Va'yishlach: Wrestling with Ourselves

Parashat Va’Yishlach 5769 – December 13, 2008

Wrestling with Ourselves

Some of the most valuable learning in life happens when we allow ourselves to confront adversity, experience new situations, and search deep within ourselves.

I’ve been doing a lot of learning lately. This week started out for me with a very important educational experience: on Monday, Rabbi Dollin took me up to the mountains and I had my first snowboarding lesson. I learned how to balance on the board, I learned how to control the board by shifting my weight, and I started making some basic turns. I also fell down a lot. Despite all the protection I was wearing, I took some pretty hard knocks. I also became acquainted with all the muscles I didn’t know I had. By the end of the day, I was completely wiped out. In other words, I loved it!

The reason I’m telling you about snowboarding is not to prove to you that I’m as cool as Rabbi Dollin… though the image of snowboarding rabbis is pretty cool. I want to tell how important this experience is to me because I’ve never done anything like it in my life. Even though I grew up in California, I never surfed or skateboarded. You see, I was a scrawny little boy with asthma and allergies. I wasn’t tall or athletic, I couldn’t jump very high, and I couldn’t run very fast or for very long. I was also very cautious and I avoided getting hurt. The other boys on the playground had names for me – labels that hurt and stuck with me for a long time. The problem was that I believed the names they called me, and I carried with me that image of myself.

Last week I spoke about our forefather Yaakov’s journey of transformation and why I find Yaakov to be so compelling. Yaakov starts out his life with a label too. His name, Yaakov, means the heel. He is born grasping at the heel of Esav, foreshadowing the first part of his life in which he does everything he can to supplant his older brother. He and his brother are also captive to their labels. Esav is described as the rugged outdoorsman, while Yaakov is a gentle homebody. Yaakov faces the challenge of having been born a few seconds after his brother. But instead of confronting the challenge with honesty and integrity, Yaakov takes advantage of his brother’s hunger to extract the birthright for himself and he takes advantage of his father’s blindness to steel the blessing of the first-born.

In this week’s Torah portion, va-yishlach, we find Yaakov hasn’t changed a whole lot yet. After 21 years hiding from Esav, Yaakov decides it is time to go home. Fearing the possibility that Esav is still angry with him, Yaakov falls back on old habits. Instead of direct confrontation, he uses the tactics of his youth: he sends droves of messengers bearing lavish gifts to Esav, he splits up his large clan into columns, and he separates himself from the rest of the group. All alone, during the night before his reunion with Esav, he is confronted by a mysterious figure. Yaakov and this strange being wrestle all through the night. Who is Yaakov fighting? The text is vague, though most traditional commentators understand that this is either an angel from God or perhaps Esav’s own guardian spirit. I prefer the explanation given by the 19^th century Hassidic master known as the S’fat Emet. Yaakov is finally confronting himself, wrestling with his own conscience; flexing moral muscles he didn’t know he had. This time he cannot overcome his conscience. His adversary is too strong now – or perhaps Yaakov is weary from years on the run. The mysterious fighter wrenches Yaakov’s hip at the socket. Despite the pain, however, Yaakov does not give up. Instead of retreating or relying on one of his old tricks, Yaakov prevails by holding on and continuing to grapple. We can change if we are willing to confront ourselves honestly. Despite being physically wounded and morally depleted, Yaakov will not let go. Gen. 32:27 says: “[Yaakov] responded, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.”

What blessing did Yaakov receive? The adversary responds, “What is your name?” He replied, “My name is Yaakov.” The other then says, “Your name shall no longer be Yaakov, bur Yisrael – for you have struggled with God and with men, and you have prevailed.” I want to propose to you that the blessing Yaakov got was not the new moniker. The blessing was the question, “what is your name?” In that moment, Yaakov was forced to consider who he had been for all these years. The blessing of the question is the blessing of introspection. He’s asking, “who are you? What are your limitations? What are your growing edges? Can you be honest with yourself? And Yaakov responds, “I’m Yaakov… I’m the heel… the trickster… this is who I am” But the angel’s response says, “you don’t have to be the heel your whole life. You can be the one who struggles with his conscience.”

Interestingly, Yaakov never becomes a saintly figure. In fact, he doesn’t lose the name Yaakov. He is referred from then on in the Torah by both names – Yaakov and Yisrael. As it is for most of us, the real hard changes in life are a continual struggle. But something fundamental has changed in Yaakov. He has learned how to confront his own conscience. The next morning when he encounters Esav, he demonstrates a new-found humility. He bows low before Esav and shows genuine remorse. The two brothers embraced and wept together.

It’s often difficult to change because we internalize the image we have of ourselves as the way we are. And, we believe that it is the way we always will be. It is often for lack of imagination that we fail to see the possibility of a different future. The perenial question is “do people change? Or, do we have fundamental characteristics that make change nearly impossible? Do we believe in the possibility of repair and transformation? Or, do we resign ourselves to accepting our shortcomings and flaws? Judaism’s answer is that, despite how difficult it can be, we are dynamic beings. We are created in the divine image, which means we have something transcendent in us to which we can (and must) strive. Our relationship to God implies a responsibility to improve. Some of the most valuable learning in life happens when we allow ourselves to confront adversity, experience new situations, and search deep within ourselves.

Shabbat Shalom