It is Thanksgiving this week in
the United States. My parents, in particular my mother, adamantly believes in
the importance of going around the table so that each person can share for what
they are thankful. My mother begins this moment of sharing, and because I never
seat near her; I have some time to think about what to say. I always struggle with trying not to sound trite even though that for which I am most thankful seems to me to sound the most trite: family, children, my wife, or sharing this day with my parents. However earlier this week, I attended two funerals. One funeral was
for a member of my shul who was a Holocaust survivor, lived to be in his late
80’s, and died of pancreatic cancer. He leaves a wife, a daughter, son-in-law,
three grandchildren, and numerous friends and people who held in high regard
and with the utmost respect. Unfortunately he also buried his son many
years ago. The daughter, son-in-law, and three grandchildren all spoke. The
second funeral I watched over the internet was for Ezra Schwartz, the 18 year
old Sharon, Massachusetts native, who was studying in Israel and was murdered
by a Palestinian terrorist in Gush Etzion last Friday. I listened to the father
speak and heard the sister speak. During the course of each funeral, during the
course of each speaker, with Thanksgiving looming, I was in awe. As pained and distraught
as these speakers must have been, there was no bitterness, nor anger. There was
sadness, a deep, deep sorrow but there was also something else. Each eulogy,
whether for the Holocaust survivor, or the 18 year old American student
learning in Israel during his gap year, sent an incredibly powerful message, a message
of Thanksgiving. Each eulogy made it clear that for all who had been touched by
these two men, lives had been better off. Each man touched the lives of many
others whether through laughter, friendship, deed, or inspiration, each man
lived their lives as if to send a message. One made sure to send a message to
Nazis, one sent a message to terrorist, and both sent a message to their
respective Jewish communities and to God.
This week we read from Parsha
VaYishlach. We read Yaakov’s preparation for the reunion with his brother Esav.
We read about Yaakov’s wrestling match. We read about Yaakov and Esav’s reunion.
We read about Yaakov’s daughter Dina and her unholy tryst with Shechem a member
of the Hivvites. We learn of what many consider to be the fanatical response on
behalf of her brother Shimon and Levi. Yaakov returns to Bet El, the place
where he dreamt of the ladder many years before, builds and altar, and receives
the covenant from God. During that process, God changes his name from Yaakov to
Yisroel. And while we read about the name change at the very beginning of the
Parsha, that name change was given by another being (Gen. 32:29). Rachel dies
as well as a wet nurse named Deborah. Finally we read a list of Yaakov’s
children as well as Esav’s descendants and the princes of Edom.
The
Parsha begins with Yaakov in a state of fear and anxiety prior to the
anticipated meeting with his broth Esav.
Thirty four years before, Yaakov fled for his life as Esav threatened to
kill him. Now, after receiving the
command from God to return to his father’s homeland, to Eretz Canaan, Yaakov
knows that seeing Esav is inevitable and a confrontation seems most likely. VaYishlach Yaakov Malachim Lefanav El Esav Achiv Artza Seir Sdeh
Edom - Then Jacob sent messengers
ahead of him to Esav his brother to the land of Seir, the field of Edom
(32:4). The Midrash criticizes Jacob for returning to Canaan by way of Seir and
Esav’s territory and even worse, sending messenger to seek Esav out in order to
deliver the message. “Rav Huna applied the verse: ‘He that passes by and
meddles with strife not his own is like one that takes a dog by the ears.’ Said
the Holy One Blessed Be He: ‘He was going his own way, and you dispatch a
delegation to him saying: ‘Thus said your servant Jacob’?! (Breishit Rabbah
75:2). Clearly afraid of what Esav might do, Yaakov sends messenger in an
attempt to placate his brother. From RaMBaN’s perspective, he agrees with the
critical Midrash that Yaakov should not have placated Esav. However when R’Yehuda HaNasi, the famed
leader of the Jewish people in the 2nd Century CE, editor of the
Mishna and his people’s representative to the Roman Emperor Antonius is asked
by his servant why he debases himself before the Emperor by sending messengers
and addressing the Emperor as My Lord; R’
Yehuda HaNasi responded: What, am I better than my forefather: did not Jacob say:
‘Thus said my servant Jacob’. R’Yehuda HaNasi advocates diplomatic
discretion in addressing authority preferring to forego illusive honors in
order to achieve practical ends (Nechama Lebowitz: p. 348). R’Yehuda HaNasi, perhaps the most
powerful Rabbi in his day, was secure enough with himself, comfortable enough
with himself that other would neither define him nor could possible diminish
him. Only he could define himself. Only he could diminish himself because he
had a powerful sense of self and with that, he was incredibly humble. Moshe
Rabeinu, whom the Torah describes as the greatest Prophet, is also described as
exceedingly humble.
Both
the men whose funeral I attended and who were so beautifully and meaningfully eulogized
sent powerful messages with the way they lived their lives. Their message was
clearly heard by their respective friends, families and all who knew them. It’s
too bad that the message was neither heard by the Palestinian terrorists, the
Nazis, and those bent on destroying the Jewish people. Both men lived their
lives in the light, appealing to the goodness and holiness of the soul, and
inspired others to live their lives with humility and the moral integrity of their
faith, and respect for all of God’s creation. Perhaps knowing people like this,
being touched by people like this, being inspired by people like this is reason
enough to be thankful on Thanksgiving.
Peace,
Rav Yitz
Rav Yitz
