The Voice Is the Voice of Jacob

“The voice is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esav.”

Few lines in the Torah capture Jewish history with such haunting accuracy. Against all logic, the Jewish people have endured. Empires that once ruled the world with armies and weapons have risen, conquered, and vanished. Yet the Jewish people remain. We have been exiled, persecuted, scattered, and targeted by world superpowers—and somehow, some way, we are still here.

Those who live by the sword, ultimately die by the sword.

Yitzchak’s words about Yaakov were not only a description of that moment; they were a blueprint for Jewish survival. Our strength has never primarily been in force or power, but in voice—the power of prayer, study, teaching, and connection through words. Long before we were a nation with land or armies, we were a people defined by dialogue with G-d, by learning, by moral speech, and by the ability to speak meaning into the world.

That does not mean there is no place for action. There are moments when a person must use “the hands of Esav” to protect themselves or their family. Judaism does not glorify passivity. Responsibility sometimes requires decisive action. But that has never been our defining strength. Our essence has always been the voice of Yaakov.

We see this clearly in the story of Balak and Bilam. Balak understood something profound: if Israel could be harmed, it would not be through swords alone, but through words. So he hired Bilam—not to fight, but to curse. Yet when Bilam opened his mouth, blessings emerged instead. Even there, G-d ensured that the Jewish people’s defining power—speech—would remain a source of life, not destruction.

This idea extends far beyond history or theology. Words shape reality.

A single sentence can build or break a relationship. A careless comment can wound for years, while a thoughtful word can heal silently and deeply. In business, leadership, science, education, and family life, progress depends on communication. People do not come together through force; they come together through shared language, clarity, trust, and vision.

Words create alignment. Words create meaning. Words create futures.

That is why Judaism places such emphasis on prayer, learning, and careful speech. And that is why we must be deeply mindful of how we speak—what we say, how we say it, and when we choose silence instead.

The hands may be necessary at times. But it is the voice—the voice of Yaakov—that has always carried us forward.