{"id":61006,"date":"2018-11-19T11:56:42","date_gmt":"2018-11-19T16:56:42","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.ou.org\/life\/?p=61006"},"modified":"2018-11-19T11:56:42","modified_gmt":"2018-11-19T16:56:42","slug":"vayishlach-physical-fear-moral-distress","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.ou.org\/life\/parenting\/vayishlach-physical-fear-moral-distress\/","title":{"rendered":"Vayishlach: Physical Fear, Moral Distress"},"content":{"rendered":"

Covenant & Conversation: Family Edition<\/em>\u00a0is a new and exciting initiative from The Office of Rabbi Sacks for 5779.\u00a0 Written as an accompaniment to Rabbi Sacks\u2019 weekly\u00a0Covenant & Conversation<\/em>\u00a0essay, the\u00a0Family Edition<\/em>is aimed at connecting older children and teenagers with his ideas and thoughts on the\u00a0parsha<\/em>. Each element of the\u00a0Family Edition<\/em>\u00a0is progressively more advanced;\u00a0The Core Idea\u00a0<\/em>is appropriate for all ages and the final element,\u00a0From The Thought of Rabbi Sacks<\/em>, is the most advanced section. Each section includes\u00a0Questions to Ponder<\/em>, aimed at encouraging discussion between family members in a way most appropriate to them. We have also included a section called\u00a0Around the Shabbat Table<\/em>\u00a0with a few further questions on the\u00a0parsha<\/em>\u00a0to think about. The final section is an\u00a0Educational Companion<\/em>\u00a0which includes suggested talking points in response to the questions found throughout the\u00a0Family Edition<\/em>.<\/p>\n

Download as PDF<\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n

Covenant and Conversation on OU Torah<\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n

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The Parsha in a Nutshell<\/strong><\/p>\n

Parshat Vayishlach<\/em>\u00a0tells the story of the meeting between Jacob and Esau after twenty-two years of separation. Hearing that his brother is coming to meet him with a small army of four hundred men, Jacob is \u201cgreatly afraid and distressed.\u201d He creates a three\u2013stage strategy: first he divides his camp into two, then he sends gifts to Esau, and finally he and prays. That night Jacob finds himself wrestling with a mysterious stranger, in an episode that ends with him being given a new name, Israel, meaning \u201cone who struggles with God and men and overcomes.\u201d The next day, the two brothers meet, not in violence but in peace. They embrace and then go their separate ways. The\u00a0parasha<\/em>\u00a0ends with the death of Isaac and a list of all of the descendants of Esau.<\/p>\n

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The Core Idea<\/strong><\/p>\n

Twenty-two years have passed since Jacob fled his brother Esau, penniless and alone; twenty-two years have passed since Esau swore his revenge for what he saw as the theft of his blessing. Now the brothers are about to meet again. It is a tense encounter. Esau had sworn to kill Jacob. Will he do so now \u2013 or has time healed the wound? Jacob sends messengers to let his brother know he is coming. They return, saying that Esau is coming to meet Jacob with an army of four hundred men \u2013 suggesting to Jacob that Esau plans to fight him.<\/p>\n

Jacob\u2019s reaction to the news is immediate and intense:\u00a0Then Jacob was greatly afraid and distressed\u2026<\/em>\u00a0(Gen. 32:8). His fear is understandable, but the Torah\u2019s description of his response is also puzzling. Why use two verbs that are similar in their meaning? What is the difference between fear and distress?<\/p>\n

To this a Midrash gives a profound answer:\u00a0Rabbi Judah bar Ilai said: Are not fear and distress identical? The meaning, however, is that \u201che was afraid\u201d that he might be killed; \u201che was distressed\u201d that he might kill. For Jacob thought: If he overcomes me, will he not kill me; while if I overcome him, will I not kill him? That is the meaning of \u201che was afraid\u201d \u2013that he may be killed; \u201cand distressed\u201d \u2013 that he may have to kill.<\/em><\/p>\n

The difference between being afraid and distressed, according to the Midrash, is that the first is a physical anxiety, the second a moral one. It is one thing to fear one\u2019s own death, quite another to contemplate being the cause of someone else\u2019s. Jacob\u2019s emotional crisis had two levels \u2013 both physical and psychological, material and moral.<\/p>\n

QUESTIONS TO PONDER:<\/strong><\/p>\n

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  1. Do you think it is likely two brothers could hate each other so much they could come to kill one another?<\/li>\n
  2. Would it have been wrong of Jacob to kill Esau in this situation? If not, then why did this possibility still cause him distress?<\/li>\n
  3. Jacob was worried he may become a killer. Are you scared of becoming a person you are not proud to be?<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n
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    It Once Happened…<\/strong><\/p>\n

    Long before the Temple was built, two brothers lived and farmed on that site. One was married and had a large family, while the other was single. They lived in close proximity to each other, and each worked his land growing wheat. When harvest time arrived, each was blessed with a bountiful crop and piled up his grain for long-term storage.<\/p>\n

    The unmarried brother, observing his good fortune, thought to himself that God had blessed him with more than he needed, whereas his brother, who was blessed with a large family, could surely use more. He arose in the middle of the night and secretly took from his grain and put it in his brother\u2019s pile.<\/p>\n

    Similarly, the married brother thought to himself that he was fortunate to have children who will care for him in his old age, while his brother will depend on what he saved. He, too, arose in the middle of the night and quietly transferred grain from his pile to his brother\u2019s.<\/p>\n

    In the morning, each pondered why there was no noticeable decrease in his own pile, and so they repeated the transfer the next night. These nocturnal activities went on for several nights, until one night the brothers bumped into each other. In that instant, in the dark of night, the glow of brotherly love lit up the mountain sky; they each understood what the other had been doing and fell into each other\u2019s arms in a loving embrace. According to the legend, when God saw that display of brotherly love, He selected the site for His Temple.<\/p>\n

    QUESTIONS TO PONDER:<\/strong><\/p>\n

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    1. What is the message of this story? How is it connected to the story of Jacob and Esau\u2019s meeting in the\u00a0parsha<\/em>?<\/li>\n
    2. If you have siblings, is your relationship more like Jacob and Esau\u2019s, more like the brothers in this story, or both?<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n
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      Thinking More Deeply<\/strong><\/p>\n

      The idea contained in \u201cThe Core Idea\u201d raises a further question. Self-defence is permitted in Jewish law. If Esau were to try to kill Jacob, Jacob would be justified in fighting back, if necessary at the cost of Esau\u2019s life. Why then should this possibility raise moral misgivings?<\/p>\n

      There is a possible explanation for Jacob\u2019s fear \u2013 namely that the Midrash means what it says, no more, no less: Jacob was distressed at the possibility of being forced to kill\u00a0even if it were entirely justified<\/em>. What we are encountering here is the concept of a moral dilemma. This phrase is often used imprecisely, to mean a moral problem or a difficult ethical decision. But a dilemma is not simply a conflict. There are many moral conflicts. May we perform an abortion to save the life of the mother? Should we obey a parent when he or she asks us to do something forbidden in Jewish law? May we desecrate the Shabbat to extend the life of a terminally ill patient? These questions have answers. There is a right course of action and a wrong one. Two duties conflict and we have meta-halakhic principles to tell us which takes priority. There are some systems in which all moral conflicts are of this kind. There is always a decision procedure and thus a determinate answer to the question, \u201cWhat should I do?\u201d<\/p>\n

      A dilemma, however, is a situation in which there is no right answer. It arises in cases of conflict between right and right, or between wrong and wrong \u2013 where, whatever we do, we are doing something that in other circumstances we ought not to do. Moral dilemmas are situations in which doing the right thing is not the end of the matter. The conflict may be inherently tragic. Jacob, in this\u00a0parasha<\/em>, finds himself trapped in such a conflict: on the one hand, he ought not allow himself to be killed; on the other, he ought not kill someone else; but he must do one or the other. The fact that one principle (self-defence) overrides another (the prohibition against killing) does not mean that, faced with such a choice, he is without qualms, especially given the fact that Esau is his twin brother. Despite their differences, they grew up together. They were kin. This intensifies the dilemma yet more. Sometimes being moral means that one experiences distress at having to make such a choice. Doing the right thing may mean that one does not feel remorse or guilt, but one still feels regret or grief about the action that needs to be taken.<\/p>\n

      A moral system which leaves room for the existence of dilemmas is one that does not attempt to eliminate the complexities of the moral life. In a conflict between two rights or two wrongs, there may be a proper way to act \u2013 the lesser of two evils, or the greater of two goods \u2013 but this does not cancel out all emotional pain. A righteous individual may sometimes be one who is capable of distress even while knowing that they have acted correctly. What the Midrash is telling us is that Judaism recognises the existence of dilemmas. Despite the intricacy of Jewish law and its meta-halakhic principles for deciding which of two duties takes priority, we may still be faced with situations in which there is an in-eliminable cause for distress. It was Jacob\u2019s greatness that he was capable of moral anxiety even at the prospect of doing something entirely justified, namely defending his life at the cost of his brother\u2019s.<\/p>\n

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      From the Thought of Rabbi Sacks<\/strong><\/p>\n

      Our custom is to spill a drop of wine at the words \u201cBlood,\u201d \u201cFire,\u201d and \u201cPillars of smoke\u201d; at the mention of each of the plagues; and at the three words of Rabbi Yehuda\u2019s mnemonic. Many explanations have been offered. The most beautiful is that of Abudraham, who interprets it in accordance with the verse in Proverbs, \u201cDo not rejoice when your enemy falls\u201d (24:17). Even as we give thanks for the miracle of the plagues, as a result of which our ancestors gained their freedom, we also shed a symbolic tear for those who suffered. According to some commentators, that is why the Torah does not mention the word\u00a0simcha<\/em>, \u201crejoicing,\u201d in connection with Pesach, unlike the other festivals. A Talmudic passage (Megilla\u00a0<\/em>10b) states that when the waters of the sea returned and trapped the pursuing Egyptian army, the angels wished to sing a song of praise. God silenced them with the words, \u201cMy creatures are drowning in the sea, and you wish to sing a song?\u201d God does not rejoice in the downfall of the wicked.<\/p>\n

      Moral maturity involves an ability to live with complex situations and emotions. We may be uplifted by an event because it represents the triumph of justice, while at the same time identifying with the suffering of the victims. One of the glories of Judaism is that it reflects the complexity of the moral life without retreating into skepticism or relativism. The heroes of the Torah are rarely without their faults, nor are the villains wholly without virtues. This does not prevent us from making moral judgments, any more than grey refutes the existence of black and white. But it should protect us against the kind of attitude that grew up among the sectarians of the Dead Sea Scrolls, who divided humanity into the \u201cchildren of light\u201d and the \u201cchildren of darkness.\u201d Judaism forbids\u00a0schadenfreude<\/em>, malicious joy in the discomfort of others. It was the first faith in history to teach the unity of mankind under the universal fatherhood of God. Tears, therefore, are a universal language, and sympathy should know no religious or national borders.<\/p>\n

      The Jonathan Sacks Haggada<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

      QUESTIONS TO PONDER:<\/strong><\/h3>\n
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      1. Can you see a connection between Jacob\u2019s ethical dilemma explored above and the moral complexity of keeping our emotions in check when we triumph over our enemies as described by Rabbi Sacks in the Haggada? What is the message of both ideas?<\/li>\n
      2. Are these ideas relevant in a practical way to modern Jewish history in general, and in your life in particular?<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n
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        Around the Shabbat Table<\/strong><\/p>\n