The World Is a Battleground

By Rabbi Moshe Krieger, Yeshivas Bircas HaTorah (www.bircas.org)

In Parshas Vayishlach Yaakov wrestles with the Malach (angel) of Esav.

The Torah describes how Yaakov Avinu brings his wives and children across the stream. He makes sure his whole family and all his belongings are on the other side, and then he remembers that some small items were left behind. He goes back alone at night to get them. It is at that moment that the Torah says, “Vayevaser Yaakov levado“—”Yaakov remained alone”—and then a mysterious man, the Malach of Esav, comes and wrestles with him until dawn. The Torah tells us that the Malach could not defeat Yaakov; Yaakov was stronger. In the end, the Malach only manages to strike the “kaf hayerech,” the socket of his thigh (Bereishis 32:23–26)

Why does the Torah need to specify that “Yaakov remained alone” when he went back at night?

On the simple level, Chazal say it is dangerous to be alone at night. The Gemara in Chullin (91a) learns from here that when a talmid chacham goes out alone at night, there are spiritual forces that can harm him, so he should avoid going out alone then.

However, the Midrash adds a deeper layer. Midrash Rabbah (77:1) connects the word “levado” here with another pasuk: “V’nisgav Hashem levado bayom hahu“—”Hashem alone will be exalted on that day.” In the future it will be clear that there is only Hashem and that all other forces we thought existed will be revealed as null and void. The Midrash is telling us that Yaakov’s “levado” in this pasuk is connected to that future “levado” of Hashem.

Rav Gedalya Schorr explains that Yaakov Avinu’s special middah (inner trait) was deveikus—constant attachment and clinging to Hashem. Chazal tell us (Chullin 91b) that Yaakov’s image was engraved on the Kisei Hakavod, and he appeared the same above as he did below. Just as he was connected to Hashem above, he was equally connected below. This was his complete dveikus.

We also see this in the dream of the ladder (Bereishis 28:12–13). Yaakov lies down to sleep and sees a ladder standing on the earth with its head in the heavens, and “Hashem nitzav alav“—Hashem standing over him. Even in his sleep, his connection to Hashem is alive; his sleep, too, is a sleep of deveikus.

Rav Gedalya Schorr explains that this Midrash is revealing Yaakov’s tremendous deveikus—his absolute attachment to Hashem. “Yaakov remained levado” means that Yaakov already lived with the same clarity that will one day be fully revealed—that there is no other real power in the world besides Hashem. He already saw in this world what will be clear la’asid lavo, and that is what the Midrash is highlighting with the word “levado“: Yaakov’s deveikus was so complete that he lived with that future-level clarity even now.

And this is exactly what the Malach could not stand. He saw Yaakov’s almost future-level deveikus and could not bear it, so he challenged Yaakov to try to shake him out of that attachment. The Gemara in Chullin (91b) says that in their struggle the dust rose all the way up to the kisei hakavod. Rav Gedalya Schorr explains that this means the Malach was trying to cloud over that clear awareness which the kisei hakavod represents, to make it seem as if not everything is from Hashem. He wanted Yaakov to let go, even for a moment, and think there are other forces at work. But the Malach could not succeed. The whole fight was an attempt to cover up Yaakov’s deveikus, and Yaakov’s attachment to Hashem remained unbroken.

The Torah says that in the end the Malach struck the “kaf hayerech.” Some commentaries explain that this alludes to the descendants of Yaakov. The thigh is alluding to the place from which the children emerge. The Malach could not damage Yaakov himself, but he touched the future generations. The message is that for us, Yaakov’s children, this deveikus to Hashem will always be a struggle. Yaakov won completely, but we will have to fight very hard to hold on to this awareness and to live with it.

The Mesillas Yesharim (1) tells us that the purpose of a Jew in this world is deveikus to Hashem, and that the only path to this deveikus is through Torah and mitzvos. Hashem set up the world so that this closeness comes through struggle: poverty with its worries, wealth with its pride, and the many pleasures of this world that can pull a person away. The world is a battleground. A Jew has to fight to keep to keep Torah and mitzvos at the center of his life so that he remains davuk to Hashem.

The mashgiach Rabbi Don Segal said that when he learned this piece in Mesillas Yesharim, he felt that this point defines our whole mission in life. He added two very simple and practical eitzahs (advice).

The first is to watch our time and energy. From time to time, a person has to stop and make a cheshbon—an honest accounting. Am I spending enough time on what I was really created for? Or am I spending too much of my day and my strength on things outside of Torah and mitzvos?

Rabbi Don would bring the example of the Chafetz Chaim. The Chafetz Chaim would make a cheshbon hanefesh (a spiritual accounting) about every part of his day. Talmidim once overheard him speaking to himself: “Meir Simcha, what happened to those ten minutes between such-and-such times? Where did they go?” On another occasion, they heard him say, “Meir Simcha, you are a gazlan—a thief!” He listed how he had woken up early, prepared for davening, davened, and learned, and then said, “But there is still a half hour missing. What happened to that half hour? That is gezel (theft)!”

The second eitzah Rabbi Don Segal quoted from Chovos HaLevavos, in Shaar Yichud HaMaaseh. Chovos HaLevavos writes that each person has a yetzer hara (evil inclination) inside him that is like another presence within the person. This inner yetzer hara creates different thoughts and different moods. It can send a person feelings of laziness, heaviness, or tiredness, and the person thinks these thoughts are coming from his true self. In reality many of these thoughts are the yetzer hara talking inside his mind.

Rabbi Don explained that this is very important to know. Many times, a person is learning and a thought says, “I am too tired; I cannot continue,” so he closes the sefer. But then the same person can sit and talk with a friend for two or three hours. That shows he did have strength; the voice that told him to stop learning was not his real “I” but the yetzer hara. This is a powerful tool for us: not every thought that passes through our mind is “me.” When a thought pushes us to stop learning, to rush through davening, or to skip a mitzvah because we are “too tired” or “not in the mood,” we must stop and ask: is this really me, or is this the yetzer hara talking? Don’t give up! Continue fighting! Our true self, the neshama, wants to be davuk to Hashem; the yetzer hara is only a voice inside that tries to pull us away from that.

He related a further story about the Chafetz Chaim when he was older and weak. Someone overheard the Chafetz Chaim saying, “Also this you want to stop me from? Also this?” Then he slowly got up, walked over to the bookshelf, and took out a sefer. Later he explained that he had felt too weak to get up for a sefer, and then he realized: this feeling is the yetzer hara trying to stop me from learning. He spoke to it and said, “Also this you want to stop me from?” and he forced himself to get up anyway. He refused to identify with that thought; he knew it was not his real “I.”

May we be zocheh to strengthen ourselves to prevail in the battle to keep Torah and mitzvos as the focus of our lives, and through that to remain davuk to Hashem.