Fighting Submission

The majority of this week’s Parsha is devoted to the meeting between Yaakov and Eisav that took place as Yaakvo and his family returned to Eretz Yisroel after leaving Bais Lavan. These Pesukim, as explained by Chazal, are the source of much instruction about how we are to interact with Eisav in our own world. In fact, a friend of mine who represents the interests of Klal Yisroel at the highest levels of government once told me that there is a Mesorah among those involved in such matters that prior to engaging in advocacy relating to issues of significant import, one should review Parshas Vayishlach, as a reminder of how to deal with Eisav that exists today.

Within these Pesukim, just as Yaakov finishes preparing to meet his brother, but before theactial encounter, we are told of the fight between Yaakov and the Malach which took place at Mavar Yabok. Of course Chazal tell us that this was not just a Malach, but was actually the Saro Shel Eisav—the representation of Eisav in the spiritual realm. Just like there is an Eisav in the physical world, who seeks to wipe Bnei Yisroel off the face of the Earth, there is a spiritual Eisav—one who wishes to destroy our Yiddishkeit.

The rest of the Parsha discusses Yaakov’s encounter with the physical Eisav, and is therefore instructional as far as our dealing with physical threats. This section, however, tells us how Yaakov interacted with the spiritual Eisav, and can therefore help us understand how to battle those who seek to destroy our Ruchnias—including our own Yitzrei Harah. The Eisav of Gashmius—who desires our complete destruction—lets us be from time to time, as the Passuk tells us: “VaYashav Bayom HaHu Eisav LiDarcho.” The Saro Shel Eisav, on the other hand, seeks to disturb our spiritual existence without pause, as the Passuk says with regard to the Malach: “Ad Alos HaShachar: Until the morning” and Chazal explain that “the morning” refers to the Geulah HaAsida. This being the case it would seem prudent to focus on the lessons we can gain from this part of the Parsha.

The Passuk tells us that while engaged in battle, the Malach realized that he was unable to win over Yaakov; that he wouldn’t be able to totally defeat him. He therefore hit him on the thigh: “VaYar Ki Lo Yuchal Lo, Vayiga B’kaf Yericho.” After doing so, he asked Yaakov to release him and the two entered a discussion in which the Malach told Yaakov that his name would be changed to Yisroel.

The next morning, Yaakov reach a place called Penuel, and the Passuk says: “Vayizrach Lo HaShemesh K’Asher Uvar Es Penuel, V’Hhu Tzoleah Al Yericho: And as he passed Penuel the sun rose for him, and he limped upon his thigh. It is only following this that the Torah tells us: “Al Kein Lo Yochlu Bnei Yisroel es Gid Hanasheh: Therefore Bnei Yisroel do not eat the Gid HaNasheh.

If one would ask the average Orthodox Jew why we don’t eat the Gid HaNasheh, they would likely respond that it is because the Malach hit Yaakov on his thigh, in the place of the Gid HaNasheh. A simple reading of the Pessukim, however, seems to indicate otherwise. The Passuk says “Al Kein” with regard to the fact that Yaakov was limping. If the Mitzvah of Gid Hanasheh was a result of the Malach hitting Yaakov, the Torah should have interjected those words during the fight. Rather it seems that the Mitzvah is somehow related to the fact that Yaakov was limping.

There are varying Shitos among the Miforshei HaChumash as to the exact reason for Gid Hanashe, but at its most basic meaning this Mitzvah is a little difficult to understand. Why should we refrain from eating a specific part of an animal because Yaakov Avinu was in some way injured in that part of his body?

Even more puzzling is a discussion that appears in various sources, including the Zohar and the Shel’’a HaKadosh. We know that the number 365 has many connections to our lives: There are 365 days in the year, 365 Mitzvos Lo Saseh, and 365 Gidin in a person’s body. Seforim tell us that all three are correlated: there is a Gid and a Mitzvas Lo Saseh that corresponds to each day of the year. According to the sources above, the day that the Gid HaNasheh itself corresponds to is none other than Tisha B’av. In fact the Shela goes a step further to say that if one eats from the Gid HaNasheh it is akin to eating on Tisha B’av. How can we understand the connection between Tisha B’av and the Gid HaNasheh?

I think that if we can better understand the purpose of the Issur of Gid HaNasheh—what this Mitzvah represents—we can perhaps better understand some of these questions.

The term Gid HaNasheh is itself the source of disagreement among the Miforshim. Most seem to agree that this is not the anatomical name for that particular Gid within the human body. That is, the Gid itself was not known as the Gid HaNasheh until the Malach struck Yaakov in that place—this name came as a result of that encounter.

Rashi, based on the Gemarah in Chullin, says that the term Nasheh means to move or jump— the name Gid Hanasheh reflects the fact that the Gid was moved from its original spot. But Rashi also cites a similar word that appears later on in Sefer Berashis, when Yosef names his son Menashe he says: “Ki Nashani Elokim Es Kol Amali.” The common translation of the word Nashani comes from the root “to forget.” Some explain that when a person forgets something it is removed from his mind, and therefore the word “Nasheh” and the word “Nashani” have similar meanings.

Other Rishonim, however, explain that the root of the word Nasheh and that of the word Nashim are the same and that they are therefore somehow connected.

Rav Hirsch has a different understanding of the word Nasheh, which I would like to focus on. He explains that the root of this word is “Nosheh” which means a creditor, as the Passuk says: “Lo Sihiyeh Lo KiNoshe.”

The same root is used in the words Nashani and Nashim, both words related to Nasheh as the Rishonim say. R’ Hirsch explains that when Yosef named Menashe he was thanking Hahsem for the fact that he was now a creditor to his father’s house, based on his hard work. In addition, although women seem weaker to the outside world, Rav Hirsch explains that in truth they are the “creditors” of their husbands.

Based on this idea, he writes that the Yesod of the term Gid HaNasheh is submission: just like someone who borrows money places himself at the mercy of his creditor, the Gid Hanasheh represents our submission to Eisav and all that he represents.

The Saro Shel Eisav seeks to destroy all that is holy by making us his slaves, by forcing us to become prisoners of our own Tayvah and our basest instincts. If he succeeds in doing so, he has won half the battle. On that night, Yaakov encountered a physical manifestation of the Yetzer Harah, yet he refers to the Saro Shel Eisav as Elokim, naming the spot Penuel “Ki Raisi Elokim Panim El Panim: Because I saw Elokim face to face.” Why would Yakov refer to the root of spiritual destruction as Elokim?

R’ Tzadok cites a Machlokes about how the Malach appeared to Yaakov. The Passuk says “VaYeavek Ish Imo: and a man wrestled with him,” and the Gemerah in Chullin says that some say he appeared as a Talmid Chacham, and some say as a goy. R’ Tzadok says that perhaps we can resolve the Macholkes by explaining that the Yetzer Harah appeared that day in a manifestation we are all too familiar with: The Frum Yetzer Harah—with a black hat and payos. Sometimes the Saro Shel Eisav succeeds in luring us into his trap by showing us all the benefits of Olam Hazeh, or appealing to our insecutiries; he has many tactics and approaches. But the most dangerous Yetzer Harah is the one that convinces us to do what he wants because they are Mitzvos, as R’ Tzadok says: “He convinces us that bad is good and that darkness is light.”

It was this most lethal YetzerHarah that Yaakov encountered that night. But Yaakov had a number of Shemiors in place to protect himself against this Malach. He was the Ish Tam Yoshev Ohalim: there is no doubt that he had the protection of Limud HaTorah. He also had impeccable Zechus Avos as well as a Havtacha that Hashem would protect hium. Indeed the Saro Shel Eisav could not defeat him: “VaYar Ki Lo Yuchal Lo.” In a last ditch effort, the Yetzer Harah tapped him on the thigh, this was all he could manage.

The next morning, Yaakov realized that he was limping—with all his protections and Zechusim, the mere tap of the Saro Shel Eisav, a passing encounter, affected him in a permanent manner.

“Al Kein Lo Yochlu Bnei Yisroel es Gid Hanasheh”

We live with the Yetzer Harah in our midst--he is lurking at every turn. All too often he appears in the very same manner that he did that night, convincing us that dark is in fact light—and we don’t have the Shemiros of Yaakov Avinu. We are much more vulnerable to the Saro Shel Eisav and his tactics, and when we wrestle with him he has a chance to do more harm that a tap on the thigh.

We stay away from the Gid Hanashe to remind ourselves that we need every possible Shemirah to escape from the grasp of the Yetzer Harah. We cannot be complacent, and think that we have the ability to withstand his treacherous ways—especially when he appears in the form of the Talmid Chacham.

The Gid Hanashe reminds us that even Yaakov Avinu was not free from the impact of the Yetzer Harah, and we must be vigilant in protecting ourselves from him as well.

Perhaps this can help us understand the connection between Gid Hanashe and Tisha B’Av.

The Bais Hamikdash, when it stood, was the ultimate source of Shemirah for Klal Yisroel. The Korbonos—especially the Karbanei Tzibbur—as well as the Bigdei Kehuna, served as sources of protection for each and every member of our great nation. When we lost the Bais Hamikdash we not only lost the central location for us to connect with Hashem, but also a great source of Shemirah.

On Tisha B’av we mourn not only the physical destruction of the Bais Elokeynu, but also the spiritual desolation we are subject to as a result. If someone desecrates that day by eating, he shows that the loss of the Bais Hamikdash is unimportant to him. By making light of the loss we suffered on that day he shows that he feels that the lack of Shemirah provided by the Mikdash, the Karbonos and the Bigdei Kehunah are not that impactful in his life. In doing so he violates not only Tisha B’Av, but also the spirit of the Mitzvah of Gid Hanasheh: a person who is willing to face the Yetzer Harah, confident in his ability to prevail, has not learned the lesson of Yaakov Avinu.

As we face the Saro Sehl Eisav on a daily basis, we must not fall into a false sense of security—we have to learn the lesson of the Gid Hanasheh. We can take advantage of the Shemiros provided by Limud Hatorah and Tefillah—which is B’Makom Karbonos—and do our utmost to stay out of the reach of his grasp.

In this way we can be Zoche to resist the Yetzer Harah “Ad Alos HaShachar.”