The Scent of Gan Eden and the Clothes We Wear on Shabbos

Understanding Shabbos through the lens of Parashas Toldos

Note: For simplicity, all sources and footnotes are included in the attached PDF.

The Scent Of Gan Eden And The Clothes We Wear On Shabbos Toldos 5786

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Every Erev Shabbos, we take a moment and simply open our closet, choose different clothing, and change. The people around us see a jacket or a dress, while the Torah sees a levush.

Which leads us to the quiet question:

Who is actually wearing these clothes, and whose story are they telling?

Fork in the Road: Who Inherits the Light

After Avraham Avinu’s passing, the story of the Ohr Ein Sof changes direction. The spotlight turns inward, and the great movement of Avraham teaching the world about monotheism pauses. We stop searching for students, and begin searching for heirs. Who will carry the Ohr forward?

Will it be Yaakov or Esav?

Avraham spent his life turning outward with his tent open on all four sides, as his mission was to spread light. Had Sarah not intervened, Avraham would have handed that ohr to Yishmael. Ironically, Yitzchak, who grew up in that atmosphere of outward chesed would have continued along the same path and given the berachah to Esav, had Rivka not stepped in.

My father, Rabbi Yaacov Haber, writes in Beginnings:

“This difference of opinion between our Patriarchs and Matriarchs unfolds throughout history. The questions persist. Are we meant to insulate ourselves and our families from the rest of the world? Or are we supposed to be ‘out there,’ engaging with everyone? Anti-Semitism effectively shut down much of the option to teach the world, though ironically, the most virulent anti-Semitism came from the ‘other’ sons of Avraham and Yitzchak, Yishmael represented by Islam and Esav by Christianity. We have had Torah leaders who reached out to the masses, some only to Jews, others even to gentiles. And we have had leaders who opposed that outward-facing mission entirely. These are difficult questions with no perfectly clear answers.”

Avraham never blessed Yitzchak. Had he done so, it likely would have gone to Yishmael. Instead, after Avraham’s death, Hashem blessed Yitzchak directly and promised descendants who would carry that blessing forward.

Now we get to the point of distinction - which descendant will carry the blessing?

Yitzchak loved Esav and prepared to give him the berachah, while Rivka saw deeper and intervened. Where the Avos struggled to choose the future, the Imahos ensured its survival.

When Yitzchak sent him to hunt, Esav recognized the moment instantly. He understood that the berachah was now within reach and that the ohr was about to be channeled through his hands, the hands of the hunter, the man of the field.

When Rivka steps in, the story reaches the moment that changed the shape of history.

With his mother’s guidance, Yaakov does something that still troubles us when we read it:
He puts on Esav’s clothing, walks into his father’s room wrapped in his brother’s scent, and answers to Esav’s name. In that moment, he receives the coveted berachah and becomes the carrier of Avraham’s light.

On the surface, it looks like a simple case of deception and that Esav is correct for wanting to kill Yaakov. But beneath the surface, something far deeper is unfolding.

Although this may feel like a son “tricking” his father, it is actually about the elephant in the room, the central question:

Who is truly fit to hold the Ohr HaGanuz?

Who can receive the berachah that carries Avraham’s light forward, the light rooted all the way back in Bereishis and in Shabbos and in the hidden beginnings of creation.

To answer that, we need to stop looking only at the people and start looking at the clothing itself.

From Esav’s Coat to Our Bigdei Shabbos

Let’s focus on the garments themselves, from Esav’s clothes on Yaakov’s shoulders to the clothing of Shabbos on our own, and what it means to dress the body in light.

The Torah could have told this story without mentioning the begadim. However, the Torah specifically describes us what Yaakov wore, how he smelled and how Yitzchak reacted. The begadim are more than a visual detail, they are a key part of the story.

Adam’s Garment: Born on Erev Shabbos

What is the significance of these begadim?

Chazal trace Esav’s begadim back to the very beginning of time. Already on the first Erev Shabbos of Creation, bein hashmashos, HaKadosh Baruch Hu created special garments, melabushim meyuchadim, perfumed and prepared in honor of Shabbos, so that Adam HaRishon could wear them and serve before the Shechinah.

Chazal describe these garments as being formed from the leaves of the trees of Gan Eden. Some write that they were made from the skin of the Leviasan. The female leviasan which was created at the beginning of time and then salted for the tzaddikim in the future, had her hide become Adam’s garment.

The Midrash describes the clothing as wide below and narrow above, smooth like a fingernail and beautiful like pearls. Rashi, the Rashbam, and Rabbeinu Bechaye add that the likeness of all the species of animals and birds were engraved on them, appearing as though they were alive.

The Zohar calls them levushei kavod, garments of honor, from which the fragrance of Gan Eden would rise and the nefesh would settle and rejoice. The meforshim on the Zohar note that every creature desired them, and anyone who saw them coveted them.

After the chet, Hashem gave those same garments to Adam and Chavah as protection from destructive forces. The Chida explains that this is the meaning of “וילבישם”—Hashem Himself dressed them in a single moment. When Adam left Gan Eden on Erev Shabbos bein hashmashos, he took the garments with him.

The Midrashim describe the unique power embedded in these clothes. When Adam wore them in the field, all animals and birds would gather toward him. The Matanos Kehunah explains that they were drawn to the image of their own species engraved on them. The Yalkut Re’uveni and Or HaChama write that when they saw the garment, they would submit and be caught. She’eiris Yaakov adds that if Adam touched the image of a given animal, that animal would come immediately. The garment served, quite literally, as a bridge between man and creation.

From there the clothing begins its long journey through history. While we have no record of Chavah’s garment, we have a clear mesorah regarding Adam’s. Rabbeinu Bechaye writes that it first passed to Kayin. After Adam and Chavah died, it went to Chanoch ben Yered. When he was taken by God, it went to Mesushelach. From Mesushelach it passed to Noach, who took it into the teivah.

After the mabul, Noach still possessed the garment until Cham stole it and passed it secretly to his son Cush, who later gave it to his son Nimrod. Nimrod donned the piece of clothing at age twenty and became mighty through this unique garment. When hunting, every animal and bird that saw him fell before him and was captured almost by itself, as the Rashbam says, “nitzodim me’eileihem”, they walked into the traps.

People believed Nimrod’s power was his own and made him king. That is why the Torah calls him “gibor tzayid lifnei Hashem”. Chazal explain that the sins of the generations caused Adam’s garments to fall into his hands, and through them he drew many into avodah zarah. His very name, Nimrod, comes from meridah, rebellion.

From Adam to Nimrod to Esav

Esav enters at this moment in history. Pirkei deR’ Eliezer describes how Esav saw the garment on Nimrod and desired it deeply. At age thirteen, already a gibor chayil, he ambushed Nimrod, killed him and his warriors, and fled with the garments. Terrified and drained, he sold the bechorah to Yaakov “because I am going to die,” as the Torah recounts.

Parenthetically, it is worth noting that when Esav wanted something, his method was to kill whoever held it, whether Nimrod with the begadim or Yaakov with the berachos.

Chazal add that after killing Nimrod, Esav put on the garments. In doing so he stepped into Nimrod’s place and became a mighty hunter.

Esav never left the garments with his wives. He stored them by Rivka because he did not trust them, and because these were the same garments he wore when serving his father.

Bigdei Malchus or Bigdei Kehunah

Chazal give two differing perspectives, and both are true.

The Yerushalmi teaches clearly: “What does chamudos mean? He served in them as the Kohen Gadol.” As the bechor, Esav functioned as a kind of Kohen Gadol, serving in the clothing before his father, until the avodah and the begadim passed to the one truly worthy of them, Yaakov.

At the same time, the Midrash describes them as bigdei malchus — garments through which Adam ruled creation. Nimrod used them to dominate, and Esav used them to preserve power. They were royal clothing and priestly clothing at once, and both frames meet in Yaakov.

Just before Yitzchak intended to give the berachah, he sent Esav to hunt. Yitzchak told Esav to take his own weapons and bring back the tzayid himself. Rav Chaim Vital explains that Yitzchak wanted Esav to earn the mitzvah through his own effort, instead of through the shortcut of mystical clothing. So Esav left the begdei chamudos at home.

That moment created the opening for Rivka. Midrash Tanchuma adds that a malach delayed Esav by releasing the animals he tried to catch, long enough for Yaakov to enter.

Now the garments return home. Rivka takes “בִּגְדֵי עֵשָׂו… הַחֲמֻדֹת אֲשֶׁר אִתָּהּ בַּבָּיִת”. Chazal identify them as the garments of Adam that Esav had taken. She dresses Yaakov in them so that he would appear in the same kavod with which Esav served his father.

They are called chamudos because both Nimrod coveted them, and Esav coveted them from Nimrod.

When Yaakov Wears the Garment

Until now we have traced the meaning of the begadim through Torah and history. Now we need to know what happens when a human being actually puts on the right clothing?

Rav Tzadok writes that when Yaakov wore Esav’s clothing, he drew out whatever holiness still remained in Esav. Once that spark was removed, nothing of spiritual value remained. That is the meaning behind Yaakov’s words “I am Esav.” He was speaking a deep truth as he was identifying with the last point of kedushah that had once belonged to Esav and was now transferred through the levush.

In this moment the garments function like bigdei Shabbos. For Esav, they were outer light with inner confusion. For Yaakov, the garment matched the nefesh. The external aligned with the internal. The levush found its true owner.

The Beis Yaakov of Izhbitz sees this in the pasuk “hakol kol Yaakov v’hayadayim yedei Esav.” Yitzchak holds the hands that feel like Esav yet hears a voice that is Yaakov. Our voices are penimiyus, as they break through the body. Everything in that room belonged to Esav except the essence. The essence, the depth of heart was Yaakov from the beginning.

The Chida explains why Rivka did not fear tumah from Esav’s garment. If the garments were made from the skin of the Leviasan, then like all fish-skin, they could not become tamei. Onkelos hints to this when he translates chamudos as dachyata — pure garments. Kiryas Arba adds that she did not fear theft either. They originally belonged to Adam, and Yaakov, as his gilgul, was the true heir.

Chazal also describe a miracle of the fit per person. Esav was physically larger than Yaakov, “גדול וארוך בגופו” Yet when Yaakov put the garments on, they adjusted to his size. In fact, this was their original nature, they expanded and contracted to fit whoever wore them. Adam was a hundred amos tall, yet the same clothing fit Nimrod, Esav and Yaakov, each “ke-middaso.”

Here the depth emerges. The mekubalim tell us that Yaakov is the gilgul of Adam HaRishon. His beauty mirrored Adam’s. So Rivka’s act is not disguise, rather it is return, she is restoring the levush to its original soul, chazrah ha’aveidah le’ba’alehah — the lost object returns to its owner.

When Yaakov wears the garments, the ohr of Adam returns. The Or HaChama writes that he appeared “like the sun and the moon,” and for the first time since Gan Eden, the true fragrance emerged. The Zohar explains that the scent of Gan Eden was hidden during the generations of Nimrod and Esav, but when Yaakov wore them the original re’ach returned.

In what initially seemed like deceit, Yaakov was awakening what Esav never accessed.

Rav Yitzchak Meir Morgenstern adds a crucial point. Even if a garment is rooted in Adam HaRishon, it does not give itself to whoever wears it. Only someone with true inner connection to the tzaddik can receive from the levush. Without that connection, the garment remains external.

Esav believed that clothing and zechus Avos could replace inner work. He relied on the beged instead of becoming a keili for what it represented. And so he remained Esav.

Yaakov was the opposite. When he wore the garment, a re’ach Gan Eden emerged and the berachos rested. Out of deep humiltiy he felt unworthy and used the clothing as a spiritual support to make himself ready. In truth, he did not need them at all because he was already worthy.

This also explains why Nimrod and Esav did not damage the garments even though they wore them. They didn’t have any access to the inner layer and therefore no power to harm it. Only someone with a real connection to the levush can receive from it. Only such a person could affect it and for everyone else, it remains untouched.

That is why the Torah says “וַיָּרַח אֶת רֵיחַ בְּגָדָיו” and not ״ריח הבגדים״. These were no longer Esav’s garments, now they were Yaakov’s.

Yitzchak recognizes that scent, as he has smelled it before. He once went “לשוח בשדה”, which Chazal identify as Me’oras HaMachpelah — “the field that Avraham bought”. There he envisoned the Shechinah and smelled the scent of Gan Eden. On Har HaMoriah during the akeidah, the Zohar says the mountain was named after “mor ha tov” — the fragrance of spices infused into its air. When Yaakov enters the room, that same reyach returns. The Zohar says the scent gave Yitzchak peace and settled his nefesh. Only then did he bless Yaakov. He did not bless Yaakov until the smell confirmed that the garments had returned to the right soul.

Later, Pirkei deR’ Eliezer says that once Yaakov received the berachos, he buried the garment. He concluded that Esav could never again wear the levush of Adam HaRishon.

The switching of the garments was never a trick. When Rivka dressed Yaakov, she was drawing out the garments created bein hashmashos of the first Shabbos. The clothing passed through the hands of tzaddikim and resha’im, distorted into tools of rebellion, and now, for one brief moment, restored to their original purpose: to allow a human being to stand before God wearing clothing that smells like Gan Eden.

But until we understand what Esav failed to do with the levush, we cannot fully understand what Yaakov accomplished.

Esav’s Clothing Through the Eyes of Rebbe Meir and Rav Tzadok

Before turning back to Yaakov, we should take note of the first person who explained the inner meaning of Esav’s begadim. Rebbe Meir, grandson of Nero Caesar, was a biological descendant of Esav. The Gemara tells that Nero, who came from Edom, converted, and Rebbe Meir emerged from that line. Rav Tzadok of Lublin explains how Rebbe Meir, a descendant of Esav, unlocks what Esav himself never understood.

Rebbe Meir taught that Adam originally wore kosnos ohr spelled with an aleph, garments of light, not ohr with an ayin, garments of skin. Esav inherited those garments but only wore them externally. He possessed the light, yet did not absorb it.

Rebbe Meir is not correcting a spelling, rather he is revealing the purpose of a levush. Clothing is meant to draw the neshamah into expression. While it does cover our body, it also reveals the person’s inner world. A Jew is meant to live as an ish pnim, a person of inside. When the levush serves its purpose, the pnimiyus can be seen.

Rav Tzadok writes that Rebbe Meir sensed the ohr haganuz concealed within Esav’s garments. Like the Eitz HaDaas, they held a mixture of tov and ra, potential and distortion. This is why the Kohen Gadol also wore clothing of this nature, garments that contain light while concealing it. His avodah as the bechor is to separate light from darkness, the work Adam did not complete.

This is also why Rebbe Meir was able to learn from Acher. The Gemara describes his method: “He ate the fruit and threw away the peel.” That was his entire approach. Find the light inside mixture. Take what is pure and leave the rest.

Rav Kook sees Rebbe Meir’s teaching as a vision for history. Before the chet Adam, the Divine connection expanded life and the world, it enriched everything Man touched.

After the sin, that supernal brightness dimmed and humanity remained with an ohr shel toladah, a secondary glow that could no longer embrace all parts of existence. The result is exile. We scatter through the nations to gather strengths, rebuild the tzelem, and prepare for a return of that first undimmed light.

That light, Rav Kook writes, is the ohr of Mashiach. It is large enough to spread through all cultures and all systems without losing its kedushah. This is the portion of those who learn Torah lishmah b’darkei Rebbe Meir, whose Torah speaks of kosnos ohr, and of whom Chazal said, “zehu Mashichechem.” Rebbe Meir already understood that ohr of mashiach, so his Torah illuminates from within. When he speaks of garments of light, he is telling us that the levush itself can carry the ohr of Mashiach into every corner of life.

What Is a Levush, A Kabbalistic Frame

In Kabbalah, a levush is never just fabric. Clothing means interface, the way something hidden becomes visible. A levush conceals, but it also protects, and at the right moment it reveals.

Every level of creation has a levush. The soul wears a body. Angels wear spiritual garments. Even the Ohr Ein Sof, the Infinite Light, “wears” the universe so that it can enter a world that would otherwise be shattered by its presence. Without levushim, the Arizal writes, nothing could exist. Creation would collapse back into pure light.

The first levush of Adam, kosnos ohr with an aleph, functioned exactly that way. It covered the body but expressed the soul. It did not hide Adam. It translated him.

After the chet, the ohr became ohr with an ayin, it was still a levush, but thick and concealing. It guarded us from something we once carried naturally.

The avodah — from Yaakov to Shabbos to Mashiach — is not to escape levushim, but to elevate them. The task is to turn ohr עור back into ohr אור, to make the body, and even the world, transparent again.

When the Levush Becomes a Costume, Rome

This struggle over clothing continues in Rome.

The Gemara describes a strange Roman festival that took place every seventy years. A limping man, symbolizing Yaakov after the struggle with the angel, carried a healthy man on his back. The healthy man wore two things:

1) the clothing of Adam HaRishon
2) the face of the Kohen Gadol, Rebbe Yishmael, flayed from his body and preserved

As the procession moved through the streets, Rome would proclaim:

“The brother of our master is a liar.”
“What did the schemer gain from his schemes?”
“Woe to this one when that one stands.”

The symbolism is sharp.

Edom claims the levush of Adam and the beauty of the Kohen Gadol while Yaakov staggers beneath him. They wear the garments of kedushah and deny the soul inside. It is Esav in Adam’s coat again. Possession without absorption. Projection without transformation.

As Rabbi Reuven Schrier explains, this ritual announced a message. Rome declared that it now owned Jerusalem. It claimed the beauty of the Mikdash. It displayed the face of the Kohen Gadol to prove that the spiritual splendor of Yerushalayim now “belonged” to Rome.

Yet their final line reveals the truth.

“Woe to this one when that one stands.”

When Yaakov stands up, the costume collapses. Edom can wear Adam’s clothing and the face of the Kohen Gadol. Clothing alone cannot make them holy. A levush without a nefesh becomes parody.

Bigdei Shabbos, Garments of Light

This story continues beyond Yaakov, with Rus in the next chapter.

Naomi instructed Rus to wash and change her clothing before meeting Boaz. Chazal do not read this as ordinary preparation. The Gemara states that these were Bigdei Shabbos.
Ben Yehoyada explains that Shabbos belongs to the world of Malchus, and Rus herself was Malchus, the root of David HaMelech.

The Meor VShemesh writes that Naomi feared that such an intimate encounter might contain traces of physical desire. So she advised Rus:

“Wash and anoint yourself”, similar to the spiritual preparation for Shabbos, removing weekday garments and the grip of the sitra achra.

“Put on your garments”, meaning Bigdei Shabbos, in order to draw on herself the nefesh, ruach and neshamah of Shabbos so that the act would remain within kedushah.

Rus listened fully. Through Bigdei Shabbos, the physical encounter rose into holiness.

That is Shabbos, the levush that lifts the weekday into Malchus dKedushah.

Rav Tzadok and the Secret of the Levush

Rav Tzadok takes this further. As explained, all of creation is a levush, a garment that hides the Ohr Ein Sof and limits it so that the world can exist. Bigdei Shabbos echo the first levush of Adam, kosnos ohr with an aleph, garments of light that still carry a trace of the ohr haganuz, the hidden light stored for tzaddikim in the days of Mashiach.

When we wear Shabbos clothing, our inner world may still need work. Yet every Jew holds a point of pure goodness, and on Shabbos that point rises to the surface. The clothing is not a costume, rather they bear witness that the light remains, waiting for the day when inner and outer meet.

The Berachah of Yaakov and How We Wear It

Rav Tzadok writes that the berachos that Yitzchak gave Yaakov are channels of light. The ten berachos correspond to the ten sefiros, the structure that carries the ohr into creation. By wearing the garments and receiving those berachos, with the inheritance of the clothing, Yaakov received the full system through which light flows into the world.

So a question naturally emerges:
How do we touch that levush in our own lives? We are not Yaakov. We are not Adam HaRishon. Yet every week we put on Bigdei Shabbos and something in us changes. What is happening?

Rav Tzadok answers. The gateway is Yosef HaTzaddik.

Yosef is called raz dbris and raz dShabbos, the secret of the bris and the secret of Shabbos. These are one idea. Yosef holds the power to carry light inside structure. He knows how to hold the ohr haganuz while still standing in a physical world.

That is why Bigdei Shabbos, Bigdei Kehunah and the garments of Adam HaRishon all share one spiritual root. Rav Tzadok writes that they are the levush of Yosef, the clothing that protect light, channel it and reveal it in the right moment.

Rebbe Yehudah bar Ilai lived this. The Gemara says that when he wrapped himself in Bigdei Shabbos, he looked like a malach Hashem Tzevakos. He wore the levush that matched his inner self, and Shabbos allowed that inner point to shine.

Most of us will not feel like malachim when we put on our Shabbos clothing on Erev Shabbos. Rav Tzadok says that this is not the point. The levush of Shabbos is a declaration that something inside still deserves to be seen. Yaakov and his son Yosef taught us that light can live inside mixture and still shine. That is why we keep dressing up.

What Clothing Really Is

Chazal already gave us the key.

The Midrash teaches that a person must honor Shabbos with special clothing, because that is what Hashem did first. Adam was created on Friday and sinned that same day. As Shabbos arrived, Hashem dressed him in kosnos ohr, not merely to cover his body but to prepare him for the holiness of the coming day. Adam stepped into Shabbos already wearing Bigdei Shabbos.

The Midrash goes further. Those garments were not only respectable clothing. They were Bigdei Kehunah. Before the Mishkan, the avodah was done by the bechoros. Adam, the firstborn of the world, was dressed by Hashem Himself in the clothing of the Kohen Gadol. Clothing declares the avodah we are here to do. When a Jew wears Bigdei Shabbos, the day should be visible on the face. Chazal say that a person’s face on Shabbos looks different from his weekday face. The clothing must match the neshamah that enters.

The same is true of the Kohen Gadol. In the Beis HaMikdash he wears clothing that allows the holiness of the place to reflect on him. The Midrash asks, is the Kohen Gadol not a human being? It answers, in that moment he stands like an angel, he is raised beyond the more simple level of Adam, The clothing are more than a physical cover, they reveal who he is in that hour.

Levush is light that allows the inner world to appear without overwhelming those who see it.

This is true of creation itself. Chazal teach that when Hashem created the light, He first dressed Himself in a garment, and through that garment the light entered the world. The world itself is a levush, a concealment that makes revelation possible. The word olam shares a root with ‘he’elem’ , hiding, so that something deeper can be discovered within it.

Before the chet Adam, the original light shone from one end of existence to the other. That was kosnos ohr with an aleph, a garment that both covered and revealed. After the chet it became ohr with an ayin, thick and heavy. The light was hidden. We live among garments that hide more than they reveal. Our work is to look through them and notice Hashem again inside the levush.

Every levush is an invitation to see past the layer, to find the ohr within the or. It is to wear clothing that announces what we are here to do as opposed to disguising us.

The Scent of Gan Eden

The Sfas Emes writes, as explained above, that when Yitzchak smelled Yaakov’s garments, a trace of Gan Eden entered the room. That scent moved him to give the berachah. He quotes the pasuk in Tehillim that speaks of a river flowing out of Eden to water the garden. That river is the root of all berachah. When the reyach arrived, Yitzchak felt that the source had returned.

Adam HaRishon was created as the vessel to draw that berachah into every soul that would come after him. After the sin he lost that first levush. Only Yaakov, who began to repair the chet of Adam, merited to wear it again. That is why the scent returned, as a tikkun.

The Sfas Emes then brings it down to earth and teaches that the same scent returns every Shabbos. Just as Gan Eden sent out the first river of berachah, so too Shabbos carries the scent of that hidden world. The korbanos are called reyach nichoach, there is a fragrance which exudes. Tefillah, which takes their place, also draws out that fragrance. Through reyach, the soul rises to its root and the beracha descends again.

The pasuk says about Mashiach, “v’haricho b’yiras Hashem” — he will judge through scent. Chazal say he will smell and know. Scent belongs to the neshamah. It is the one pleasure the body does not consume. The neshamah entered Adam through the nose. When the Shechinah spoke at Sinai, every word filled the world with fragrance.

That is Shabbos, yoma denishmasa. The extra neshamah that enters on Shabbos brings with it the scent of Gan Eden. When it leaves, we smell besamim at Havdalah because we feel the absence. Shabbos asks us one question each week. Can we wear Adam’s garment long enough to feel when it leaves?

Maybe that is the avodah of Bigdei Shabbos. Not to look perfect, and not to act like angels, but to remember that we still come back home, as we are wearing Adam’s clothing once again.The next time you change into your shabbos clothing, pause for one second. Ask yourself whose story these clothes are telling. Esav’s story ends when the garment stays outside. Yaakov’s story begins when the levush lets the inner light show.