The Echo Chamber of the Evil Inclination and More Bava Basra 135-138

135

The Echo Chamber of the Evil Inclination

Our Gemara on Amud Beis addresses a case where a deceased person’s will was found tied to his thigh, a way to secure important documents in that era. In Maaseh Shem (Avos 33), this principle is applied to Esav’s angel wrestling Yaakov and striking his thigh (Bereishis 32:26), as if intending to destroy the document representing Esav’s sale of the birthright to Yaakov.

This interpretation is clever, but there are other profound explanations for the angel’s attack on Yaakov’s thigh. Some Midrashic and mystical sources suggest that the thigh represents one’s descendants—perhaps due to its proximity to the reproductive organs or the fact that, metaphorically, children carry on their parent’s legacy, walking in their footsteps. Talmudic idioms such as “the son is the feet of the father” allude to children continuing their parent’s work. According to these sources, including Beis Yaakov al HaTorah (Vayishlach 30), Bereishis Rabbah (77:3), and the Zohar (Vayishlach 100-101), Esav’s angel could not harm Yaakov directly but was able to plant some form of spiritual “toxicity” in Yaakov’s lineage that would echo down through future generations.

The Kli Yakar offers a strikingly different interpretation. He points to Yaakov’s decision to return alone for “small vessels” he had left behind when Esav’s angel attacked him (see Rashi on Bereishis 32:25). Having just escaped his father-in-law Lavan with substantial wealth and possessions, Yaakov allowed himself to be swayed—perhaps unconsciously—by his assets, to the point of endangering himself for these minor vessels. The Kli Yakar uses this episode to illustrate the nature of the yetzer hara (evil inclination), comparing it to a fly: small, persistent, and able to exploit even the tiniest “crack” in one’s defenses (Berachos 61a). The Kli Yakar argues that Yaakov’s momentary lapse in judgment—his attachment to trivial objects—created the “crack” through which the yetzer hara could exploit him.

The symbolism of the thigh itself may hint at these “inflection points” in our engagement with the physical world, where the yetzer hara can enter, as it is a large bone and socket combination that is used to ambulate in this world and takes much pressure between the body (self) and the ground (the world). For Yaakov, his livelihood required working for Lavan and ultimately receiving compensation. This necessity, however, created a subtle but potent vulnerability, where his connection to wealth affected him. The thigh, then, is where one’s spiritual “legs” connect with the material world. The text describes their struggle as raising “dust” (Rashi ibid), suggesting the confusion the yetzer hara creates by distorting one’s judgment. The morning sunlight that shines on Yaakov after the struggle represents the clarity and self-awareness that follows self-reflection.

The narrative emphasizes that “Yaakov was left alone” (Bereishis 32:25). Here, the Kli Yakar comments critically, asking what person would risk life and limb for trivial objects? This isolation may hint at how the yetzer hara works: in an echo chamber, isolated from external feedback and the normal reality check of others’ perspectives. Yaakov rationalized retrieving the small vessels, but his reasoning was ultimately flawed—a symptom of the isolation and distorted thinking created by the yetzer hara.

The Kli Yakar’s commentary is powerful, both for its poetic approach and for its surprising critique of Yaakov’s actions, emphasizing how even great individuals can be momentarily affected by the yetzer hara. This account beautifully illustrates the yetzer hara’s subtlety, how it infiltrates unnoticed, distorting thought until clarity and rationality are restored.

136

Real, Real Estate

Our Gemara on Amud Beis presents a well-known dispute between Rav Yochanan and Reish Lakish regarding the nature of property ownership. Specifically, they argue about whether a person who holds the rights to a property’s produce, but does not own the land itself, is considered a landowner. This has various halachic implications, as certain obligations are triggered by land ownership:

Rabbi Yoḥanan holds that purchasing the rights to use land and profit from it equates to full ownership. In contrast, Reish Lakish argues that acquiring rights to the land’s profits is not akin to possessing the property itself.

The Sefer Ateres Yeshuah (Likkutim) interprets this disagreement as a reflection of a deeper theological issue. In rabbinic literature, the rewards one receives in this world for performing mitzvos are sometimes referred to as “the produce” of those mitzvos (see Mishnah Peah 1:1). Thus, Ateres Yeshuah suggests that the dispute between Rav Yochanan and Reish Lakish may also reflect a difference in their attitudes towards reward in this world versus reward in the World to Come.

Given Reish Lakish’s background as a former bandit who later became a penitent, he came to view the pleasures and rewards of this world as distractions, leading him to minimize their importance. For Reish Lakish, then, “rights to the produce” is comparable to mere temporary gain, rather than true acquisition of something substantial. In his view, worldly benefits are inconsequential compared to the eternal rewards of the World to Come. In contrast, Rav Yochanan, who did not have the same history of sin, felt more comfortable finding value in this world’s pleasures as means of engagement and enjoyment. He could see worldly gains as meaningful, with intrinsic value, leading him to consider this “produce” as a form of ownership, if not of the same degree as eternal ownership.

Building on Ateres Yeshuah’s idea, I would offer another interpretation that adds a new perspective, drawing on the Gemara in Succah (52a):

Rabbi Yehuda taught: In the future, at the end of days, God will bring forth the evil inclination and slaughter it in the presence of both the righteous and the wicked. To the righteous, the evil inclination appears as a towering mountain; to the wicked, it appears as a mere strand of hair. Both groups weep. The righteous weep and say, “How did we overcome such a high mountain?” while the wicked weep and say, “How did we fail to overcome such a thin strand of hair?” God marvels along with them, as the verse states: “So says the Lord of hosts: If it seems impossible to the remnant of this people, should it also be impossible in My eyes?” (Zechariah 8:6).

This passage suggests that the evil inclination is relative, its power fluctuating based on an individual’s perspective and life history. Reish Lakish, who had once succumbed to sin, later diminished the significance of worldly pleasure to the point where it became irrelevant to him—a mere “strand of hair.” By contrast, Rabbi Yochanan, who had always resisted sin, perceived worldly pleasures as imposing and substantial, akin to a mountain. For Rabbi Yochanan, the “produce” of this world carried significance, symbolizing a substantial claim on life’s rewards and, in a sense, “ownership.”

Rabbi Yochanan’s and Reish Lakish’s perspectives illuminate a profound truth about human experience: our perception of worldly enjoyment and the struggle with desire is deeply shaped by our spiritual paths. Rabbi Yochanan, who had consistently resisted temptation, viewed the temptations and pleasures of this world as weighty. Reish Lakish, however, having tasted and ultimately renounced sin, had developed a disdain for the fleeting rewards of this life, seeing them as inconsequential compared to the eternal reward he sought in the World to Come.

137

Promptly Admitting We Were Wrong

Our Gemara on Amud Aleph describes a despicable character type known as a rasha arum—a cunning wicked person—who exploits the law for morally questionable purposes. This type of person, the Gemara explains, is one who advises someone to sell property in line with the ruling of Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel, though not permitted to do so. The act is technically valid, but it deprives another designated party of their right to the property. This rasha arum is exploiting a legal loophole, and yet he derives no benefit nor has any good motivation; his cunningness is driven purely by the thrill of manipulating the system at another’s expense.

Rabbinic literature describes various forms of the rasha arum, all revolving around individuals who manipulate or subvert the law. For example, in Sotah (21b), we find that one who teaches a person how to manipulate legal claims to prevail in a Jewish court is considered a rasha arum. In secular legal systems, legal representation and technical maneuvering are expected parts of the process, but in Jewish law, sincerity and truth are paramount, and judges aim to discern the true nature of each claim. The rasha arum, however, distorts this by relying on legal technicalities to circumvent justice.

The most surprising example of this type of character appears in Bamidbar Rabbah (20), describing the actions of the wicked Bilaam. In an extraordinary moment, Bilaam tells the angel of God, “I have sinned,” knowing that the verbal confession alone would protect him from immediate punishment:

“Bilaam said to the angel of the Lord: I have sinned” – because he was a rasha arum, a cunning wicked person, he knew that confession has the power to ward off punishment, as anyone who sins and says, ‘I have sinned,’ is granted temporary reprieve.”

Eitz Yosef on the Midrash elaborates that Bilaam’s confession lacked true sincerity, as evidenced by his decision to continue his journey to curse the Jewish people despite claiming he had erred. He did not turn back; instead, he simply used the confession as a shield, understanding its protective power without any intention of genuine repentance.

This narrative reveals a remarkable principle about the power of verbal confession, even when insincere. To say the words “I have sinned” has a unique, protective quality; it carries an almost apotropaic power, creating a temporary barrier against punishment. The power of these words comes not from the speaker’s inner sincerity, but from the mere act of admitting fault, showing how significant it is in the cosmic scheme, even if the person confessing does so only for selfish gain.

138

One Day At A Time

Our Gemara on amud aleph explores various situations in which someone is given property or a gift, and the recipient remains silent. Does this silence imply consent, or could it simply reflect a decision to defer dealing with it? In some cases, the opinion is that silence does not necessarily mean agreement, as the individual may be thinking, “Why should I worry about this now?” As the Gemara notes, some people may choose not to raise objections until the property is actually transferred, reasoning, “To what end will I shout if it’s not even in my possession yet?”

This Gemara subtly brings up an aspect of personality: some people anticipate and prepare for potential issues far in advance, while others wait until the situation requires their immediate attention. These two personality types reflect different approaches to handling potential stress or future obligations.

This attitude of avoiding worry over an uncertain future aligns with a sentiment from Ben Sirah (28:1), also quoted in Yevamos (63b): 

“Do not suffer from tomorrow’s troubles, as you do not know what a day will bring.”

The Arvei Nachal (Bereishis 6) suggests this is also the best approach to overcoming temptation. When viewed as a lifetime challenge, resisting temptation can seem an insurmountable obstacle. But by breaking it down to a single day at a time, it becomes a more manageable task. Facing only today’s challenge and not burdening oneself with tomorrow’s, one can tackle it in smaller, digestible steps. This approach aligns with slogans familiar in recovery communities, like “Easy does it” and “One day at a time.”

The Arvei Nachal’s perspective helps us see that even enduring goals can feel attainable when framed in present, momentary terms. Each day’s success is like a link in a chain of accomplishment, built steadily over time without the need to bear the weight of the entire journey all at once.