Overcoming Fear: Vayishlach

Overcoming Fear: Vayishlach

Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

November 30, 2017

Psychologists say that human beings are born with the capacity to fear.  Fear, you might say, is built into our DNA; it’s part of our defensive mechanism.  We are afraid of dying, afraid of falling, afraid of being hurt.

Granted, some fears are learned.  We learn from eating bad or spoiled food that it might kill us.  That’s a good thing to learn, and has led to many discoveries and inventions—such as refrigerators, and not to eat mushrooms we do not recognize.

Some fears are triggered at a later stage in our life, perhaps as a result of an experience we just had.  Fear of the unknown is perhaps one of those fears we are all born with—and quite possibly the one that we are least capable of controlling.

We learn about all sorts of dangers from our parents and teachers, and certainly from our own life experience.  Some of our fears may even turn into anxieties, or neuroses.

Jacob, son of Isaac, grandson of Abraham, had much to fear, not least being his twin brother, Esau. Esau couldn’t be trusted; Jacob knew that.  He was impetuous and quick to rage. Additionally, however, a fact that everyone knew was that once provoked, Esau’s thirst for revenge was insatiable. Nearly twelve years after tricking his brother into selling him the birthright for a bowl of stew, Jacob had to flee and seek refuge in a foreign land because of Esau’s ongoing murderous and smoldering rage.

One can only imagine Jacob’s distress that first night away from home—the first time that he could remember not being surrounded by his mother’s love and protection. 

But Jacob was a smart lad.  From his mother’s side of the family, he learned to barter and negotiate—skills he found useful in his dealings with Laban, his mother’s brother.  And he knew enough to sense jealousy when his in-laws began to envy his success and tried to trick him, much as he had—years earlier—tricked Esau.

In this week’s Torah portion, Vayishlach (Genesis 32:4—36:43), it is 20 years later, and Jacob is returning home.  Only now he has even more to fear than ever before.  Esau, Jacob learns, is coming at him with a large contingent of armed men on horseback.  And whereas when he left he had nothing but the clothes on his back, he is returning as a wealthy and successful man, with a family, including women and small children, and many flocks and possessions that he needed to protect.

Jacob resorts to tactics he knows well—flattery and bargaining.  He sends gifts to his brother; he tells Esau that seeing his face is like seeing God.  But at the same time he also takes no chances, and he divides his family into two camps—hoping that, if Esau attacks, at least one group might survive.

But that’s only the beginning of Jacob’s travails at this point in his life.  Even though he successfully staves off the danger posed by Esau, he still has to face the uncertainties of survival in a land filled with people who lived by the sword, people who first took what they wanted and only afterwards said please.  Life will not be kind to Jacob: Vayishlach contains the stories of the rape of Dinah, Jacob’s only daughter; the brutally savage revenge exacted by two of his sons, Dinah’s brothers Shimon and Levi; the death of his father, Isaac (and, according to the rabbis, his mother, Rebecca) as well as the death of his mother’s nurse, Deborah, his last remaining connection to his past.  Worst of all, Jacob’s beloved wife, Rachel, dies in giving birth to Benjamin.  Bowed by grief and sorrow, Jacob becomes withdrawn, powerless to control his sons and warn them against the greed, the jealousy and rivalry that he sees rising among them.  Jacob is now even more fearful than ever—afraid for his family, afraid for himself, afraid for the future he took such care to attain and secure.

In his beautiful and often-quoted poem, “Life Is A Journey,” Rabbi Alvin Fine describes the evolutions of the soul.  “From grief to understanding, from fear to faith,” he writes.  It’s an important lesson, one first taught by Jacob.

Having lost so much, Jacob could have given in to his sorrow.  He could have given in to his fear and taken flight once again.  But instead, he chose to fight.  He spends a long night on top of a barren mountain and wrestles with an unknown being—some say it was his own conscience, others that it was Esau himself.  At sunrise, the mysterious stranger admits defeat and grants Jacob a blessing—and a new name, Israel.  “For you have struggled with men and with divine beings, and you have won,” the angel explains the name.  Jacob is now armed with new confidence.  His grief has turned to understanding, and his fear has evolved to faith.

Jacob knew about faith.  He heard about Abraham’s blind obedience to God’s commands; he knew about Isaac’s submission to his fate.  His would be different. His faith is conditional. When God promises Jacob protection along his path, Jacob bargains:  I will worship you, “If you protect me.” Later, uncertain of God’s memory, Jacob, like a child, reminds God of this promise.  At this point, however, he finally begins to understand what true faith really is. 

There is too much of the realist in Jacob.  He will never leave up to chance—or fate, as the Greeks called it—or even to God, the important matters of life.  The business of survival, for example.  But from this moment on, Jacob understands that he is part of a long process.  Just as Abraham and Isaac each had a role to play in the evolution of the Jewish People, so does he now. It will be Jacob’s role to teach his children about walking with God at their side, with God in their hearts, with God’s laws guiding their lives.  He will teach them about faith.

Jacob’s—Israel’s—faith is about hope, about not being afraid, about survival against the odds. It’s about carrying on our mission regardless of the dangers.  It’s about overcoming fear and accomplishing the goals before you.  Faith is the source of strength that lies within each of us.

Fear never goes away.  We learn to control some fears, only to discover new ones.  Yet what we learn from our third Patriarch, Jacob, is not to be discouraged or disheartened.  Our faith is our strength as we take our first steps forward, toward an unknown future, toward a promised day and a promised land. 

© 2017 by Boaz D. Heilman