02 Dec VAYISHLACH: YAAKOV’S THREE-STEP PROGRAM TOWARD SERENITY TRIBUTE, PRAYER AND WAR

Two Perspectives
Sherlock Holmes and
Dr. Watson go
camping together,
they put up a tent and
go inside to enjoy a
tranquil rest near the
fire. In middle of the
night, Sherlock turns to Dr. Watson and says,
“So what are you thinking about now”?
Watson responds: “Sherlock! This is awesome.
I’m gazing at the celestial stars hovering
above us, I’m overwhelmed by the romantic
splendor of the night, and I’m engulfed by the
picturesque view of the Double Decker.
“And what are you thinking
about”? asks Watson.
“That someone stole our tent,” Sherlock
replies.
Tribute, Prayer, and War
Following thirty-four years of separation from
his parents, Yaakov sets out with his family to
return from Mesopotamia to his home in the
Land of Israel. On his way, he learns that his
brother Esav is advancing toward him with an
imposing army of 400 troops.

the Torah relates in the opening of
parshat Vayishlach how Yaakov prepares for

his confrontation with Esav through a three-
pronged strategy of “tribute, prayer, and war.”

Yaakov first sent lavish gifts to Esav to
assuage his wrath. These gifts included goats,
ewes, camels, cows, bulls, and donkeys. Next,
Yaakov engaged in a heartfelt prayer,
surrendering himself and his fate to G-d’s
compassion. Finally, Yaakov readied himself
and his family for war with Esav.
The Daily Battle
The stories in the Torah are not just events that
occurred at a certain point in history, involving
particular characters. They are also reflections
of spiritual and emotional episodes that occur
continuously in every human heart.
Man is a duality: He is a mountain of dust and
a vision of G-d. The twin brothers Yaakov and
Esav embody, respectively, these polar forces
within the human person. Esav embodies our
self-centered, egotistical, and animalistic
identity, while Yaakov personifies our
transcendent, spiritual and idealistic soul.
The enmity and rivalry between the siblings
reflect the tension and struggle between the
two forces in our lives: the struggle between
our ego and our humbleness, between our

selfish cravings and our noble aspirations, and
between our impulsive lusts and our altruistic
yearnings.
None of us is exempt from this daily
confrontation with “Esav.” We constantly are
overwhelmed with materialistic burdens,
selfish moods, and immoral appetites. The
incessant demands of our selfish and beastly
consciousness present a threat to kill the “
Yaakov “ within us.
How does one deal with these potent forces,
which, seemingly, are much more powerful
than the holy forces within us? We must
employ Yaakov’s three-step program of
tribute, prayer, and war.
Honoring Your Animal
First of all, we must grant Esav some of our
assets. We have to acknowledge the animal
consciousness living within us and honor its
presence by granting it its needs. We must eat,
sleep, exercise, earn a living and engage in an
ongoing relationship with the physical world
around us. The animal soul deserves to receive
a lavish daily tribute from us, which includes
our time, energy, and resources.
Yet, how do we ensure that we don’t overdo
it? How do we guarantee that our daily tributes
to the animal identity within us will not
place it at the center of our lives,
supplanting the spiritual soul as the true
core of our identity?
For this, Yaakov must engage in prayer.
“Rescue me,” Yaakov prays as Esav
approaches, “from the hand of my brother,
from the hand of Esav. I am afraid of him,
for he may come and smite me.” Why the
redundancy “from the hand of my brother,
from the hand of Esav”?
There would be no need to fear Esav’s
influence if we were detached from the
Esav reality; if we were to live as spiritual
ascetics. Yet Judaism demands that Esav
become our “brother;” that we engage our
bodily and animal needs, and that we deal
with the physical world around us. Under
these conditions, the only way we can
ensure that Esav does not dominate and
control our lives is through prayer.
The Gift of Prayer
What is prayer? Just as there is a time to
engage the animal soul and pay tribute to
its needs and desires, there is a time each
day when we let go of our physical identity
and enter into the transcendental oasis of
our soul. It is the time when we put the ego
to sleep and we discover our inner love and
spirituality.
All day, we think about our tents; during
prayer, we focus on the stars, on the
splendor and meaning of life.
Have you ever experienced the power of
prayer? Sadly, most synagogues are more

like cemeteries or chicken markets rather than
spiritual islands where one may return home
to his soul. That’s a pity, because lacking the
daily experience of genuine prayer we
inevitably become vulnerable to the onslaught
from the Esav within.
For example, when you don’t pray, meditate
and connect to your soul in the morning, you
often lack the courage and vision to control
the food addiction of the Esav-impulse and
you engage in an unhealthy breakfast. When
you go to the office, you may lack the fortitude
to conduct your business affairs honestly.
Prayer ensures that the tribute we present to
our animal soul does not exhaust us completely
till we have nothing left to call our own.
Under the Knife
Yet, all of the above does not suffice. Yaakov
must also prepare himself for war. Some of the
urges and passions of our animal soul cannot
be dealt with through prayer alone. We must
declare war against them.
At times during the day or the night, we are

overtaken by a powerful, animalistic Esav-
like urge that is burning in our hearts like a

baker’s furnace. At such a moment there is
only one thing to do: You must take your fist,
punch the impulse in its face and get on with
your life. War is a nasty thing, but at times it is
our only hope to survive the onslaught of a
demon that is determined to kill us.
A story:
One of the great Chassidic
masters, Reb Simcha Bunam of Pshescah,
once remarked that the true definition of a
spiritual man is he who always imagines his
head lying in a guillotine, his Yatzer Harah
hovering above it, ready to chop off his head
at a moment’s call.
“But Rebbe,” asked one of the Chassidim,
“what if one does not have that feeling?”
“In that case,” the Rebbe responded, “his head
has been chopped off already.”