WHAT IS THE LANGUAGE OF THE HEART?

A father passing by his son's bedroom was astonished to see that his bed was nicely made, and everything was picked up.

Then he saw an envelope, propped up prominently on the pillow addressed to "Dad." With the worst premonition, he opened the envelope with trembling hands and read the letter.
 

Dear Dad:

It is with great regret and sorrow that I'm writing you. I had to elope with my new girlfriend to avoid a scene with Mom and you.

I have been finding real passion with Stacy and she is so nice. But I knew you would not approve of her because of all her piercings, tattoos, tight motorcycle clothes, and the fact that she is much older than I am.

But it's not only the passion...Dad, she's pregnant.

Stacy said that we will be very happy.

She owns a trailer in the woods and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter.

We share a dream of having many more children.

Stacy has opened my eyes to the fact that marijuana doesn't hurt anyone. We'll be growing it for ourselves and trading it with the other people who live nearby for cocaine and ecstasy.

In the meantime, we will pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so Stacy can get better. She deserves it.

Don't worry Dad, I'm 15 and I know how to take care of myself. Someday I'm sure we will be back to visit so that you can get to know your grandchildren.

Love,
Your Son John
 

PS. Dad, none of the above is true. I'm over at Tommy's house. I wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than a report card that's in my center desk drawer.

I love you. Call me when it's safe to come home.

The story grips our emotions. Isaac summons his oldest son Esau and asks him to go hunt game for him, so he can give him a special blessing before he dies; Rebecca overhears the conversation, summons her younger son Jacob and instructs him to disguise himself as Esau, deliver the food she will prepare for Isaac, and receive his father’s blessings.

Jacob follows his mom's orders and receives the blessings. By the time Esau comes back with the food, Isaac says it is too late. In one of the most emotional scenes in the Torah, Esau breaks down sobbing as he discovers he is outsmarted. Devastated, he pleads with his father for a blessing.

The Torah then states: Now Esau harbored a grudge against Jacob because of the blessing which his father had given him, and Esau said to himself, “Let but the mourning period of my father come, and I will kill my brother Jacob.”

When the words of her older son Esau were reported to Rebecca, she sent for her younger son Jacob and said to him, “Your brother Esau is consoling himself by planning to kill you. Now, my son, listen to me. Flee at once to Haran, to my brother Laban. Stay with him a while, until your brother’s fury subsides.

Until your brother’s anger subsides from you—and he forgets what you have done to him. Then I will fetch you from there. Why should I lose both of you in one day?!”

I want to make note of a strange redundancy in Rebecca’s words. She tells her son to flee his brother’s wrath, by escaping to her brother. “Stay with him a while, until your brother’s fury subsides. Until your brother’s anger subsides from you...” Why does she repeat an almost identical phrase, “until your brother’s fury subsides?”

It can’t only be a Jewish mother repeating herself. The second time she says it is inserted into a brand-new verse in the Torah, indicating that it was a novel statement.

Furthermore, the second time around she adds more words, “until your brother’s fury subsides from you.” Why that addition?

Rabbi Yitzchak of Volozhin explains If we read the words in the original Hebrew, Rebecca is not repeating herself at all. She is saying something very novel and potent, even if most readers easily miss the point.

The literal translation of her words is this: Stay with him [Laban] a while until your brother’s fury subsides. Until your brother’s anger subsides from you...”. Rebecca is referring to two different emotions of anger. One from Esau to Jacob; the second—from Jacob to Esau. That’s why the second time around she adds those at the end of her sentence: “Until your brother’s anger subsides from you”—she is referring to the ire Jacob is carrying in his heart toward his brother Esau.

Rebecca is saying something to her beloved son Jacob which is both shocking and revolutionary. “Stay with him [Laban] a while, until your brother’s fury subsides. Until your brother’s anger subsides from you.” How will you know that brother’s rage subsided? When you will cease to feel in your heart anger toward him. If you hold on to your wrath toward him, he will not be able to let go of his. Only when you cleanse your heart from your anger toward your brother, will he be able to “forget what you have done to him.”

We have the earliest biblical reference to what King Solomon would centuries later write in Proverbs:

Just as the face we show the water is reflected by the water, and so is the heart of a human being toward another human being.

Rashi explains so too the heart of a human being is to his fellow human being: if he loves someone, that person will love him too; if he hates someone, that person will hate him back.

The metaphor of Proverbs is precise. Water has no choice: if I smile at the water, it will smile back; if I frown at the water, it will reflect the identical frown. So too it is with people. They have no choice in the matter; it is ingrained in nature. The emotional waves I send toward you will trigger the very emotional waves. If you love me, I will have no choice but to reciprocate that love. The human heart is a mirror.

What is more—as Tanya says it is not even conscious. If you love me, I will love you in return even if I am unaware of your feelings toward me. Sometimes, you feel that you love someone. You are not sure why. You may not have a special connection with him, but you will like this fellow. Why? Because he or she is feeling love toward you—and you are reflecting that love to them, even if you are unaware of the subconscious mechanism.

With this Ketav Sofer explains the verse in Psalms:

In vain do people speak to each other with smooth lips and flattery, for they speak to each other with their hearts.

This is a fascinating verse—articulating a concept that has only become prevalent in our day: Nonverbal communication is far deeper than verbal communication. Don’t think, says the Psalmist, you will be able to deceive someone through smooth and deceitful talk; it will not work for long. People communicate with each other primarily via their hearts. Your heart speaks to my heart; mine speaks to yours. You feel and reflect what is in my heart. If I am genuine, your heart will respond in kind; if I am insincere, your heart will shut down.

So, Rebecca was telling her son Jacob: How will you know that Esau’s fury has abated, that he is capable of moving on? When you peer into your heart and find it cleansed from your resentment toward your brother.  If your heart can make peace with him, his heart will make peace with you.

This is a remarkable interpretation—and it would explain why it is only in this section of the story that the Torah identifies Rebecca as “the mother of Jacob and Esau.” Rebecca was the one who orchestrated for Jacob to seize the blessings from his brother, despite the risks and the pain. She felt this was the right thing to do, as Esau was unsuitable to receive the blessings from Isaac. Yet she was telling her son Jacob, that it is not only Esau who resents Jacob; it is also Jacob who resents Esau—and he will need to learn how to clear that up within his soul if the two brothers should ever experience closure.

How did she know that Jacob resented Esau? Because she saw how much Esau detested Jacob. If the heart is a mirror, she understands that Jacob is experiencing a similar emotion toward Esau.

There is a lovely parable about a peasant who grew up in a barn and never saw a mirror. One day someone treated him to an evening in a fine hotel, where he would sleep in his room, in comfort and privacy. But as he entered the hotel room—he saw another young, disheveled man present in the room, steering right back at him.

He began screaming at the stranger to leave his room at once. But to his dismay, the stranger opened his mouth to him, returning the very same gestures he was making. He lifted his hand to strike the stranger, and to his shock, the stranger returned the same gesture to him, threatening to strike him.

He ran to the lobby lamenting to the manager that there was an intruder in his room...

The manager understood what was happening. There was a mirror in the room—but this fellow had never seen a mirror in his life.

So, the manager took him to the room and said: I know this fellow who lives in your room. He is a very nice and kind fellow; he will not disturb you. If you are nice to him, he will be nice to you. Smile at him, say nice things to him, and he will do the same for you.

And so, it was. He smiled at the stranger, and the stranger smiled back at him...

In Haifa, Israel, there was a large central synagogue where many Jews came to worship on Shabbat and holidays. Next door, a Jew had a clothing store, and he began opening it on Shabbat.

The Jews next door were perturbed. This was a public desecration of Shabbat—right near the central synagogue. It was disrespectful and distasteful. The Rabbi went numerous times to the store to persuade the owner to close his store at least during the hours of services, but he always refused. He told the Rabbi he would never close the store on Shabbat.

In desperation, the Rabbi came to consult with the Seret-Rebbe living in Haifa. The Rebbe listened to the dilemma, then asked the Rabbi: “Do you love this Jew who opens the store on Shabbat?”

“Rebbe,” he said, “how can I love him? He willingly disturbs the entire shul. He publicly disregards his faith and religion, desecrating the holy day of Shabbat; he carelessly spits in our faces each week. How can I love him?”

“Maybe it is the other way around? Perhaps he violates the Shabbat because you do not love him? How do you know it starts with his violating Shabbat and that results in your hate; maybe it is the opposite—because you dislike him he reciprocates and disturbs your Shabbat?”

The Rabbi was not expecting this. “So, what should I do?” “Start loving him,” said the Seret-Rebbe.
But what if I don’t? “So start now!”  “But how?”

“Sometimes you must begin with words. Next Shabbat, go into the store and tell him you love him.”

What?! He will think I am insane.

“That is fine. But the main thing is you need to be genuine. Every Shabbat, go into the store and tell him you love him.”

The following Shabbat morning, on his way to shul, the Rabbi entered the store. The owner looked at him, and said rudely, “Get out of my store. I will never close it.”

The Rabbi looked at him and said: “No, no. I just came here to tell you I love you and wish you ‘Shabbat Sholom’.”

“What? Do you love me? Why?”

“I love you because you are my brother; you are a Jew, and I am a Jew. We are both children of G-d. I know that you have a great and holy soul. Can I hug you?”

The store owner was, to put it mildly, shocked.

This went on for six months. Every single Shabbat the Rabbi went into the store, told the Jew how much he loved him, and gave him a warm embrace.

Six months later, the store was closed for Shabbat.

This Rabbi can have easily concluded that this Jew is a low life, and his loathing of him is surely justified. In his mind, it would have been self-righteous hate. He might have never entertained the idea that his hate was not the result, but the cause of the problem.

I wish every religious Jew in Israel would know this. What we can accomplish through truly loving other people is incredible.

So, the next time you want to change your wife, your child, your sibling, or your friend—try to look deep into yourself and find your love, wholesomeness, purity, and serenity. And they will reflect it right back at you.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky