Rabbi YY Jacobson
2237 viewsRabbi YY Jacobson
Brother’s Keeper
One day the zookeeper noticed that the orangutan was reading two books, the Bible and Darwin's Origin of Species.
Surprised, he asked the ape, "Why are you reading both those books?"
"Well," said the orangutan, "I just wanted to know if I was my brother's keeper, or my keeper's brother."
The Contrast
Sometimes, the contrast is too conspicuous to ignore. In both stories, the Torah employs the same term: “Ish,” which means, a man. (The term is already used in Bereishis, to describe the first man, Adam.) In two consecutive portions, Vayishlach and Vayeishev, the same term is used. Yet Rashi, based on the tradition of our sages, changes his commentary from one extreme to the other.
In the portion of Vayishlach, we find the term “ish,” a man.
And Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until the break of dawn.
Rashi explains that this “man” was the spiritual angel of Esau. In other words, this battle in the middle of the night between Jacob and this mysterious “man,” was part of the ongoing struggle between Jacob and his brother Esau.
Yet, in Vayeishev, we have the same exact term used. But there everything changes.
Joseph was sent by his father Jacob, to go visit his brothers and seek their welfare. Despite his brothers loathing him, Joseph embarked on the journey and he got lost on the way. The Torah tells us:
Then a man found him, and behold, he was straying in the field, and the man asked him, "What are you looking for?"
And he said, "I am looking for my brothers. Tell me now, where are they pasturing?"
Who was this mysterious man, “ish,” who encountered Joseph at that vulnerable moment?
Rashi says it was angel Gabriel, who we see is defined elsewhere in Scriptures as Ish.
Strange. In Vayishlach it says that Jacob remained alone, and a man wrestled with him. In Vayeishev, Joseph is alone, lost in the field, and, again, a man encounters him and asks him what he is searching for. The same exact word is used in both cases to describe this person: Ish. Yet in Vayeishev, Rashi sees him as the angel Gabriel, and in Vayishlach as Esau’s angel?
A Tale of Two Men
The Satmar Rebbe, Rabbi Yoel Teitelbaum (1887-1979), shared the following explanation in the name of Rabbi Chaim Halberstam, the Divrei Chaim of Tzanz (1793-1876).[1]
Context is always the key. The word may be the same, “ish,” but the question is what does this “ish,” this man, do?
In both stories, there is a person who is vulnerable. In Vayishlach, “Jacob remains alone,” in the middle of the night. He has been away from home for 34 years, and has been dealing with a world-class crook. In Vayeishev, Joseph, a young 17-year-old lad, is also lost and vulnerable. He has left his father, he was an orphan from his mother, and how he was on the way to brothers who despised him. He does not know it, but this journey would take him to slavery, prison, and complete alienation from his family.
In both stories, two people are deeply vulnerable. Father and son. Jacob and Joseph. Both of them meet a stranger. A man who appears out of the blue.
The question is what does this “ish,” this man, do?
Here is the difference. In Jacob’s case, the man sees a lonely man in the middle of the night and pounces on him. There is lonely Jacob in the middle of the night? Let me attack him.
What about in the second story? Here too Joseph is alone. And a man encounters him. But what does the man say and do?
“Then a man found him, and behold, he was straying in the field, and the man asked him, saying, "What are you looking for?"
Do you see the difference? He does not pounce on Joseph. He does not exploit his vulnerability, manipulate his moment of weakness toward his own goals. Instead, he sees it as an opportunity to help. He asks the young lad: What are you looking for? You are a dreamer. I see you are searching for something. What is it that you seek? How can I help you?
And Joseph tells him: “I am searching for my brothers!”
I want a relationship. I am searching for love. For belonging. For understanding. For comradery. For attachment.
So Rashi is simply mirroring the context of the narrative. When a man, encountering a vulnerable person, seizes the opportunity to attack him, that man, Rashi says, is an angel of Esau. But when a man, encountering a vulnerable person, seizes the opportunity to offer a loving hand, a guiding heart, to see how he can be here for you in your search for love and family, this person, Rashi says, must be the angel Gabriel!
The Lesson
We all encounter a person, a child, a teen, an adult, who is “alone,” vulnerable, lonely, lost, confused, bewildered, pained.
We see them in their vulnerability. And we make a choice.
Some of us seize the opportunity to use exploit them. Some people even utilize the opportunity to use them in immoral ways, to abuse them, to pounce on them, to attack them, to hurt them, willingly or unwillingly. Even just to judge them.
But some of us encounter the same vulnerable people. And our response is: My dear boy, my dear girl, my dear friend, tell me what are you looking for? Let me find out what you are searching for, what you yearn for.
We each have to make a choice about what type of “man” we will be. I can either become a force of Esau, or I can become the angel Gabriel.
When the Rebbe Went to Warm Up Soup
It was the night of Yom Kippur, the holiest night of the year.
The Alter Rebbe, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, also known as the Alter Rebbe (1745-1812), was praying. Wrapped in his talis and his kitel, he was immersed in his davening, in intimacy with G-d.
Suddenly, he removed his talis and left the shul. It was shocking.
The Rebbe went to the home of a mother who had just given birth. The rest of the family went to the synagogue to pray, so nobody was present. The Rebbe kindled a flame, warmed up a soup on the stove, and fed it to the young mother who desperately needed the food.
I once heard the Lubavitcher Rebbe share this story.[2] And he added: The greatness in the story is not that the Alter Rebbe went on Yom Kippur to save this mother. After all, saving a life override Yom Kippur. The uniqueness of the story is the Rebbe, in the midst of his Yom Kippur prayers, experiencing oneness with the Divine, felt the pain and anguish of the young mother.
Many spiritual people, when they are immersed in transcendence, they become deaf to the cry of a mother and a baby. In contrast, the Alter Rebbe, as he spoke to G-d on the holiest night of the year, his soul could not calm down till he went to comfort a young mother who yearned for help.
______________________________________
[1] Moshian Shel Yisroel. vol. 2, p. 210
[2] 19 Kislev 5744 (1983), at a farbrengen celebrating the liberation day of the Alter Rebbe, on 19 Kislev, 1798.
Sometimes, the contrast is too conspicuous to ignore. In both stories, the Torah employs the same term: “Ish,” which means, a man. In two consecutive portions, Vayishlach and Vayeishev, the same term is used. Yet Rashi, based on the tradition of our sages, changes his commentary from one extreme to the other.
In Vayishlach, Jacob remains alone, in middle of the night, a man encounters him. Rashi says this man was the guardian angel of Esau. In Vayeishev, Joseph is alone, lost in the field. A man encounters him. Rashi says, it was the angel Gabriel.
But wait! In Vayishlach it says that Jacob remained alone and a man wrestled with him. In Vayeishev, Joseph is alone, lost in the field, and, again, a man encounters him and asks him what he is looking for. The same exact word is used in both cases to describe this person: Eish. Yet in Vayeishes, Rashi sees him as the angel Gabriel, and in Vayishlach as Esau’s angel? That seems unfair.
But of course, context is always the key.
Dedicated by Daniel Penn, in honor of Leonard and Avigail Penn, and Albert and Ivy Shohet.
Brother’s Keeper
One day the zookeeper noticed that the orangutan was reading two books, the Bible and Darwin's Origin of Species.
Surprised, he asked the ape, "Why are you reading both those books?"
"Well," said the orangutan, "I just wanted to know if I was my brother's keeper, or my keeper's brother."
The Contrast
Sometimes, the contrast is too conspicuous to ignore. In both stories, the Torah employs the same term: “Ish,” which means, a man. (The term is already used in Bereishis, to describe the first man, Adam.) In two consecutive portions, Vayishlach and Vayeishev, the same term is used. Yet Rashi, based on the tradition of our sages, changes his commentary from one extreme to the other.
In the portion of Vayishlach, we find the term “ish,” a man.
And Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until the break of dawn.
Rashi explains that this “man” was the spiritual angel of Esau. In other words, this battle in the middle of the night between Jacob and this mysterious “man,” was part of the ongoing struggle between Jacob and his brother Esau.
Yet, in Vayeishev, we have the same exact term used. But there everything changes.
Joseph was sent by his father Jacob, to go visit his brothers and seek their welfare. Despite his brothers loathing him, Joseph embarked on the journey and he got lost on the way. The Torah tells us:
Then a man found him, and behold, he was straying in the field, and the man asked him, "What are you looking for?"
And he said, "I am looking for my brothers. Tell me now, where are they pasturing?"
Who was this mysterious man, “ish,” who encountered Joseph at that vulnerable moment?
Rashi says it was angel Gabriel, who we see is defined elsewhere in Scriptures as Ish.
Strange. In Vayishlach it says that Jacob remained alone, and a man wrestled with him. In Vayeishev, Joseph is alone, lost in the field, and, again, a man encounters him and asks him what he is searching for. The same exact word is used in both cases to describe this person: Ish. Yet in Vayeishev, Rashi sees him as the angel Gabriel, and in Vayishlach as Esau’s angel?
A Tale of Two Men
The Satmar Rebbe, Rabbi Yoel Teitelbaum (1887-1979), shared the following explanation in the name of Rabbi Chaim Halberstam, the Divrei Chaim of Tzanz (1793-1876).[1]
Context is always the key. The word may be the same, “ish,” but the question is what does this “ish,” this man, do?
In both stories, there is a person who is vulnerable. In Vayishlach, “Jacob remains alone,” in the middle of the night. He has been away from home for 34 years, and has been dealing with a world-class crook. In Vayeishev, Joseph, a young 17-year-old lad, is also lost and vulnerable. He has left his father, he was an orphan from his mother, and how he was on the way to brothers who despised him. He does not know it, but this journey would take him to slavery, prison, and complete alienation from his family.
In both stories, two people are deeply vulnerable. Father and son. Jacob and Joseph. Both of them meet a stranger. A man who appears out of the blue.
The question is what does this “ish,” this man, do?
Here is the difference. In Jacob’s case, the man sees a lonely man in the middle of the night and pounces on him. There is lonely Jacob in the middle of the night? Let me attack him.
What about in the second story? Here too Joseph is alone. And a man encounters him. But what does the man say and do?
“Then a man found him, and behold, he was straying in the field, and the man asked him, saying, "What are you looking for?"
Do you see the difference? He does not pounce on Joseph. He does not exploit his vulnerability, manipulate his moment of weakness toward his own goals. Instead, he sees it as an opportunity to help. He asks the young lad: What are you looking for? You are a dreamer. I see you are searching for something. What is it that you seek? How can I help you?
And Joseph tells him: “I am searching for my brothers!”
I want a relationship. I am searching for love. For belonging. For understanding. For comradery. For attachment.
So Rashi is simply mirroring the context of the narrative. When a man, encountering a vulnerable person, seizes the opportunity to attack him, that man, Rashi says, is an angel of Esau. But when a man, encountering a vulnerable person, seizes the opportunity to offer a loving hand, a guiding heart, to see how he can be here for you in your search for love and family, this person, Rashi says, must be the angel Gabriel!
The Lesson
We all encounter a person, a child, a teen, an adult, who is “alone,” vulnerable, lonely, lost, confused, bewildered, pained.
We see them in their vulnerability. And we make a choice.
Some of us seize the opportunity to use exploit them. Some people even utilize the opportunity to use them in immoral ways, to abuse them, to pounce on them, to attack them, to hurt them, willingly or unwillingly. Even just to judge them.
But some of us encounter the same vulnerable people. And our response is: My dear boy, my dear girl, my dear friend, tell me what are you looking for? Let me find out what you are searching for, what you yearn for.
We each have to make a choice about what type of “man” we will be. I can either become a force of Esau, or I can become the angel Gabriel.
When the Rebbe Went to Warm Up Soup
It was the night of Yom Kippur, the holiest night of the year.
The Alter Rebbe, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, also known as the Alter Rebbe (1745-1812), was praying. Wrapped in his talis and his kitel, he was immersed in his davening, in intimacy with G-d.
Suddenly, he removed his talis and left the shul. It was shocking.
The Rebbe went to the home of a mother who had just given birth. The rest of the family went to the synagogue to pray, so nobody was present. The Rebbe kindled a flame, warmed up a soup on the stove, and fed it to the young mother who desperately needed the food.
I once heard the Lubavitcher Rebbe share this story.[2] And he added: The greatness in the story is not that the Alter Rebbe went on Yom Kippur to save this mother. After all, saving a life override Yom Kippur. The uniqueness of the story is the Rebbe, in the midst of his Yom Kippur prayers, experiencing oneness with the Divine, felt the pain and anguish of the young mother.
Many spiritual people, when they are immersed in transcendence, they become deaf to the cry of a mother and a baby. In contrast, the Alter Rebbe, as he spoke to G-d on the holiest night of the year, his soul could not calm down till he went to comfort a young mother who yearned for help.
______________________________________
[1] Moshian Shel Yisroel. vol. 2, p. 210
[2] 19 Kislev 5744 (1983), at a farbrengen celebrating the liberation day of the Alter Rebbe, on 19 Kislev, 1798.
Essay Vayishlach/Vayeishev
Rabbi YY Jacobson
Rabbi YY Jacobson
Brother’s Keeper
One day the zookeeper noticed that the orangutan was reading two books, the Bible and Darwin's Origin of Species.
Surprised, he asked the ape, "Why are you reading both those books?"
"Well," said the orangutan, "I just wanted to know if I was my brother's keeper, or my keeper's brother."
The Contrast
Sometimes, the contrast is too conspicuous to ignore. In both stories, the Torah employs the same term: “Ish,” which means, a man. (The term is already used in Bereishis, to describe the first man, Adam.) In two consecutive portions, Vayishlach and Vayeishev, the same term is used. Yet Rashi, based on the tradition of our sages, changes his commentary from one extreme to the other.
In the portion of Vayishlach, we find the term “ish,” a man.
And Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until the break of dawn.
Rashi explains that this “man” was the spiritual angel of Esau. In other words, this battle in the middle of the night between Jacob and this mysterious “man,” was part of the ongoing struggle between Jacob and his brother Esau.
Yet, in Vayeishev, we have the same exact term used. But there everything changes.
Joseph was sent by his father Jacob, to go visit his brothers and seek their welfare. Despite his brothers loathing him, Joseph embarked on the journey and he got lost on the way. The Torah tells us:
Then a man found him, and behold, he was straying in the field, and the man asked him, "What are you looking for?"
And he said, "I am looking for my brothers. Tell me now, where are they pasturing?"
Who was this mysterious man, “ish,” who encountered Joseph at that vulnerable moment?
Rashi says it was angel Gabriel, who we see is defined elsewhere in Scriptures as Ish.
Strange. In Vayishlach it says that Jacob remained alone, and a man wrestled with him. In Vayeishev, Joseph is alone, lost in the field, and, again, a man encounters him and asks him what he is searching for. The same exact word is used in both cases to describe this person: Ish. Yet in Vayeishev, Rashi sees him as the angel Gabriel, and in Vayishlach as Esau’s angel?
A Tale of Two Men
The Satmar Rebbe, Rabbi Yoel Teitelbaum (1887-1979), shared the following explanation in the name of Rabbi Chaim Halberstam, the Divrei Chaim of Tzanz (1793-1876).[1]
Context is always the key. The word may be the same, “ish,” but the question is what does this “ish,” this man, do?
In both stories, there is a person who is vulnerable. In Vayishlach, “Jacob remains alone,” in the middle of the night. He has been away from home for 34 years, and has been dealing with a world-class crook. In Vayeishev, Joseph, a young 17-year-old lad, is also lost and vulnerable. He has left his father, he was an orphan from his mother, and how he was on the way to brothers who despised him. He does not know it, but this journey would take him to slavery, prison, and complete alienation from his family.
In both stories, two people are deeply vulnerable. Father and son. Jacob and Joseph. Both of them meet a stranger. A man who appears out of the blue.
The question is what does this “ish,” this man, do?
Here is the difference. In Jacob’s case, the man sees a lonely man in the middle of the night and pounces on him. There is lonely Jacob in the middle of the night? Let me attack him.
What about in the second story? Here too Joseph is alone. And a man encounters him. But what does the man say and do?
“Then a man found him, and behold, he was straying in the field, and the man asked him, saying, "What are you looking for?"
Do you see the difference? He does not pounce on Joseph. He does not exploit his vulnerability, manipulate his moment of weakness toward his own goals. Instead, he sees it as an opportunity to help. He asks the young lad: What are you looking for? You are a dreamer. I see you are searching for something. What is it that you seek? How can I help you?
And Joseph tells him: “I am searching for my brothers!”
I want a relationship. I am searching for love. For belonging. For understanding. For comradery. For attachment.
So Rashi is simply mirroring the context of the narrative. When a man, encountering a vulnerable person, seizes the opportunity to attack him, that man, Rashi says, is an angel of Esau. But when a man, encountering a vulnerable person, seizes the opportunity to offer a loving hand, a guiding heart, to see how he can be here for you in your search for love and family, this person, Rashi says, must be the angel Gabriel!
The Lesson
We all encounter a person, a child, a teen, an adult, who is “alone,” vulnerable, lonely, lost, confused, bewildered, pained.
We see them in their vulnerability. And we make a choice.
Some of us seize the opportunity to use exploit them. Some people even utilize the opportunity to use them in immoral ways, to abuse them, to pounce on them, to attack them, to hurt them, willingly or unwillingly. Even just to judge them.
But some of us encounter the same vulnerable people. And our response is: My dear boy, my dear girl, my dear friend, tell me what are you looking for? Let me find out what you are searching for, what you yearn for.
We each have to make a choice about what type of “man” we will be. I can either become a force of Esau, or I can become the angel Gabriel.
When the Rebbe Went to Warm Up Soup
It was the night of Yom Kippur, the holiest night of the year.
The Alter Rebbe, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, also known as the Alter Rebbe (1745-1812), was praying. Wrapped in his talis and his kitel, he was immersed in his davening, in intimacy with G-d.
Suddenly, he removed his talis and left the shul. It was shocking.
The Rebbe went to the home of a mother who had just given birth. The rest of the family went to the synagogue to pray, so nobody was present. The Rebbe kindled a flame, warmed up a soup on the stove, and fed it to the young mother who desperately needed the food.
I once heard the Lubavitcher Rebbe share this story.[2] And he added: The greatness in the story is not that the Alter Rebbe went on Yom Kippur to save this mother. After all, saving a life override Yom Kippur. The uniqueness of the story is the Rebbe, in the midst of his Yom Kippur prayers, experiencing oneness with the Divine, felt the pain and anguish of the young mother.
Many spiritual people, when they are immersed in transcendence, they become deaf to the cry of a mother and a baby. In contrast, the Alter Rebbe, as he spoke to G-d on the holiest night of the year, his soul could not calm down till he went to comfort a young mother who yearned for help.
______________________________________
[1] Moshian Shel Yisroel. vol. 2, p. 210
[2] 19 Kislev 5744 (1983), at a farbrengen celebrating the liberation day of the Alter Rebbe, on 19 Kislev, 1798.
Dedicated by Daniel Penn, in honor of Leonard and Avigail Penn, and Albert and Ivy Shohet.
Sometimes, the contrast is too conspicuous to ignore. In both stories, the Torah employs the same term: “Ish,” which means, a man. In two consecutive portions, Vayishlach and Vayeishev, the same term is used. Yet Rashi, based on the tradition of our sages, changes his commentary from one extreme to the other.
In Vayishlach, Jacob remains alone, in middle of the night, a man encounters him. Rashi says this man was the guardian angel of Esau. In Vayeishev, Joseph is alone, lost in the field. A man encounters him. Rashi says, it was the angel Gabriel.
But wait! In Vayishlach it says that Jacob remained alone and a man wrestled with him. In Vayeishev, Joseph is alone, lost in the field, and, again, a man encounters him and asks him what he is looking for. The same exact word is used in both cases to describe this person: Eish. Yet in Vayeishes, Rashi sees him as the angel Gabriel, and in Vayishlach as Esau’s angel? That seems unfair.
But of course, context is always the key.
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Chaim Bochner -1 year ago
Warming message on the Parsha. I've heard the story of the Alter Rebbe many times but I'm having difficulty understanding it. Obviously the Rebbe is trying to imply gadlus and since pikuach nefesh trumps all mitzvos, it's the right thing to do any everyone would do it.
Question: the rebbe explains that the gadlus is that he felt the pain of another Jew even within the intensity of Yom Kippur Kol Nidrei. But how did he have this feeling? Can it be related to a divine revelation? And if so, he knows about it so the question still remains: what's the gadlus?please explain. I love your shiurim
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Anonymous -1 year ago
Good voch , the gadlus is of A genuinely very Holy Rebbe who literally had the ability to reach very high heights and diveikus it was very real and especially meaningful on a yom kippor night and yet ( as moshe rabbeinu was chosen bec of his love for a lost lamb ) this holy Tzaddik went out of himself and felt another , that other was a young woman alone with a brand new baby , she must have been weak and exhausted, and emotionally very alone , because after all it was yom kippor it's a very important day ..... more important then a new mother ...... not so says the Holy Tzaddik .... what is truly holy is to care for another human being ...
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מענדי -3 years ago
ייש"כ על הסיפור מזקני הרה"ק 'דברי חיים' מצאנז.
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