Vayishlach - Inherent Contradiction
The story of Yaakov demonstrates the importance of twofold solutions in the face of complex challenges
The story of Yaakov in Parshat Vayishlach demonstrates the importance of duality and how holding opposing ideas is often necessary to solve our challenges. In Parshat Vayeira, we learned from the Akeidat Yitzchak/The Binding of Isaac that God can put us in impossible situations with no clear solution. In this week’s parsha, we see how Yaakov begins to deal with these daunting situations with a dual, often contradictory, approach. It is particularly fitting to consider that the name of our nation, Israel, comes from Yaakov, as we today also face many complex situations that trigger contradictory needs and emotions.
The concept of two paths is demonstrated throughout the narrative of Yaakov: The Zohar tells us that when Yaakov battled the שרו של עשו/Archangel of his brother Esav he was battling his יצר הרע/evil inclination. In this way, Yaakov’s formidable struggle with himself, or his alter ego, demonstrates the essence of duality. We find that Yaakov is named Yisrael/Israel twice, first by the angel and later by God. When Rivka was pregnant with her twin boys, she received a prophecy that two nations were developing in her womb, demonstrating the duality of Yaakov’s birth. When Yaakov was younger, he stole two fundamental possessions from Esav – the birthright and the blessings. Even the blessings had an element of duality. Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch explains that Yaakov stole the physical blessing from Esav; still, he also received a second, spiritual blessing, the Birkat Avraham, from Yitzchak at the end of Parshat Toldot.
The profound dual nature of Yaakov's character is comparable to harboring two distinct spirits within one body. Beyond receiving dual blessings intended for two different individuals, Yaakov married two sisters, Rachel and Leah. In this week's parsha, Rashi clarifies how Yaakov adopted two general approaches when confronting his brother: war and peace. Alongside fervent prayers for a positive resolution, he strategically prepared for battle, dividing his family into two camps for their safety. Simultaneously, he extended an olive branch to Esav through the presentation of lavish gifts, equivalent to millions of dollars, as a diplomatic gesture to secure peace.
The sages drew practical lessons from their examination of Yaakov’s dualistic approach to guide responses to threats from the Roman Empire, an empire our tradition posits was descended from Esav. In the Midrash, it is recounted that Rav Yehuda HaNasi (Rabbi Judah the Prince) instructed his assistant, Rabbi Afas, to draft a letter addressed to our master Caesar. We are told that Rabbi Afas proceeded to sign the letter from the prince, Yehuda. But when R’ Yehuda HaNasi read the draft, he tore it up and directed R’ Afas to write, from your servant, Yehuda. Taken aback, Rabbi Afas asked why Rav Yehuda chose to debase himself with such obsequious language. Rav Yehuda replied, “Am I better than my grandfather Yaakov who thought it wise to appease Esav?”
אֲמַר לֵיהּ רַבִּי מִפְּנֵי מָה אַתָּה מְבַזֶּה עַל כְּבוֹדֶךָ, אֲמַר לֵיהּ מָה אֲנָא טַב מִן סָבִי, לֹא כָּךְ אָמַר (בראשית לב, ה): כֹּה אָמַר עַבְדְּךָ יַעֲקֹב.
He said to him: ‘My teacher, why are you demeaning your honor?’ He said to him: ‘In what way am I better than my ancestors? Did he not say this: “So says your servant Jacob”?’ [Beraishit Rabbah, 75]
The Talmud also presents two contrasting attitudes toward Rome.
פתח רבי יהודה ואמר: כמה נאים מעשיהן של אומה זו: תקנו שווקים, תקנו גשרים, תקנו מרחצאות. רבי יוסי שתק. נענה רבי שמעון בן יוחאי ואמר: כל מה שתקנו, לא תקנו אלא לצורך עצמן. תקנו שווקין — להושיב בהן זונות, מרחצאות — לעדן בהן עצמן, גשרים — ליטול מהן מכס.
When Rabbi Yehuda, Rabbi Yosei, and Rabbi Shimon were sitting, Yehuda, the son of converts, sat beside them. Rabbi Yehuda opened and said: How pleasant are the actions of this nation, the Romans, as they established marketplaces, established bridges, and established bathhouses. Rabbi Yosei was silent. Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai responded and said: Everything that they established, they established only for their purposes. They established marketplaces, to engage in illicit behavior; bathhouses, to pamper themselves; and bridges, to collect taxes from those who pass over them. [Shabbat, 33b]
Some, like Rav Yehuda HaNasi’s teacher, Rabbi Yehuda bar Ilai, paid homage to Rome by lauding its accomplishments while others, like Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, perceived it all as nefarious behavior.
Our Parsha also reflects these two approaches in the way Yaakov asks God to save him from Esav. He implores,
הַצִּילֵנִי נָא מִיַּד אָחִי מִיַּד עֵשָׂו
Deliver me, I pray, from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau
The Beis HaLevi eloquently elucidates that Yaakov's choice of words encompasses two distinct perspectives on Esav. One perspective emphasizes the fraternal bond, recognizing Esav as אָחִי/my brother, suggesting the potential for resolving differences amicably. The other simply portrays Esav as Esav, a hostile individual posing a physical threat. The Beis HaLevi explains that this portrayal of Yaakov’s dilemma also captures the two very different forms of antisemitism we encounter. One is to love us to death, so to speak, by intermarrying or influencing our perspectives in ways that will lead to our destruction. The other takes the ominous form of proactively seeking our physical destruction.
A key insight from the story of Yaakov's life revolves around the theme of Tiferet/synthesis, which can only emerge from a process rooted in internal contradiction. Assuming that our dilemmas can be resolved with only one solution can be self-defeating, as illustrated by the dual nature of Yaakov's life, which suggests otherwise. Instead, we must be open to considering contradictory paths and strive to assess which may be more effective under specific circumstances.
Today we face such dilemmas on several fronts. One is the scourge of antisemitism that is once again rearing its ugly head. Do we confront it directly by openly displaying our Judaism, or do we maintain a low profile to avoid attracting hatred and hope that it subsides? Yaakov taught that both strategies can be appropriate in different situations. There are times when it's prudent to subjugate ourselves, and other times when it's more effective to confront and resist.
We also face critical decisions amidst the current hostage crisis. This week, thank God, we witnessed the release of many of our hostages. But our joy and relief over their return is inescapably mingled with feelings of horror over their reports of mistreatment, as well as our ongoing apprehension about the fate of those who remain in captivity. How do we deal with our emotions, when we are torn between wanting to free the hostages at any cost, and the need for Israel to continue its battle for survival? These questions are especially important when it seems that Hamas is intentionally leveraging our intense emotional predicament for their gain. Our sages, when reflecting upon the halachic obligation of Pidyon Shvuyim, the redemption and release of captives, offer guidance that is now sought to navigate these contemporary challenges. Many questions arise: Can we pay a hefty price for hostages, following the precedent set with Gilad Shalit, even if it risks encouraging our enemies to take more captives? In the aftermath of October 7, should we temporarily halt our military operations to secure their freedom?
These inquiries have been posed to our poskim, and their responses, in keeping with the nuanced nature of Jewish perspectives, are varied: it depends. Many poskim assert that our traditional sources, developed during galut (exile) may no longer be directly applicable now that we have our own country, suggesting a shift in halacha. Accordingly, the determination of such matters rests with the IDF in collaboration with the Secret Service, the government, and other relevant decision-makers.
These challenging dilemmas present no easy answers, but I believe we must seek guidance from our Parsha. The story of Yaakov, which is an evolution of the Akeida, underscores the significance of embracing life's inherent contradictions and considering twofold solutions when confronting complex challenges. Just as Yaakov faced intricate questions that demanded dual answers, our current situation similarly lacks a singular resolution. It is crucial to recognize the importance of acknowledging life's complexities and resist the urge to insist on simplicity. We must always bear in mind that we do not walk in the shoes of those in Israel who are living the nightmare we merely read about in newspapers and on the internet. They are forced to grapple with these life-altering decisions, and it is evident that these situations are devastatingly real, with no simple solutions in sight. Regardless, the most significant contribution we can make here in the US is to give Israel our unwavering and unconditional support.
Shabbat shalom.
Eliezer Hirsch