Parshas Vayishlach 5783
I’ll sometimes raise a question at the Shabbos table—parsha, halacha—and unintentionally solicit a strange response. It’s almost Pavlovian—one of my younger children will shoot a hand up in the air, waiting to be called on.
“Sweetheart, it’s ok, it’s not school.” Yet maybe my kids are on to something.
Dinah’s abduction is not only a personal trauma, but one that impacts her family around her. In sizing up what Yaakov had done to deserve such a harsh punishment, Rashi is surprisingly forthcoming, offering not only one reason, but two.
Rashi first explains that Yaakov is punished for having withheld Dinah from his brother, Eisav. At their fateful meeting, Dinah was nowhere to be found because Yaakov had concealed her from sigh, fearing that his brother might set his eyes upon her and wish to take her as a wife.
But Rashi subsequently offers a different explanation—that Yaakov is punished for having tarried en route back to Eretz Yisrael. Had Yaakov journeyed more swiftly back to his parents’ home, Dina would not have been taken.
So which one is it? Was the punishment of Dinah’s abduction brought on by Yaakov’s unwillingness to entertain her marriage to Eisav? Or was it a function of acting without the requisite zeal to return to his parents’ home?
Rav Avraham Orenstein, author of the Divrei Avraham answers simply, it was both.
Yaakov could not possibly be taken to task for being unwilling to marry his daughter off to Eisav. Allowing his daughter to enter into a marriage with Eisav would have been completely reckless. Was Yaakov to believe that Dinah’s marriage to Eisav’s would have created such a comprehensive turnaround in the environment of his home that it would be an appropriate place for Dinah to live?
No, certainly not. Unless there was further influence from elsewhere.
When Yaakov and Eisav part ways, Eisav urges that they travel together, side by side. Yaakov refuses. Eisav, after all is heading to Mount Seir, and Yaakov intends to return back to his parents’ home. Ultimately, though, Yaakov doesn’t head straight back. He delays, stopping along the way. If, in reality, he wasn’t in such a rush to return home, then perhaps he could have actually traveled alongside his brother.
It is here, suggests Rav Orenstein, that the two explanations of Rashi merge into one. Yaakov is punished for not doing more to help steer his brother back to a good path. Was giving him Dinah as a wife the answer? No, a positive influence at home may not have sufficed. Was traveling alongside him the answer? No, a positive influence from beyond the home may not have been enough.
But together, they would have done the trick. Yaakov and the burgeoning camp that his growing family constituted would have been a powerful influence on Eisav. He’d be surrounded by people who committed to Hashem in their dress, speech, and deeds. He’d see them davening and learning. And lest Eisav believe he could simply retreat to his own home to escape it all, there would be Dinah, exhibiting the same sort of behavior that Eisav saw all around him. With strong influences both beyond his home and within his home, Eisav really could have changed.
I don’t want my kids to raise their hands at the Shabbos table. But maybe they’re on to something, that synergy between home and school—influences from without and influences from within—is critical. Chinuch is not something that can be outsourced to school. If not reinforced at home—through our own behavior as parents and the expectations we make of both ourselves and our children—the chinuch we’re providing our children is under developed.
But chinuch cannot only be the product of the home. However rich and vibrant an atmosphere we may create in our homes, however clear we may articulate our family’s values and truly live them, influences beyond the home are incredibly powerful. Knowing what’s happening in our kids’ schools, knowing who their friends are, knowing who and what they’re connecting with online. Assuming that they will transcend a barrage of negative influences because they know what their family stands for is simply asking too much.
And by the same token, when we assess the relationship between external and internal influences, it is critical that we consider our own lives as well, not only those of our children. How well-integrated are the environments we ourselves travel in? Does my kosher home give me license to keep close company with individuals who are sorely out of step with my goals and values? Does my stellar chevrah permit me to do what I want, watch what I want, or act how I want at home? Do I see the world outside my home as a welcome retreat from the values I live by in my home? Do I see my home as a chance to escape the pressures of living by the values of my friends, shul, and community?
Adults and children alike thrive on consistency and integrity. When we create an atmosphere reflective of what we aspire to become, we must do so both inside and out. There is no limit to how much we can develop and grow as people when we surround ourselves by the right influences, both within our homes and beyond them.