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    VAYISHLAH: THE “DUST”

    We read in Parashat Vayishlah
    that as Yaakov Avinu made his
    way back to Eretz Yisrael, a
    mysterious man attacked him,
    and wrestled with him
    throughout the night. Yaakov
    ultimately emerged victorious,
    although he sustained an injury to his hip, that
    made him limp.
    The Rabbis explained that this mysterious
    attacker was Saro Shel Esav – the angel of Eisav,
    the Satan, the force of evil, the yetzer ha’ra that
    tries to lead us to sin.
    To understand the significance of this incident,
    we need to take note of the word used to describe
    the fight between Yaakov and this angel:
    Va’yavak (32:25). The root of this word is Avak,
    which means “dust.” Rashi explains that this
    word is used because when two people wrestle
    with one another, they kick up dust into the
    air. The Gemara (Hulin 91a) teaches that the
    dust that Yaakov and the angel kicked up during
    their fight ascended all the way to the heavens.
    In other words, the fight between good and evil,
    the struggle that we wage against our yetzer
    ha’ra, is a fight about the dust.
    What does this mean?
    The Gemara elsewhere (Baba Batra 165a)
    teaches that virtually all people are guilty of
    Avak Lashon Ha’ra – literally, “the dust
    of lashon ha’ra.” Most committed Jews avoid
    outright lashon ha’ra. We don’t sit and indulge

    in gossip and spread embarrassing information
    about people. But almost everyone is guilty of
    “sort of” lashon ha’ra – of innuendos, of remarks
    which might not qualify as direct lashon ha’ra,
    but are clearly intended to make somebody else
    look not great.
    This is what avak, “dust,” means – the subtle,
    small particles of “dust” that we put on an
    otherwise clean, beautiful Torah life.
    The yetzer ha’ra doesn’t approach us and try to
    get us to violate Shabbat or eat non-kosher
    food. The yetzer ha’ra doesn’t tempt us to go
    over to somebody we’re upset at and say,
    “You’re a terrible person,” or “I hate you.” We
    are all good people who are committed to Torah
    values. And we’re nice and ethical. We aren’t
    going to do something awful.
    But what the yetzer ha’ra does instead is get us
    to kick up “dirt.” It gets us to make a somewhat
    insensitive comment that hurts somebody, to say
    something subtly offensive, to do something
    that isn’t precisely proper according
    to halachah. This is the battle that we face.
    The pasuk in Mishleh (10:32) says, “The lips of
    the righteous person know how to earn
    favor.” Rashi explains that a tzadik, a righteous
    person, knows how to earn Hashem’s favor
    through his prayer, and also knows how to make
    people feel good with his words.
    Knowing how to say the right thing, how to
    speak sensitively, how to speak to people in a
    way which makes them comfortable and at ease

    around you, is very difficult. Somebody who
    does this all the time is a tzadik. This doesn’t
    mean that the rest of us are bad people. It just
    means that the rest of us kick up “dust” in our
    relationships. We’re good people, we’re nice,
    and we don’t want to hurt people, but sometimes
    we say the wrong thing, we create “dust.” This
    is the struggle that we face, and this is the
    struggle that we must try to win.
    Rabbi Paysach Krohn told the story of a man
    who was part of a daily Torah learning group
    that got together to learn every morning. This
    fellow was in charge of giving out coffee to all
    the participants. He made a point of knowing
    exactly how each and every member of the
    group liked his coffee – with milk, without milk,
    with or without sugar, with or without artificial
    sweetener, strong or not too strong, very hot or
    not too hot, etc. He ensured to give each person
    precisely the coffee that he wanted.
    But there was something very peculiar about the
    way he served the people their coffee – he
    always brought them half a cup. If they finished
    and wanted more, he would happily bring them
    more, but he always gave them no more than
    half a cup.
    One morning, he was not feeling well, so he sent
    his son to serve everybody their coffee. He
    prepared for his son a detailed list explaining
    how each member of the group liked their
    coffee.
    As the son was preparing the coffee in the shul,

    the father showed up.
    “Dad, I thought you weren’t feeling well,” his
    son asked.
    “Yes, but I needed to come because I forgot to
    tell you something very important – you need to
    make sure to give everyone only half a cup at a
    time!”
    The son didn’t understand. He asked why he
    couldn’t just give everybody a full cup.
    The father explained that there were two elderly
    members of the group whose hands shook
    somewhat. Unless their cup of coffee was only
    half full, the coffee would spill on their
    Gemara. And since they needed half a cup, he
    gave everybody half a cup, so they would not
    feel embarrassed.
    This is an example of a tzadik who understands
    how to avoid the “dust,” how to live a perfectly
    “clean” Torah life, without causing anyone any
    sort of discomfort or pain.
    Let us be strong and resolute in waging this
    battle, and keep all our relationships, both at
    home and outside the home, clean of any “dust,”
    always trying to make people feel comfortable
    and at ease around us.