Shabbat Vayishlach
Run or stand?
Yaakov, Jacob, had run away from his brother Esav, who had threatened to kill him. He had spent years with Lavan, his uncle, and was now returning home with his wives, his children, his flocks and herds. He sent messengers ahead to tell his brother he was coming in peace and was not asking for anything (regardless of the promises of Isaac, their father). The messengers came back and told Yaakov that Esav was riding towards him with 400 men. It did not sound like a welcoming party.
That night, he takes his herds and family across to the West of the ford over the river of Yabok. But then he goes back to the east bank. The Midrash says it was to make sure nothing was left behind, pots and utensils. And from this we learn that a good person does not waste material objects, even if they seem relatively unimportant to most people. But there he meets a man (or angel) who engages him in a fight. They struggle till dawn. The antagonist fouls and knees Jacob in the thigh. Not, you might think, what an angel of God would do. Then this unknown person asks to be let go. Yaakov refuses to let him go until he blesses him, which sounds stranger still if this angel had behaved like a bad sport. Why would Yaakov want a blessing? Yaakov then asks his opponent his nam,e and the aggressor blesses him by giving Yaakov a new name, Yisrael. And explains that this signifies “someone destined to struggle with man and God and survive”. Which is reminiscent of God changing Avram’s name to Avraham and Sarai to Sarah. Both using the letter of God’s short name Hey. And adding El to Yaakov’s name.
And that is our name, Israel, to this day, and our fate too. We struggle with other human beings. When we see so much hatred towards Jews and Israel our gut reaction is to want to run, to disappear, to take refuge, to give up. But our history tells us we must stand and fight. Yaakov is admitting his fear and insecurity. His natural reaction is to flee to save his own life. But this experience of having to stand and fight is giving him the confidence to return to what could be a mortal struggle.
Maimonides says we should not take this narrative literally. This event was all a dream, albeit a momentous one, which defined Yaakov. And it was in this sort of nightmare that Yaakov actually twisted his leg and started limping. And his limping was self-inflicted, psychosomatic. He was avoiding, running away. That was why he was left alone on the east bank.
In Freudian terms, Yaakov was indeed thinking of fleeing. The angel, the dream, forced him to face up to the challenge and, for the first time, stand up to his enemies. Esav and Lavan. Instead of Yaakov meaning ‘Heel’ or ‘Laughingstock’ he is now Yisrael, “Someone who can struggle with man and God and survive,” He is stronger for it. But still he limps. The struggle has taken it out of him. The limp will always remind him of how close he came to giving up. But it also illustrates how inner struggles have a profound, detrimental impact on our bodies.
But the text talks about struggling with God too. The religious battle is every bit as important as the physical one. We need to engage, to challenge, to question, to struggle towards understanding God and what happens to us in life. It is not easy. Our religion, our destiny, requires us to fight. We must not give up and run away.
In the end, Yaakov/Yisrael prepared for two possibilities: to fight or to negotiate with his brother. Obviously, he preferred negotiation, and in the end peace talks prevailed both with Lavan and Esav. He and Esav came to an understanding. I hope this happens in our day, too. We must try to find a peaceful settlement. But if we can’t, we have no option but to stand our ground.
Rabbi Jeremy Rosen lives in New York. He was born in Manchester. His writings are concerned with religion, culture, history and current affairs – anything he finds interesting or relevant. They are designed to entertain and to stimulate. Disagreement is always welcome.
