeh") refers to a specific field, as opposed to a random field.

            

What was he lost about? And what specific field is this referring to?

Kli Yakar quotes the Midrash that he was "mistaken" regarding the field. He should have been aware of Kayin and Hevel and what happened when brothers who have an altercation meet in the field.

            

The Alshikh also says he was mistaken regarding the field, but about the meaning of the field in his dream. To Yosef, the dream about the bundles was saying, "I will go to the fields where they are and they'll bow to me. Will they be able to cancel out what God has told me will happen?"

So the "man"/angel was there to remove the "Toeh" from his heart – that he shouldn't believe in his dream [at this point]. Even if it is true, you can't take away their choice – and they will not choose to bow to you. If all you're going to do is incite jealousy, they will not respond positively, and your dream will never come true.

Had the angel not come, Yosef would have stayed with his pride against them, and they would have killed him.

            

There are plenty of indications that the brothers were not all lovey as Yosef may have assumed or liked to believe. Whether it is the extra Yud in Dotayna (they were ten brothers united, minus the sons of Rachel), or the message to Yosef that they had traveled from "Zeh" (ויסעו מזה) (Zeh = 12, literally "this" but they have moved from the unity of being twelve brothers – you are out), the Alshikh argues Yosef was a goner before he even shows up. This is why Malbim claims Yaakov's sending him to them (when they felt that way) nonetheless was criminal enough that Yaakov was worthy to be sent down to Egypt in chains. Sending Yosef down first was done for Yaakov's honor so that he came to Egypt royally.

            

The overall picture of this scene leads us to appreciate the depth of the tale – much more than just a string of coincidences. Or a family-made conspiracy theory. This was all part of a divine plan, to send the nation to Egypt, with Yosef paving the way, filling the promise made to Avraham that his children will be strangers in a strange land. 

New View of Eisav's 400 Men

The Torah Temimah has the following comment:

The Medrash says that when Eisav was pursuing Yaakov with 400 men, he went and consulted with the customs collectors of Egypt… He took the tax responsibilities of Egypt and passed them on to Yaakov. This is difficult. How does it explain the 400 men? And why specifically from Egypt? Look at the insights of Rada"l… But the truth seems to be that the explanation for "customs collectors" is that Eisav sought permission to be a tax collector. And this hints to the idea that he sought permission specifically from Egypt because they were the ones to be enslaving Yaakov's family for 400 years – this is the reason for his having "400 men."
וע' במ"ר כאן על הפסוק וארבע מאות איש עמו, הלך ונטל [עשו] אגרומי ממצרים, ועמלו מאוד המפרשים בבאור זה, ופירשו שלקח מכס שנוטלין במצרים להטילן על יעקב, וכמה קשה באור זה, וגם מה זה הסבר על ד' מאות איש, ולמה דוקא ממצרים, ועיין בהגהות הרד"ל, אבל האמת נראה, כי הפי' אגרומי הוא רשות להיות מוכס, ורומז שלקח רשות ממצרים שעליהם הובטח לשעבד ביעקב ד' מאות שנה, וזהו הרמז מד' מאות איש:

And so I offer this new perspective. 

There are many possibilities as to what Eisav's intentions were when bringing 400 men. They boil down to greeting Yaakov with honors, coming to fight, and just that Eisav doesn't travel alone.

This Midrashic perspective, however, sheds an entirely different light. Perhaps Eisav, after having gone to Egypt and having learned about what was going on there, came to the realization that the exile promised to Avraham would be taking place there. And Eisav wanted no part of it.

So, when Eisav approaches Yaakov with 400 men, he is essentially saying, "I know you wanted the birthright and to be the spiritual heir of our father and grandfather. ENJOY IT! I don't want to be exiled to Egypt, I don't want 400 years away from my home. And I am bringing 400 men with me to indicate, without necessarily articulating this directly, that I am happy with the version of 400 I have (strong men)."

Therefore there never was a threat. The magnitude of the numbers accompanying Eisav was mostly for show - to indicate Eisav was happy to be a tax collector and to return to his land - not to be the ancestor of a slave people who would experience 400 years of exile, but as leader of a band of 400 men who would serve him honorably and symbolically as he pursued his own destiny, apart from his slavery-bound brother and his family.

Of Faith (and Animals)

Parshat Vayishlach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Yaakov is on his return journey, homeward bound for the first time in either 22 or 36 years. His mother is dead (though he does not yet know that), and he is unsure of his status with his brother. Has he been forgiven?

            

He sends one group of messengers to Eisav with a warm greeting, "I've been away for awhile. I have made a decent living. I'm coming home – I hope I've found favor in your eyes."

            

The response is that Eisav is approaching with 400 men. (See also here on the number 400)

            

Not knowing his intent, Yaakov sends an appeasement gift to Eisav, which includes "200 she-goats, 20 he-goats, 200 female sheep and 20 rams." (32:15)

            

There were other animals as well, such as the 30 nursing camels who were either accompanied by their children (1 each) or by their male counterparts (many commentaries address the strange terminology in the verse), as well as 40 cows to 10 bulls, 20 she-donkeys and 10 he-donkeys.

            

The verse about the she-goats etc is unique, according to Rabbi Meir of Rothenberg (Maharam), because it is one of only two verses in the entire Torah in which all of the words end with a Final Mem.

            

The other verse is in Parshat Pinchas, Bamidbar 29:33, which describes a portion of the sacrifices of the 7^th day of Sukkot.

            

Maharam explains the parallel between these two unique verses.

            

God had promised Yaakov not to fear Eisav nor any other human being. By sending this gift to Eisav, he is demonstrating a lack of faith in God to the tune of 550 animals. This waste of animals is going to be the source for a payment Yaakov's descendants will have to make yearly to demonstrate their own faith in God.

The verse in Bamidbar is right before the obligations of Shmini Atzeret, so the korbanot of Shmini Atzeret do not count in the "payment."

How are there 550 korbanot? 2 for every Shabbos (52) is 104 animals. 11 for every Rosh Chodesh (12) is 132 animals. The animals for all of the holidays not including Shmini Atzeret account for the remaining 314 of the 550.

There is another approach to counting the animals. There are 2 animal sacrifices every day of the year (which they count as 360 days based on 12 months of 30 days each) equaling 720 animals. The korbanot of Rosh Chodesh and the holidays add up to 440. All together there are 1160 communal sacrifices.

Add up all the animals Yaakov sent – including the interpretation that there were in fact 60 camels – the nursing mothers and either their sons or their mates – and you have 580 animals. Double that number and you have 1160.

And so, according to the Maharam, Yaakov's punishment for his lack of faith gesture of offering Eisav 580 animals was that his descendants had to pay double that as offerings to God on a yearly basis.

As Rabbi Ephraim Buchwald of the National Jewish Outreach Program (NJOP) famously explained in his Crash Course in Basic Judaism, the tenet of Belief is a little different than Knowledge. When a person knows something, there is no doubt in one's mind. There is a fact, it can be proven, demonstrated, etc.

But "Belief" in its very nature carries with it a snippet of doubt. I believe this very much. But… I might be wrong. I can't prove it.

One can argue Yaakov had no excuse. He was a prophet. God communicated directly to him. God told him everything would be alright. While we certainly teach that one should not rely on a miracle, and one should make one's efforts, but Yaakov's approach seemed to disregard a direct promise. Some even interpret his fight with the angel as meaning to remind him that he is not supposed to even prepare to run from Eisav because everything will be alright. Either his wound prevents him from fleeing, or his victory over an angel demonstrates that he can certainly defeat Eisav.

We, on the other hand, don't have the luxury of God speaking to us in dreams and making promises. The promises were made a long time ago, and we are certainly left with a choice. We can abandon everything and say it's all nonsense.

Or we can claim our faith, declare our beliefs, and recognize that while we all have difficult moments and may even question why we do what we do, we can always fall back on the notion that we are the descendants of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, who knew what they knew and lived the way they lived, so their descendants could one day experience Revelation and receive the Torah at Sinai.

And, of course, we believe the promises for the future have yet to be fulfilled – but will be fulfilled!

In the scheme of things, maybe our People got off easy with the punishment for Yaakov's lapse of faith. Double the amount of animals he wasted on Eisav as payment to God in the Temple.

Can we afford the punishment for the lack of faith and belief that is so prevalent today? Can the blogging Apikores, and the self-hating Jews, and the online slanderers continue to only bring our People down?

Of course they can. That is what they are best at doing.

But the two Final-Mem verses remind us that events from long ago can have an impact on future generations, if all we do is exhibit a lack of faith in God.

May we be blessed to seek God in our lives, and to find and see God in as many life experiences as He makes Himself apparent. 

Not Responsible for "Lies"

Parshat Vayetze

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The first Pirates of the Caribbean film spent a few moments discussing the "honesty" of pirates. The lead character cheats in a duel and is this accused, "You cheated!" He responds, "Pirate!" as if to say, "I don't follow conventional rules."

            

One of the more memorable moments is when the female protagonist demands, in exchange for a precious medallion, that the pirates who are currently attacking Port Royal "leave and never come back."

When they agree, they begin to set sail with her on board, leading her to exclaim, "Wait! You have to take me to shore." And she is told, "Your return to shore was not part of our negotiations nor our agreement so I must do nothing…"

            

The way of the sneaky and tricky is to make deals using vague language and to deny responsibility for any wrongdoing, when the honest person gets burned.

            

Consider Lavan's approach to Yaakov when Yaakov seeks to marry Rachel. Yaakov tells Lavan, "I will work for you for seven years [to marry] Rachel your younger daughter." (29:18). Lavan's response is, "It's better for me to give her to you than to another man, so stay with me."

            

He never said, "After seven years of working, I promise you will marry Rachel." And so, sure enough, after seven years, Lavan gives Leah to Yaakov.

            

When Yaakov asks why he's been tricked, Lavan explains, "That's not the way it is done in our place – to give the younger one before the older one [is married]. Finish the 7 day (celebration), and we will give you the other daughter in exchange for the work you'll do for 7 more years."

            

The terms "our place" and "we will give" are striking – almost funny when you know who we're dealing with. Rachel is Lavan's daughter, and yet he pins all the rules on whether she may marry on everyone else's consent. "The people" won't allow such a wedding. "The people" will give Rachel away. It's not Lavan's fault. His hands are tied.

            

Ramban claims this is the way of Lavan – to deny all responsibility. He is honest. He is pure. He keeps his word. He meant what he said and he said what he meant. 100 per cent.

            

We live in a world in which there are very few people who fulfill and keep what was once called a "gentleman's agreement." If two honest people make a deal – in which they both know exactly what they're talking about – and they shake on it, they both have to keep their respective ends of the deal.

Nowadays, however, contract writers fill up pages and pages of legal jargon to make sure that every "i" is dotted, every "t" crossed, and there are no loopholes in the language that can be misunderstood or misinterpreted. And of course, they want to cover themselves from legal action. How many people really read all the "Terms of agreement" when signing up for something on a website, or all the fine print in contracts?

Most people don't have the time or don't understand all the language.

And the same is true for politicians – who don't read bills before they sign them.

The Lavan story teaches us that there are people who may smile and may come across as "nice guys" who will stab you in the back and tell you they're giving you a massage. They'll say things that sound nice. But when judgment day comes, they'll be able to say, "I never promised. And even if it sounded like I was promising – I wasn't. And besides, you should know that my promise is meaningless."

Like Lavan, they deny responsibility, they blame everyone else for the havoc they wreak and the misery they cause – whether to individuals, groups, or an entire nation.

No one likes to admit having been wrong. Most people want to be liked and respected and admired.

But if a person uses the same tactics as Lavan, whether a family member, a co-worker, a boss, or a President, we now understand the type.

A wholesome person is honest, keeps his or her word, doesn't pull the wool over others' eyes.

And when a person deliberately lies over and over, and ultimately denies responsibility, or tries to spin reality to fit an agenda, it is the responsibility of all honest people to call him on it and effect the kind of change that is best for everyone.

  

"Stolen" Blessings

Parshat Toldot

by Rabbi Avi Billet 

            

My best teachers taught that when a question bothers you, seek from everywhere you can until you find a satisfactory answer. This is one of the reasons why I have found real Chumash questions to be much better answered when learning what all the commentaries say, versus through just reading Rashi or Ramban. One of my rebbeim used to mock the idea that there could be a class on "Ramban Al HaTorah." As if to suggest that one commentary is the end-all in studying Chumash.

            

Please don't misunderstand. Every commentary has an approach, and every commentary can only write so much. This is more of a reminder to look beyond a small circle of learning and try to glean the full picture. And perhaps even come up with a novel interpretation – a chiddush!

            

An objective observer can't help feeling sorry for Eisav, standing and then perhaps falling to his knees before his father after being informed that his brother Yaakov has already come and taken the coveted blessings of the firstborn.

            

It's a sad, almost pathetic scene, in which a grown man, age 63, is weeping before his 123 year old father, screaming, crying, throwing the biggest fit, before resorting to threats to kill his brother when the old man dies.

            

Was Yaakov a thief and therefore in the wrong? Was Eisav wronged? Or, perhaps, are we going about this the wrong way? (Disclaimer: Ramban disagrees with most of what follows!)

            

The Hadar Zekeinim anthology notes that the way the Torah is transcribed makes the events seem consecutive, as opposed to simultaneous. In fact, at the same time that Yitzchak was lamenting his own flaws, trying to figure out how he could be duped into blessing his younger son, Eisav was thinking aloud, saying, "He took my birthright."

"Who took your birthright?" Yitzchak asked. Eisav answered, telling the story. Yitzchak now understood, and admitted that things panned out the way they were supposed to on account of that transaction from the beginning of the parsha, which until that moment had been unknown to him. And so he confirmed it, saying, "He too should be blessed."

That added line serves to support the notion that even without "tricking" his father, Yaakov was destined to receive those blessings (Rashi quoting Midrash), which Yitzchak upholds for a few reasons: because he's my son; because I said that whoever curses him is cursed and whoever blesses him is blessed; because he still had the taste of the food in his mouth, (or perhaps a piece of meat loosened from between his teeth). How inappropriate is it to curse someone while you are still enjoying the food they gave you? (Rabbi Chaim Paltiel)

[Perhaps that is a hint to Eisav not to curse Yaakov… a hint which goes right over his head.]

Taking Toldot Yitzchak's explanation of Eisav's complaint one could suggest Yitzchak felt vindicated on account of his unknowingly (or knowingly?) naming his younger son Yaakov instead of "Akev" (for holding Eisav's heel at birth). "Yaakov" was essentially given prophetically, because it is a future tense word, indicating he will one day pull a roundabout move on his brother.

Rashbam suggests Yitzchak realized the whole affair was Rivkah's idea, on account of her knowing that Yaakov was the more worthy to receive the blessings.

            

Yitzchak even explains to Eisav, "I gave him the blessing before you arrived" indicating that it was heaven's decree that you should be delayed just long enough. Remember – it was just as Yaakov was leaving that Eisav walked in – really split second timing. (Midrash Sechel Tov and Radak))

            

Radak even paints Yitzchak as an accessory to the plot when he explains Yitzchak's trembling not as a fearful regret, but as a show for Eisav, an indication that he was upset, so Eisav would not perceive that his father was really in on the plot.

            

Kli Yakar examines the whole story noting that it is only Eisav who accuses Yaakov of stealing. (Yitzchak calls it "cunning.") However did he not sell it willingly? How is Eisav's moment of weakness denigration of the birthright Yaakov's fault?

            

Eisav was suggesting that the taking of the birthright was connected directly to this. When Yaakov was asked "Who are you?" He never could have "I am Eisav your firstborn" had he not made the purchase. He must have really said, "I am in the place of your firstborn Eisav, for I purchased the birthright from him," and without that purchase, he never would have tried to take the blessings.

            

Eisav further thought, "Maybe when he bought the birthright his intent was to steal the blessings."

            

Eisav is therefore blaming Yaakov, suggesting that the birthright sale was a "Mekach Taus" a transaction made with faulty information. Eisav had originally thought it was purely a financial windfall – getting the double portion. Eisav thought at the time that his father might die penniless, so he sold the birthright for little money, thinking it was better to cash in at that time, not realizing that the birthright also included blessings!

            

Yaakov said "I am Eisav your firstborn?" instead of just, "I am Eisav" because it is only on account of the birthright that these blessings were coming to him – and that is why he was able to take them.

            

The trickery is that he took the birthright in the first place, because I had no idea that these blessings were for the birthright holder, and not for the natural first born.

            

Ktav V'Hakabalah blames Eisav for accusing Yaakov of "taking" the birthright, when the truth was that they had a legitimate transaction. It was his own fault for denigrating and essentially making the birthright worthless, leaving it open for Yaakov to claim as his own.

            

Some view this as rewriting history, and some say, "Look at the whole picture." Far be it from us to lay the blame squarely on Yaakov, or even Rivkah, who sets him up, when Eisav was as much to blame for all that transpired the moment he indicated the birthright meant nothing to him.