Take No Prisoners

This week’s Parsha is full of Mitzvos and has a number of important messages, but it is difficult to get past the first Passuk without “stopping” to think, especially in the month of Elul.

The Parsha begins with the Mitzvah of Yifas Toar: “Ki Seitzei LaMilchama Al Oivecha: When you go out to war against your enemy.” There are many parts of this Pasuk that are difficult to understand. For example, why does the Torah say “Al Oivecha: against your enemy?” Aren’t all wars fought against an enemy? Also, why is the Pasuk written in the singular form? Wars are fought by an army, the Pasuk should say “Ki Seitzeu?”

In addition to the textual difficulties, the Mitzvah itself is one of the most difficult Mitzvos to understand in the entire Torah. We know that soldiers in the army of the Jewish nation were enlisted in a way different than any other fighting force. All those who were draft eligible were gathered prior to the beginning of any campaign. Those who were weak in their Emunah, who had fear of their Aveiros or had any personal reason to be distracted from the task at hand, were then sent home.

Nonetheless we are given the Mitzvah of Yifas Toar, which seems to be directed at someone who gives in to a Taiva and cannot free himself from it—hardly what we may expect from those who fight in the army of Hashem.

Rashi says that in this case “Lo Dibra Torah Ela Keneged Yetzer Harah: The Torah is speaking about the Yetzer Harah.” On the simple level, this means that the Torah is giving this soldier, who has found the Yifas Toar, a solution to deal with this Taiva, this Yetzer Harah. Many of the Miforshei HaChumash, however—among them the Kli Yakar and the Ohr HaChaim HaKadosh—explain this Al Derech HaDrush.

The “Oyev”, says the Ohr HaChaim, refers not to a geopolitical enemy, but to the Yetzer Harah, and the Torah is speaking not to the soldiers in the physical army but to each of us who fight in the spiritual battle against the Yetzer Harah on a daily basis. The Torah is teaching us a lesson about how to live our lives, in which we are inherently conflicted between good and evil, right and wrong.

A number of lessons can be learned from the fact that the Torah uses the metaphor of a war and an enemy.

R’ Shalom Schawdron points out that in times of war, soldiers are expected to stay awake for long periods of time. If a soldier falls asleep while on watch, it can be detrimental to the entire army. So to we must be fully cognizant at all times of the threat that the Yetzer Harah poses—we cannot let down our guard for even a moment.

Another aspect of fighting a war that R’ Shalom points out is that preparedness is key. The army that is better prepared to fight, and has thought out its plans and strategies will be a more effective force. So to, we must be prepared in our fight against the Yetzer Harah—we know that he is lurking, seeking to attack us, and we must be prepared. Chazel teach us certain tactics for fighting the Yetzer Harah: learning Torah, enhancing our own Emunah and others, and we must use these tactics, and be prepared to employ them at a moment’s notice.

R’ Shalom also notes that when one has an known enemy, and does not wish to engage in battle, the most important step is to stay far away. Two neighboring countries that have conflicting interests can live in relative peace for many years, but the moment one nation’s army crosses the border into the other’s territory, war is declared. So to, we must learn to stay far away from the Yetzer Harah. Each of us knows those places that our own Yetzer Harah lies in wait, where his territory is, and we must avoid treading on that land, so to speak.

I think there is another lesson that can be taken from armies perhaps. When new recruits are trained, one of the most important lessons they are inculcated with is responsibility to their unit—the entire platoon will be punished for a minor mistake committed by even one soldier. The reason for this is that in war there is nothing more valuable than a cohesive unit.

In our war against the Yetzer Harah there is also a lot to be gained from allegiance to our unit of Klal Yisroel. If we remember that we are part of a unit—the army of Hashem—and that our behavior reflects on the entire unit, we will be more careful in our actions, and that can be used as an effective tool at times when our personal struggles are difficult.

These lessons about our battle against the Yetzaer Harah—and the realization that we lead are lives in constant presence of a mortal enemy—might be a little discouraging or perhaps lead us to think that there is no hope. The end of the Passuk, however, can help us feel empowered in this fight.

The Passuk tells says “U’nisano Hashem Elokecha B’yadech, V’shiviso Shivyo: And Hashem will put him (your enemy) in your hands and you will take captives.”

While it is true that we are engaged in a lifelong battle against our personal Yitzrei Harah, it is important to keep in mind that we are not alone in the battle. Hashem helps us: “U’nisano Hashem Elokecha B’yadecha”. We cannot win the battle on our own, but if we live our lives as we are supposed to, if we try to do the best we can, Hashem can put our Yetzer Harah in our hands.

It is important to realize that this does not come without effort. We must that the first step, we must suit up for battle, so to speak.

There is a thought on a Mitzvah found later on in the Parsha that I think brings out this point.

Later in the Parsha we find the Mitzva of Prika—helping unload and raise the animal of a fellow Jew that is struggling under its load. This is a Mitzvah that is practical in its application, and can sometimes even be pertinent these days (for example if someone is stranded with mechanical difficulties.) One of the conditions of this Mitzvah, however, is that one is only required to help if the owner of the animal is participating, as the Pasuk says “Hakim Takim Ito: You shall lift it (the animal) with him.”

The Chofetz Chaim says that this applies to our relationship with Hashem as well. We can be lifted up by Hashem: He can help us achieve great heights. But this only works if we participate as well. As Chazal say: “Haba L’taher, Misayin Oso” one is helped Min HaShamiyim in his quest for Taharah, but he must take the first step. It must be a situation of “Hakim Takim Ito.”

We cannot lose sight of the fact that Hashem wants us to succeed in our fight against that Yetzer Harah, and if we allow him, he will in fact help us succeed.

I heard a thought this week that takes this even one step further.

We say Modeh Ani every morning upon waking up. We thank Hashem for returning our Neshama to us. Our Neshama is our Chelek Elokah M’Mal, the piece of Hashem that is found in each of us, the piece of Kedusha that allows us to act as Ovdei Hahsem. Throughout the day, however, we inevitably do things that are contrary to the Kedusha of our Neshama: we lose battles with the Yetzer Harah. Each night our Neshama goes back to Hashem and begs not to be returned to this earth, for it cannot stand to be besmirched by our Aveiros.

Therefore when we awake and realize that we have once again been given our Neshama, we thank Hashem—Chadashim L’bekarim, each day represents an opportunity to be Oved Hashem and not to fall to the Yetzer Harah.

At the end of the short sentence we say “Rabah Emunasecha: Great is your trust.” We are reminded that the fact that Hashem sent our Neshamos back to us represents the level of confidence he has in us. Each day Hashem truly believes that we can beat the Yetzer Harah, and win the war.

We must have the same faith in ourselves. Our job is to arise each morning with a sincere desire to avoid the pitfalls of the Yetzer Harah, to face every challenge and emerge victorious.

The Ohr Chaim HaKadosh explains the final words of our Pasuk “V’shavisa Shivyo” in this context to mean that the captor—the Yetzer Harah—will become the captive. We will become the master of our own Yetzer and no longer fall prey to his influence.

Hashem knows we can, and He will help us. We have to take that first step, and then “U’nisano Hashem Elokecha B’yadecha”.