Even in times of war, can we open our hearts?

In Israel, depending on how you count, we have been fighting the longest war in our history. Hamas thrust this battle upon us, and other states and violent groups joined the fray. After a year of fighting simultaneously on multiple fronts and having taken a tragic toll on lives and injuries, we seem to have the upper hand. In its wake, this war has invigorated antisemitism worldwide. Arsonists have burnt Synagogues, attacked Jews on their way to pray, and killed innocent people for being Jewish. Despite Israel’s victories on the battlefield, the times seem very dark for the Jewish people.

The Jewish people’s ancestor, Jacob, also fought during dark times. The Torah recounts that a strange figure attacked him while preparing to face his brother Esau and his army. “Jacob remained alone, and a man struggled with him until dawn.” (Genesis 32:25) The rabbis suggest that the man is none other than Esau’s guardian angel. Whatever the identity of the mysterious man, Jacob bested him, but not without suffering injury.  The wound in Jacob’s thigh remains a source of the prohibition of eating the sciatic nerve even today. Wars inflict pain on all sides. Looking around my neighborhood, I understand this lesson all too well.
Rising that morning, Jacob proceeds to meet Esau. After their last encounter, the older brother swore to kill the younger. Jacob must have been filled with dread when he raised his eyes and beheld Esau’s approach. With an army of four hundred strong, Esau appeared prepared to fulfill the murderous promise he made so many years before.

But then something miraculous happens. Upon seeing Jacob, Esau runs to him: “Esau ran towards [Jacob] and hugged him, he fell on his neck, he kissed him, and they wept.” (33:4) Overcome with emotion, Esau reaches out with great emotion, and they both cry.

One of the magical properties of the Torah rests in the multiple ways of encountering the text. One can listen to the voice of a reader and hear the Torah. One can read the text to understand the words’ meaning. And one can look at the text. Each method offers a different facet and experience.  The word “he kissed” requires the ability to see the letters. Like a few other letters and words in the Torah, “he kissed” must be visualized. Several dots hover above the word. The word and its dots demand attention.

Furthermore, when Esau runs to Jacob and kisses him, the verbs are singular, yet the Hebrew word “they wept” is plural. They both cried. Yet the dots seem to declare something special or unique about the kiss and the following weeping. Unique or surprising elements in the text are where the rabbis in midrashic works come in.

Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai in the Sifrei Bamidbar, quoted by Rashi, makes a social-psychological declaration, “Is it not known, that Esau hates Jacob?” Many sermons over the millennia declared this as an immutable fact. According to tradition, Esau becomes the archetype of those who hate the Jews, the father of Rome and, by extension, the Church based there. According to the rabbinic adage, the experiences of the biblical patriarchs are a sign or pattern for their descendants.  Esau hates Jacob, and hence, Christianity despises the Jews. Many apply this calculus to the Islamic world. “In every generation,” goes the Passover Haggadah, “they arise against us to destroy us.” Only reliance on God offers protection.

Yet these strange dots stand out.

The full text of the midrash reads,

the dots…[over the word] ‘[Esau] kissed him’ teaches us that [Esau] kissed him half-heartedly. Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai says, ‘Is it not known, that Esau hates Jacob?’ However, at that moment, empathy overwhelmed and [Esau] kissed [Jacob] whole heartedly. (Sifrei Bamidbar 9:10)

According to Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, emotion got the best of Esau, and he embraced his younger brother completely. Familial love won out.

Extending the impact of this act of hatred turned to love, the great nineteenth-century leader of the yeshiva of Volozhin, Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin (Netziv), makes a profound remark.

“‘They wept,’ both of them cried. This [plural verb] teaches us that the emotion of love also overwhelmed Jacob. And so it shall be throughout the generations. When the spirit of purity awakens the descendants of Esau to recognize the virtue of the Jewish people, then we will awaken to recognize (respect?) Esau [‘s descendants], for he is our brother.” (HaEmek Davar Gen. 33:4)

According to Netziv, we learn about the love of our fellow man from the terror-filled encounter between Esau and Jacob. At the moment when it seemed that all-out war was about to break out, Esau recognized Jacob’s humanity. As the wisest of all humans said, “Like [a reflection in the] water, face to face, so is the heart of one person to another.” (Proverbs 27:19). When Jacob felt that Esau respected his humanity, Jacob realized that they were brothers and reacted with love.

Netziv’s comment is remarkable when placed in the historical context. Netziv lived and led the yeshiva in Volozhin when the Russian authorities lacked any respect for the Jews. Forced to live in the Pale of Settlement, Jews endured increasingly oppressive laws, and pogroms decimated Jewish communities.  Under tremendous pressure, Netziv was forced to close the doors of the great yeshiva. Despite the hardship he endured at the hands of the Russian-Christian authorities, he recognized that the Torah was sending a message of hope and possible reconciliation through mutual respect and understanding.

Esau recognized the futility of hate, at least for a moment. That enabled both brothers to recognize each other’s infinite worth. We are all created in the divine image. As Rabbi Akiva taught, “beloved is man for he was created in God’s image. It is a greater love that it was made known to him that he was created in God’s image, as it is said, ‘For in the image of God did He make man’ (Genesis 9:6).” (Avot 3:14)

The dark times we live in don’t admit much light. During war, it is hard to recognize that we can achieve a better future once we recognize our mutual humanity. Netziv suggests that the story of the warring brothers can serve as a model for a better future built on brotherly love and mutual respect. While this may seem like a dream at the moment, during that long dark night of struggle,  Jacob probably also believed reconciliation was a dream. But eventually, “they [both] wept.”

May God help us to see each other’s humanity. May our hostages return home to their loved ones, may he protect our soldiers, may this horrible war and hatred end, and may the words of the prophet be fulfilled and “the shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation shall not lift up sword against nation; and they shall not learn war anymore.” (Isaiah 2:4)