WHY WAS ABRAHAM AFRAID? The question is obvious: Of what was Abraham afraid? He had just been victorious in battle. He had no cause for fear. On this, the Midrash comments: Another reason for Abram’s fear after killing the kings in battle was his sudden realization: “Perhaps I violated the Divine commandment that the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded the children of Noah, ‘He who sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed.’ Yet how many people I killed in battle.” (Tanchuma Buber, Lech Lecha 19) Another Midrash puts it slightly differently and more precisely: Abraham was filled with misgiving, thinking to himself, Maybe there was a righteous or God-fearing man among those troops which I slew. (Bereishit Rabbah, 44:4) What is going on in these sources? For this we need to borrow a concept from philosophy, namely, the idea of a moral dilemma. This phrase is often used imprecisely, to mean a moral problem, a difficult ethical decision. In fact, it means something more specific. Moral problems are often of the form: What is the right thing to do in the circumstances? A moral dilemma is different. It arises in cases of conflict between right and right, or between wrong and wrong — where, whatever we do, we are doing something that in other circumstances we ought not to do. The Talmud Yerushalmi (Terumot 8) describes one such case, where a fugitive from the Romans, Ulla bar Koshev, takes refuge in the town of Lod. The Romans surround the town, saying: Hand over the fugitive or we will kill you all. Rabbi Joshua ben Levi persuades the fugitive to give himself up. This is a complex case, much discussed in Jewish law, but it is one in which both alterna- tives are tragic. Rabbi Joshua ben Levi acts in accordance with Jewish law, but the Prophet Elijah asks him: “Is this the way of the pious?” [Ve-zu mishnat ha-chassidim?] Jean-Paul Sartre, speaking of existential decisions, gave the example of a Frenchman during the war who has an elderly and ailing mother with no one else to look after her. Should he stay with her, or should he join the resistance? Life presents us with many such decisions. They are particularly com- mon among those in public life, who are sometimes faced with courses of action that are in the long-term public good, but with which they may feel profoundly uneasy as pri- vate individuals. There are no easy answers in such cases. If there were, they would not be dilemmas. It is one of the tests of a moral code that it does not present moral choices as easier than they are. There are moral dilemmas. They are a fact of the moral life. There are times when a good human being, even if he or she does the right thing, will still experience (not remorse but) regret. We will still suffer pangs of conscience even though we know we are justified in what we do. One of the most profound examples of this is the remarkable book The Seventh Day that emerged from discussions among Israelis after the Six Day War. Although they had achieved one of the most stunning military victories in history, the prevailing tone is one of distress that they had been forced to kill in order to defend their country and people. Never, I suspect, has a less militaristic work emerged from a victorious army. That mood was born thousands of years earlier, when Jacob, father of the Jewish people, experienced not only the physical fear of defeat but the moral distress of victory. Only those who are capable of feeling both can defend their bodies without endangering their souls. DECEMBER 12 • 2024 | 45 Finding Life’s Blessings O n Oct. 7, 2023, 25-year-old Barak Nixon witnessed the horrors of the Nova Festival massacre. He and two friends ran, dodged bullets and hid in a bathroom stall near the festival site. When they were finally rescued by IDF soldiers, they were told, “You are the last three survivors in this area.” In the aftermath, Barak felt utterly broken; and his closest family members couldn’t look him in the eye because the pain was too intense. However, with the guidance of a rabbi from Afula, Barak made a choice: He would grow; he would share and, alongside his agony, express gratitude to G-d for being saved. Not long after, Barak shared his story at a synagogue in Rishon L’Tzion. Among those present was a young woman, Li-Odel, whom he met afterward. A little while later, Barak and Li-Odel married. Today, they are building a home and family together, rooted in faith, resilience and love. The Torah portion of Vayishlach includes one of the most iconic scenes in Genesis — the all-night battle between Jacob and the mysterious “Ish” who attacked him. At the end of the struggle, Jacob is victorious; his opponent was no ordinary person, but a celestial being. As the angel is about to leave, Jacob asks for his blessing. The angel grants it and changes Jacob’s name to Israel, saying, “You have struggled with [an angel of] God and with men, and you have prevailed.” A unique message is found in Jacob’s request to his opponent after the battle: “Bless me.” It is strange to ask an enemy for a blessing, but this message is profound. Jacob had just endured a painful struggle. As he was ready to move forward, he asked to be blessed, seeking the blessing behind the struggle. In life, we face challenges — some easier, some harder. Some we will overcome triumphantly, and others may cause lifelong pain. In each, we must challenge ourselves to find a blessing — something that makes us better, stronger, more sensitive to others and more aware of G-d. Three weeks ago, Rabbi Zvi Kogan, a colleague and Chabad emissary to the UAE, was murdered simply for being Jewish. In the Chabad world, there is deep pain and brokenness. Yet, alongside that pain, there is a commitment to continue Zvi’s holy work and to add more light of Torah and mitzvot in his memory. It won’t erase the pain, but it will be the blessing that emerges from this struggle. Rabbi Shneur Silberberg is the outreach director of Bais Chabad Torah Center in West Bloomfield. TORAH PORTION Rabbi Shneur Silberberg Parshat Vayishlach: Genesis 32:4-36:43; Obadiah 1:1-21.