How are we to imagine the tone of Yaakov’s voice in the message he sent
his brother? “With Lavan I dwelled/ garti…” Rashi offers us two
understandings of Yaakov’s intent.
The word garti may convey the impermanence of its root,
ger. Yaakov would be relating that Esav needn’t rue the loss of
their father’s berachah. It did not translate into the kind of
success that Esav was interested in. Yaakov remained a ger, a
wanderer and stranger who had not succeed in putting down roots. Yaakov’s
mood would then be muted, subdued and restrained.
Alternatively, garti may be taken as an anagram for taryag,
or the 613 commandments of the Torah. Yaakov’s message would then be one
of confidence and triumph: I am not one to trifle with. I spiritually
held my own against all odds, surviving with my ruchniyus intact in
the house of Lavan. I survived him; I will survive you.
These are not variations on a theme. They seem to be mutually exclusive,
to tell two different stories.
If we examine this episode for its avodah-instruction to us, we
realize that it is all about our own battle with our yetzer hora.
The struggle is never easy – but it at least seems possible to withstand
the wiles of the yetzer hora when it conducts a conventional
campaign, tempting us with all sorts of desires and lusts. When the
yetzer hora comes after us in two completely different forms and
guises, we might easily despair of holding our own. We might think of
fighting a battle on one front, but find ourselves crushed by the prospect
of a multi-frontal assault.
Yaakov alludes to such an assault. “Save me, please, from the hand of my
brother, from the hand of Esav.” Yaakov speaks of a two-pronged battle.
Esav here represents pure, unvarnished yetzer hora, urging a person
to taste all sorts of forbidden pleasures. The temptation can be strong –
but we have proven strategy of meeting evil with good. We can help
ourselves accomplish sur me-ra, turning back from evil, through
asei tov, increasing our involvement with good. The poison of the
yetzer hora has an antidote in Torah. Every mitzvah that we
perform further weakens the power the yetzer hora holds over us.
To offset this, however, the yetzer hora embraces a very different
strategy, coming to us not as Esav, but as a “brother.” It offers no
resistance to our performance of mitzvos, preferring instead to “create
blemishes in the sacred.”2 It tries to lessen the effect of our
avodas Hashem by cheapening it, by lacing our Torah and our
service of Hashem with pride and ulterior motives. By thus perverting our
Torah and mitzvos, they become the property of the Sitra Achra3.
Their power to protect us from the more direct overtures of the yetzer
hora is nullified in the process.
We can understand Yaakov’s dividing his camp in two along these lines. In
the struggle against the yetzer hora (as symbolized by Esav), some
would expend much effort in deepening their humility and self-abnegation,
in order to better resist the yetzer hora’s attempt to contaminate
their mitzvos with pride and ulterior motives. Others – a second camp –
would assume the opposite stance. They would stand up to the yetzer
hora, directly battling its seductive appeal to baser lusts and
It is sometimes crucial to take the strong, determined posture against the
yetzer hora. We find an allusion to this in the story of Yosef and
Potiphar’s wife, as explicated by the Bais Avraham . In her
attempt to get Yosef to sin, his master’s wife grabs on to his cloak, his
beged, a word which, Chazal teach, is related to begidah,
treachery. Potiphar’s wife seized Yosef’s previous indiscretions: “Do you
imagine yourself to be perfect? You are far from it! How much of a
difference will it make if you commit one more sin?” The yetzer
hora attempts to ensnare us with a false, counterproductive humility,
telling us to think less of ourselves than we ought to. Yosef responds
perfectly. “There is none greater in this house than myself.” Yosef
employs gaavah de-kedusha, a holy pride, elevating his heart in the
service of Hashem to assert his worth. “What you would have me do is
unworthy of someone as important as myself! I will not do it!”
Which of these two approaches – unbending strength, or self-effacing
humility – is the more important? In truth, every person must employ
both. This might seem strange. The two approaches would seem to draw on
antipodal qualities that cannot coexist within the same personality.
While it might seem that way, it is important to know that this is not
true in regard to spiritual quests. In all other regards, ahavah
and yirah4 cannot reign at the same moment within the same
person. When it comes to the service of Hashem, however, “Anochi”
and “Lo yih’yeh lechah” were stated together5. In conventional
pursuits, all things have their own goals and purposes, often making them
incompatible with each other. In the pursuit of ruchniyus,
however, the goal is always to get closer to Hashem. Here, ahavah
and yirah do not annihilate each other, but serve as different
means to the same end, an end which unites them rather than separates
them. When a person meekly yields himself up entirely to Hashem, the
Sitra Achra loses his power over him – and he is freed up to become
the very opposite: strong, confident and direct in battling the yetzer
This, then, is what Yaakov meant by the double entendre of garti.
He definitely meant both, serially and sequentially. “I lived simply and
discretely, like the impermanent ger. I did not become haughty and
self-important.” This humility made room for him to boast that he had
remained true to the 613 mitzvos, that he was indeed a force to contend
with.” The contradiction is its own resolution.
Having come this far, we can also state that Yaakov’s two camps may not
refer to two different groups of Jews. Rather, we are required to divide
our internal forces between these seemingly opposing strategies that in
striving for spiritual advancement are not contradictory at all.
1 Based on Nesivos Shalom, pgs. 216-218 2 An allusion to the halacha that certain blemishes disqualify
consecrated animals from being offered in the Temple. 3 Lit. the other side, i.e the cosmic force of evil 4 Love and fear: two different modes of serving G-d, that stem from two
very different expressions of our personalities. The former is expansive,
the latter limiting and restrictive. In the context of this piece,
ahavah would lead to rising to the occasion with a new-found
confidence, whereas yirah would lead to the restrained and muted
response. 5 I.e. the first two of the Ten Commandments were uttered
simultaneously according to Chazal. The first is an affirmative
obligation (and therefore, like all affirmative obligations, a reflection
of ahavah). The second sets in place a prohibition, a restriction.
We summon up yirah, reverence for Hashem and fear of the
consequences of disobedience, when we submit to their strictures.