עם לבן גרתי ואחר עד עתה
I have sojourned with Lavan and have lingered until now. (32:5)
The numerical value of garti equals taryag, 613. Chazal teach that Yaakov Avinu implied to Eisav, “Although I was with Lavan for some time, I remained loyal to Hashem and observed all 613 mitzvos. I have not changed one iota. I am as committed today as I was when I left home.” Eisav should not have thought that he could prevail over Yaakov. The Patriarch’s merits will still protect him. Yaakov then added, Va’yehi li shor v’chamor; “I have an ox and a donkey.” Understandably, Yaakov was not informing Eisav of his material assets; rather, as the commentators explain, shor is reference to Yosef HaTzadik, and chamor alludes to Yissachar, the son whose proficiency in and dedication to Torah learning were outstanding. While this may impress a Rosh Yeshivah, one can hardly expect Eisav to be struck by two yeshivah students. Simply understood, Yaakov intimated to Eisav, “These are my values. You and I do not live on the same plane. I care only about spirituality, which you can see in how I raised my children. What you have, your wealth, power and physical prowess, do not dazzle me.”
While this removes the ambiguity in Yaakov’s statement, is there more to this? How would Yaakov’s two sons deter Eisav from destroying his brother? Furthermore, how indeed did Yaakov survive spiritually in Lavan’s proximity? We are so careful concerning the spiritual environment in which we live. Lavan represented moral profligacy at its nadir. How did he not affect Yaakov?
Perhaps the answer lies in the words: “I have an ox and a donkey.” As mentioned, the ox and donkey allude to two of Yaakov’s sons, each of whom highlighted a spiritual capstone: Yosef, whose righteousness was his hallmark; and Yissachar, who epitomized Torah study at its pinnacle. These two brothers together represented the symbiosis of Torah study and yiraas Shomayim, fear of Heaven. The talmid chacham, Torah scholar, who is lacking in an equal level of righteousness is not different than the devoutly religious Jew whose Torah study and knowledge lack requisite proficiency. We know him as being evil to both G-d and man. We fail to take into consideration, however, that Eisav’s behavior notwithstanding, we may not ignore that he was Yitzchok Avinu’s son and Avraham Avinu’s grandson. He spent his formative years in the home of his parents, and he certainly was in contact with his grandfather. Furthermore, as the Arizal posits, Eisav’s head rolled into the Meoras HaMachpeilah and is buried together with Patriarchs and Matriarchs. His body acted in the most profligate manner, but his mind knew right from wrong. He just could not employ his intellect to subdue his illicit desires.
Apparently, Eisav’s upbringing left an impression on his psyche – however subtle – that he acted foolishly in trading away his birthright for a bowl of red lentils. He should have known better. Veritably, it was not to satisfy his hunger, but rather, a philosophical position that he held: Olam Hazeh, This World, precedes Olam Habba, The World to Come. People who live their lives hoping for a spiritual future, whose every ethical and moral step is guided by the Torah – what kind of life is that? Let’s be real. This world was made for living. The next world? Who knows what that will be?
This was Eisav’s perspective which he believed -- or thought he believed -- until he saw Yaakov, his wives, and his children. When he looked at Yaakov’s family and contrasted them with his own, he realized how utterly foolish he had been to trade the “real” world of Olam Habba for this temporal world filled with decadence, moral filth and non-existent ethical values. Yaakov was the one who was living – not Eisav. Thus, he left in utter humiliation for having thrown it all away.
We derive from Chazal that, regardless of how immersed one is in sin, he often experiences a concealed sense of shame or discomfort when he comes face-to-face with the moral implication of his crude actions. We refer to this inner spark as the Pintele Yid, that little spark of virtue, that remains imbedded within, beneath the dross. Every Yid has a neshamah which remains pure, beneath the various layers of unJewish behavior that he has piled up upon it. It does not change, but, at any given moment, when a confrontation with reality emerges, the spark lights up.
The Rosh Yeshivah concludes with a powerful, almost frightening, observation. In this world, it is possible for one to run away and hide out of a sense of shame. In the World of Truth, from where can one run? It is all in front of us, in total, stark reality. He will be placed opposite tzaddikim, righteous Jews, who devoted their lives to toiling in Torah and serving Hashem amid fear of Heaven, having purified themselves from the base desires that plague man. A Jew should look forward to the future when concealment will no longer be an option.
ישפט תבל בצדק ועמים במישרים
Yishpot teivel b’tzedek v’amim b’meisharim
He will judge the world with righteousness and nations with fairness.
If we compare this verse to the previous verse (96:13), Yishpot teivel b’tzedek v’amim be’emunaso, “and (judge) nations with His faithful truth,” we note a contrast between emunaso, faithful truth and meisharim, fairness. Shaarei Chaim distinguishes between two stages of human acceptance of Divine judgment. Veritably, on the surface, no one wants to be judged, because one can never be certain of the outcomes and resulting consequences. If one were to be found guilty, he realizes that the outcome will ultimately benefit him, then he is accepting of -- and even looks forward to --the judgment.
Thus, the two stages of human acceptance are: At first man does not comprehend the objectivity of Hashem’s actions. He feels that Hashem is indifferent to his situation. At this point, he accepts Divine judgment as part of faith. He does not understand but he is faithful (96:13). Once a person sees how Hashem’s actions prove the perfection of His deeds, he realizes and acknowledges the fairness of Hashem’s judgment.
