Dvar Torah on Parshat Vayishlach

This week the portion we read is Vayishlach, in which Yaakov returns to the Land of Canaan after twenty years of exile, an exile which was necessitated by his need to escape his brother Esav's murderous anger at having been cheated out of his birthright. Upon his return, the first thing Yaakov must do is face Esav, who is approaching Yaakov and his family with four hundred men. Yaakov takes the necessary steps - he defensively divides his family into two camps, he prays to God, and he sends a gift to Esav, in an attempt to placate him.

Just before he does these three things, the Torah tells us his state of mind: "And Yaakov was very afraid, and upset." The obvious textual difficulty is the double language: what is indicated by his being both "very afraid" and "upset"? Rashi, quoting the Midrash, supplies a well-known answer: Yaakov was afraid that he might be killed by Esav, and upset at the possibility of his killing others in the fight with his brother.

This midrash is often used as a model for and example of Jewish morality in war-time: we not only worry about our own safety, we are also concerned about the moral dimension of how we wage war: the safety of others, the lives we will take. Although, perhaps, there are some who would not agree, here in Israel we tend to pat ourselves on the back for our morality in war time, our reluctance to take human life, the care we take to avoid it, and the real distress we feel when forced to do so (not all of us feel this way, but I think I can safely say most of us do). Famously, Golda Meir, Israel's Prime Minister during the 1973 Yom Kippur War, said to Anwar Sadat, President of Egypt:"We can forgive you for killing our sons. We can never forgive you for making our sons kill yours."

At least one of the Rabbis of the Talmud, however, did not like what Yaakov what thinking in this verse. Rabbi Yaakov Bar Idi, in Tractate Brachot asked: Why should Yaakov be afraid? After all, God had already, years earlier, promised him that He would protect and watch over him, wherever he may go. He should have faith, believe. Why is he nervous about Esav now? The answer he gives is that Yaakov was afraid that he might have sinned during the intervening years after God's original promise to protect him, and his sin, or sins, may, perhaps, cause him to lose his position as God's favorite, and, along with that, His protection.

In trying to understand exactly what sins Yaakov may have committed during this time, some of the Rabbis hypothesize a very specific one: during the years he was away from home, he, obviously, failed to carry out the mitzvah of honoring his parents. To further complicate things, Esav, who stayed at home, is seen by the Rabbis, based on his behavior in the Torah, as an exemplary son, always honoring and caring for his father, a model, in fact, of a dutiful child. Esav, during the twenty years of Yaakov's absence, actually did do this mitzvah; in fact, he did it very well. This is what creates the disadvantage which Yaakov now feels.

I think this additional wrinkle not only clarifies the notion of Yaakov's worrying being killed and killing others, it takes it a crucial step further. As Yaakov thinks about his upcoming meeting with Esav, which may well end in violence, he realizes that he, Yaakov, may not only be about to shed blood. Worse than that: he really might not have the right to shed that blood at all, as he might not even be the good guy in this interaction, he might not even deserve to beat Esav, from a moral/ethical perspective. Their relationship with their father Yitzchak was what Yaakov and Esav's negative interactions were all about, it defined who they were: who is the real heir, who is his chosen son, whom will he bless? Yaakov has always acted under the assumption that he was the proper heir to his father's legacy, not Esav. Now, twenty years later, he is no longer so sure, no longer able to state with certainty that he has behaved better than Esav, is a better and more loving son than him, and therefore deserves not only his father's blessing but God's help and protection as well. He is no longer certain that he has God on his side.

Except for the Canadians, everyone reading this is a citizen of a country at war, a country which is, almost on a daily basis, killing people whom we define as bad guys. Worrying about being responsible for this killing is certainly the moral position we all need to take. Wondering if we are really the good guys, if God is really on our side, is, apparently, a question our tradition wants us to ask as well.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Shimon Felix