Rabbi Neal's Weekly Commentary

Copyright 2010 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Vayishlach

“Said he, ‘Your name shall no longer be Yaakov, but Yisrael, for you have striven with beings divine and human, and have prevailed.’ “ (Bereshit/ Genesis 32:29)

“God said to him,’You whose name is Yaakov, You shall be called Yaakov no more,but Yisrael shall be your name.’ “ (35:10)

Good afternoon!

This week our ancestor Yaakov goes back home with many wives, children, servants and animals- a whole camp, which is divided in two before they meet up with Yaakov’s brother Esav, whom they fear has aggressive intent. Yaakov himself spends the night alone before this fateful meeting, and wrestles with the angel who changes his name from Yaakov- the deceiver- to Yisrael, the God-wrestler. (As Arthur Waskow puts it.) This name change is then confirmed in a theophany (revelation of the Presence) a few chapters later, as above.

The symbolism is clear: Yaakov, who deceived his brother and ran away, is finally mature enough to humble himself and confront the legacy of his actions; this inner change is marked by the outer change of his name. Yet the Torah continues to use both names – in fact, just a few verses later (35:14) the text says that it was “Yaakov” who set up the pillar to mark the spot where God changed his name!

So what’s the deal here? Is he Yaakov, or Yisrael? From a historical perspective, we might hypothesize that texts which use the different names reflect older traditions woven together- that’s called source criticism, related to the documentary hypothesis. On other hand, some traditional commentaries saw no contradiction, merely noting that “Yisrael” would be considered the primary name and “Yaakov” the secondary name from now on. (Cf. Torah Temimah on 35:10)

If the change of names is indeed symbolic of his growth and spiritual evolution, then we might even posit that it makes sense to carry both names as Yisrael/ Yaakov goes forward on his journey- because spiritual growth is not a linear process of sudden and permanent change. It’s two steps forward, one step back, and a life-long commitment to taking one’s personal inventory of strengths and weaknesses, passions and values, shortcomings and inner challenges. Yaakov can indeed become Yisrael- the God-wrestler- but he carries that part of him which is Yaakov, just as we all grow but carry our earlier selves along the way.

Perhaps the text is even hinting that Yisrael knows that part of himself is still Yaakov- and that this self-awareness is an outcome of his wrestling with conscience and memory. To me, this is a tremendously realistic and yet hopeful view of human nature: spiritual growth consists of knowing and accepting one’s flaws and yet refusing to be bound by them. Yaakov becomes Yisrael and is still Yaakov- not a paradox, but a reflection of the upward spiral of the journeying heart.

Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

Shalom and salutations to one and all. I hope everybody reading this has a measure of serenity as North America goes into the month-long frenzy known as December- as for me, it’s a month will little commercial radio but other than that life goes on in the world of weekly Torah commentaries.

A few weeks ago , we explored the connection between Avraham’s blessing and birkat hamazon, or the blessing after a meal. The key phrase for the portion Chayei Sarah was bakol, that just as Avraham was blessed “in everything,” so should we be blessed. Fast forward in the Torah to this week’s portion, Vayishlach, and once again, we find that our patriarch, in this case Yaakov, is blessed with kol:

“But Yaakov said, ‘No, I pray you; if you would do me this favor, accept from me this gift; for to see your face is like seeing the face of God, and you have received me favorably.  Please accept my present which has been brought to you, for God has favored me and I have plenty.’ ” (Bereshit/Genesis 33:10-11)

What JPS translates as “plenty” is our word kol, literally “all things” or “everything.” The context of the passage above is the reconciliation between Yaakov and his brother Esav; Yaakov, guilty of stealing his brother’s blessing from their father many years earlier, urges his brother to accept gifts of animals as a token of Yaakov’s humility and contrition. Esav is initially reluctant:

“Esav said, ‘I have enough, my brother; let what you have remain yours.’ ” (Ibid, verse 9)

Notice that Esav says he has “enough.” The actual word is rav, which means “a lot” or “plenty,” and in fact, our friend Rashi understands it this way, unlike the JPS translation above. Following Rashi, Esav’s demurral of Yaakov’s gifts is because he has “plenty,” which may be a boastful way of saying “I don’t need what you have to offer,” whereupon Yaakov urges him to accept, saying (again according to Rashi) “I have everything [that I need].” Yaakov, in this reading, knows he has “everything,” in the sense of the necessities, and therefore has enough to share in order to make amends to his brother.

Let’s return to our passage in birkat hamazon, the blessing after the meal:

“Just as God blessed our ancestors Avraham Yitzhak and Yaakov, ‘in all things,’ ‘by all things,’ with ‘all things,’ so may we all be blessed together with a complete blessing.”

Now we see that one way to understand Yaakov’s blessing of kol, or “all things,” is not so much about quantity but attitude. In Rashi’s reading, Esav may have had more wealth than Yaakov, but Yaakov felt that he had “everything” that he needed, and was thus able to part with riches in the service of his moral and spiritual goals. So in asking to be blessed like Yaakov, “with all things,” we’re not asking for more stuff, we’re asking for the capacity to know we have enough. We’re not asking for a material blessing, but for perspective on our material blessings- and that in itself is both priceless and sacred.

Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

P.S.- see the links in the previous drasha on this topic for comparison, and go to Hebcal for the text of the Torah portion and haftarah.

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Vayishlach

This week’s Torah portion is Vayishlach, concerning the reconciliation
but eventual parting of the brothers Ya’akov and Esav. The haftarah,
however, is a bit harder to pin down, because there are, as last week,
different traditions as to which text is read, and in fact, one of the
traditions is that Ashkenazim read this week what Sephardim read last
week, from Hosea.

However, we’re going to follow the Etz Hayim Torah commentary, which
follows the practice of reading the book of Ovadiah, in its entirety
(only 21 verses), as the haftarah for Vayishlach.

OK, now that we’re all together on what we’re learning, what’s in the
learning?

The book of Ovadiah (probably a pseudonym, since Ovadiah means
“servant of God.”) is mostly a prophecy against the nation of Edom,
one of Israel’s neighbors that apparently took advantage of Israel
being in conflict with another nation and either plundered Israel or
at the very least didn’t help. (Cf. verses 1`2-14.) The connection to
the Torah portion is that Edom is understood to be descended from
Esav, brother of our ancestor Ya’akov (AKA Yisrael) – thus linking the
conflict between the brothers to later conflict between Israel and its
neighbor.

The ancient rabbis saw this conflict continue, and identified Edom
with the Roman empire- and thus the book of Ovadiah, who prophesied
Edom’s downfall, was seen not as the past, but as the future, a future
in which the hated Roman domination would be ended and the military
empire overthrown. The cruelty of Edom/ Rome is brought out in a
poignant verse:

“If thieves were to come to you,
marauders by night,
They would steal no more than they needed.
If grape-gatherers came to you,
they would surely leave some gleanings.” (Ovadiah, verse 5)

The basic idea is that even thieves have some honor- they would not
take everything out of a home, but only what they could sell or use,
and even those who raided a vineyard would surely leave <something>
behind, not out of compassion, but because a thief has at least some
rational self-interest, and doesn’t wantonly destroy. Yet I also hear
in these verses a rage against arrogance- because Edom/ Rome has not
been humbled, never experienced a sense of communal violation or
shame, they have no compassion, no understanding of justice and fairness.

There is a real anger in the book of Ovadiah, a sense of outrage at
the perceived lack of basic humanity: “how could you gaze with glee on
your brother that day, on his day of calamity?” (Verse 12) The prophet
is no dispassionate philosopher, but one who is offended at injustice;
not a magician or seer, but a deeply engaged voice of moral clarity.
Seen this way, the prophecy against Edom is not so much about a
particular nation at a particular time, but a symbol of a recurring
theme of history: those who that believe might makes right, and who
crush others because they can, will not stand forever. To believe this
requires both faith and courage- faith to keep struggling for justice
in a world which is often cruel, and the courage to ask hard
questions. That’s a prophetic faith, one which sustained our people
through periods of darkness, and which is no less needed today.

Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Vayishlach

This week’s portion, Vayishlach, begins with the story of Yaakov
wrestling with a mysterious being the night before he meets up with
his estranged brother Esav; after he and Esav appear to reconcile,
they go their separate ways and Yaakov camps near Shechem.
Unfortunately, he must leave that area after his sons, led by Shimon
and Levi, take a terrible and bloody vengeance on the men of the town
in retribution for an apparent sexual assault upon their sister,
Dinah. In the view of the brothers, the prince of the town had treated
Dinah like a prostitute; in revenge, they deceived all the men of the
town, setting them up for death and despoilment. (Cf. Bereshit/Genesis 34)

The story of the “rape of Dinah” (as it is usually known) raises
complex issues of gender, justice and morality; for today, we will
note only that Shimon and Levi’s actions seem to violate a later Torah
prohibition against “taking revenge,” as expressed in
Vayikra/Leviticus 19:18: “You shall not take vengeance or bear a
grudge against your countrymen.”

A clear explanation of this mitzvah is found in Abraham Chill’s book
on the mitzvot (which I recommend), where he brings the classic
rabbinic explanation of the difference between “revenge” and “grudges:”

1) Revenge, or “nekamah,” is when John comes to Hillary and asks to
borrow a tool, and Hillary refuses. The next day, Hillary comes to
John and asks to borrow a different tool, and John says: “you didn’t
lend to me, I’m not going to lend to you.”

2) Bearing a grudge is remembering past slights, as when Rudy comes to
Mitt to borrow a tool, and Mitt says: “OK, I’m lending you the hammer,
even though yesterday you refused to lend me a wrench.”

Please note: the mitzvah of not taking revenge does not mean we should
permit injustice or not hold people accountable for genuine misdeeds.
It means that the accountability should be proportionate to the wrong,
and limited to the actual problem. To put it another way, I might
explain this mitzvah as the spiritual discipline of attempting to stay
emotionally “centered” even when one feels hurt, insulted or harmed in
some way, and to respond from a place of thoughtfulness, not lashing
out. The mitzvah does not preclude protecting ourselves, or speaking
out when we feel hurt- it means that even if we were hurt, the Torah
challenges us to carefully distinguish between justice and vengeance.

There’s nothing easy about this mitzvah- in fact, it might be one of
the hardest in the Torah. Furthermore, it’s easy to say that Shimon
and Levi’s response to Shechem was totally disproportionate to the
offense, but it’s harder to say just how they might have acted in a
way which held the prince accountable and deterred further violence
against their family. While Yaakov himself condemns what the brothers
did, he does so on practical grounds- that they will be considered
outlaws in the region.

Finally, one should note that the verse from Vayikra specifies that we
are not to take revenge against “bnai amecha,” literally, the
“children of your people.” Thus, some commentators have limited this
prohibition to a behavioral norm only within the Jewish community (see
Chill’s quotation from Kli Yakar, for example), but I reject that
view. The rest of the verse tells us to love “our fellow” [re'eacha]
as ourselves- and our fellow humans are all peoples.

The word “vengeance” evokes images of bloody blades like Shimon and
Levi’s, but the examples given above are much closer to ordinary life.
Who among us has never made a cutting and unnecessary remark, or taken
some small action for the purpose of confounding another? The mitzvah
of refraining from revenge is about cultivating an ethical
consciousness even during rage or pain- that is, precisely when it’s
hardest and most necessary. Not bearing a grudge is really about not
letting other people’s actions determine your own- it is the path of
becoming our best selves.

Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Vayishlach

Well, it’s a rare week in which a matter of Jewish law decided by a
committee of 25 Conservative rabbis gets major play on television
news, not to mention the New York Times and Time magazine. (Links
below.) In case you haven’t heard, the Committee on Jewish Law and
Standards ( a.k.a. the “Law Committee”), which is the central halachic
[Jewish law and practice] advisory body of the Conservative Movement,
this week accepted a scholarly paper [t'shuvah, or responsum] which
allows for (but does not mandate) the possibility of Conservative
rabbis and congregations adopting a more affirmative stance towards
same-sex relationships.

There is no doubt in my mind that there will be heated conversations
at rabbinic gatherings and in congregational boardrooms for many
months to come, but the one question I’m sure is on the minds of many
faithful readers of Rabbineal-list is : OK, there’s a big controversy,
but what does this have to do with this week’s Torah portion, Vayishlach?

Well, I’m glad you asked, because as my teacher Rabbi Artson taught
me, and I’ve taught to many in his name, one of the greatest things
about being Jewish is that whatever the issue at hand is, there is
something to be learned from the weekly Torah portion- it always works
that way! First, let’s catch up from last week: Our ancestor Yaakov is
on his way back to the land of Canaan after years away, and he is
bringing a large camp of women, children and animals with him. He
spends the night alone before meeting his estranged brother Esav, and
then, in a dramatic scene the next day, apparently reconciles with
him. Yaakov presents Esav with many animals as a gift, and humbles
himself before the older brother he has not seen in many years. At
first, Esav refuses to accept these gifts, saying he “has enough,” but
Yaakov persists:

“But Yaakov said, ‘No, I pray you; if you would do me this favor,
accept from me this gift; for to see your face is like seeing the face
of God, and you have received me favorably.’ ” (Bereshit/Genesis 33:10)

Commentators disagree about Yaakov’s meaning here- did he mean that he
is humbled before Esav as one would be before God, or did he mean to
imply obliquely that he, Yaakov, has seen the face of God in a vision
(thus suggesting he is under Divine protection) which might cause Esav
to think twice about any plan of revenge? A simpler explanation is
that Yaakov is saying that just as one does not enter a sacred space
to meet God empty-handed, he does not wish to meet his brother
empty-handed.

All of these are plausible readings, but our Conservative Etz Hayim
commentary suggests another way to understand Yaakov’s reference to
“seeing the the face of God.” Etz Hayim suggests that Yaakov is not
trying to tell his brother to back off, but rather informing his Esav
that because he, Yaakov, has seen the face of God, he is no longer the
same Yaakov who stole Esav’s blessing so many years, but one who has
learned that even his estranged brother is made in the Image of God
and is thus worthy of respect and the opportunity for reconciliation.

It’s important to note that the Torah portrays Yaakov and Esav as
struggling with each other even in the womb- they are almost
paradigmatic rivals. While it’s certainly possible that Yaakov was
merely trying to flatter Esav by saying “to see your face is like
seeing the face of God,” I feel a real humility in Yaakov’s words, a
sense that the long struggle has reached a turning point. Even though
Yaakov and Esav do not ultimately live together, they do achieve a
certain detente- which is a great improvement over plans to deceive or
kill one another!

Returning to the news of the day, I see the Conservative movement
turning from a place of struggle between competing factions (liberal
vs. conservative, progressive vs. traditional, etc.) to a new phase in
our journey together. The challenge now is to see, as Yaakov did, the
face of God even in those from whom we are estranged. There are those
in our organizations and synagogues who are outraged that the Law
Committee endorsed a perspective they understand as contrary to Torah,
and there are those who are furious that the Committee didn’t go far
enough in enacting policies of inclusion and progressive change.

Not only that, but as gay men and women become more visible in our
communities, some will struggle to see the face of God in them- may
they be blessed to do so. On the other hand, those of us who see this
week’s decision as a long-awaited step in the right direction must be
reminded that those who disagree are also our brothers and sisters,
equally passionate about Jewish ethics, community, and values, equally
endowed with the Divine Image.

“To see your face is like seeing the face of God”- to know the sacred
humanity of others is to be unable to hate, and may be even the first
step along the journey towards loving one’s neighbor as oneself- which
is, after all, one of the great principles of the Torah, no matter the
issue that may temporarily divide us.

Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

PS- before we get to our usual Torah portion links, here’s a
smattering of news and opinion on this week’s Law Committee decision.
The first link is to the Jewish Telegraphic Agency, which has a
special section of news and op-eds in the top right corner:

http://jta.org/

The Jewish Forward:

http://www.forward.com/articles/conservative-panel-votes-to-permit-gay-rabbis/

New York Times:

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/12/07/us/07jews.html?em&ex=1165640400&en=ff825115d4e\
83c4a&ei=5087%0A

Time Magazine:

http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1567109,00.html

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Vayishlach

Oh my goodness, there are only ten more shopping days till Hanukkah!

Well, that’s too stressful to think about, so let’s study Torah instead. This
week’s parsha,
Vayishlach, is the story of Yaakov’s return to Caanan/Israel after 20 years with
his uncle
Lavan in Haran. Upon returning to the Land of Israel, Yaakov sends messengers
ahead to
his brother Esav, with gifts and messages of reconciliation. Still, he fears his
brother will
attack him, so he divides his camp for protection. He stays alone on the night
before
meeting his brother, and has a mystical wrestling which results in a name
change: Yaakov,
the deceiver, is now Yisrael, the “God-wrestler.”

Yaakov and Esav do meet, but part ways. Yaakov travels to Shechem, where his
daughter
Dinah is raped by the local prince; Shimon and Levi, her brothers, wreak a
terrible
vengeance on the town. Rakhel, Yaakov’s beloved wife, and the mother of Yosef,
dies in
childbirth, and is buried near Bethlehem. The parsha concludes with a detailed
genealogy
of Esav’s family.

At the beginning of the parsha, when Yaakov is heading into the land of
Caanan/Israel
with a large troop of family, servants, and animals, he sends messengers ahead
to his
brother, hoping to soften the grudge of the deception that happened twenty years
ago.
The messengers return with the report that Esav is heading towards him with four
hundred
men, and Yaakov thinks his plea didn’t work. What’s interesting here is that
Rashi insists
on reading this part of the story in a way that makes things a bit mystical,
when the words
are very clear, and don’t seem to cry out for a creative interpretation.

The word at issue is “malach,” which can mean “messenger,” or “angel,” but
that’s really
the same meaning, since in classic Jewish sources, an “angel” is a messenger or
message-
bearing manifestation from God. The first verse of the parsha says simply:
“Yaakov sent
messengers [malachim] ahead of him to his brother Esav. . . ” (Bereshit/ Genesis
32:4)
Well, as I said, that’s not complicated- if you want to send someone a message,
you send
a messenger, at least in the days before email and fax.

Rashi insists that these “malachim” are “actual angels.” Many of the classic
Torah
commentators don’t agree with him, but perhaps there’s a way to understand
Rashi’s
comment while preserving the plain meaning of the words. I believe (not all
commentators
do) that Yaakov was truly trying to reconcile with his brother Esav- the brother
whom he
had cheated and deceived so many years earlier. I think that Yaakov had grown
and
matured, and wanted to do t’shuvah, repentance, by fixing the relationship with
his
brother that he himself had broken.

Perhaps he thought that Esav would not believe that Yaakov wanted to make peace,
and
thus he (Esav) needed some time to think about it, or perhaps he wanted to go
out of his
way to show Esav that he meant these overtures- but in either case, the
messengers that
Yaakov sent were on a mission of peacemaking between brothers. They were sent
ahead
so that the sacred purposes of reconciliation and forgiveness might be better
achieved. In
other words, perhaps what made the messengers into “angels” was not the
metaphysics of
their existence, but the holiness of their mission. Yaakov sent the messengers,
but they
were agents of Divine Purpose- just as any of us would be if we were trying our
best to
help somebody fix broken brotherhood and reconcile with alienated friends or
family.

The angels that Yaakov sent might have been men, but their task was from God,
Who
desires that we live in peace. Seen this way, Rashi’s comment speaks a
spiritual truth:
when we carry forth to do the work of peacemaking, we become angels, bearers of
sacred
truth and a Divine task, “messengers of God” in human form.

Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

PS- here’s the link to the text of the parsha and additional commentary:

http://www.jtsa.edu/community/parashah/index.shtml

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Vayishlach

In the Torah portion Vayishlach, Ya’akov prepares to meet his estranged
brother Esav; he divides his camp and ends up all alone in the night, during
which he wrestles with the angel who changes his name to Yisrael. Ya’akov
and Esav meet, and seem to reconcile after their long time apart, but
eventually go their separate ways. Ya’akov and his large family end up in
Shechem, where the prince of the city takes Ya’akov’s daughter Dinah and
rapes her. This provokes a violent response from her brothers Shimon and
Levi, who kill many of the town’s inhabitants in an act of premeditated
deception and revenge.

Yet although Dinah’s brothers claim to act in defense of their sister and her
honor, her father, Ya’akov, is not altogether pleased by Shimon and Levi’s
capacity for warfare. After the killing is finished, Ya’akov confronts his sons
with the claim that their violence has brought him trouble and danger:

“Thereupon, Jacob said to Shimon and to Levi, ‘You have troubled me, to
discredit me among the inhabitants of the land, among the Canaanites and
among the Perizzites, and I am few in number, and they will gather against
me, and I and my household will be destroyed.’

And they said, ‘Shall he make our sister like a harlot?’ “
(Genesis 34:30-31)

Rashi, the preeminent explainer of nuances in the Torah, says that the word
translated here as “troubled” has a meaning similar to that of murky water,
implying that Ya’akov is not just anxious, he’s confused and agitated by his
son’s warlike actions, and the probable consequences. Rashi quotes an
earlier midrash which goes even further, in which Ya’akov claims that he and
his family could have found a way to live in peace with the neighboring tribes-
presumably, even after the rape of Dinah- but Shimon and Levi have now
closed off that possibility, since (the midrash leads us to conclude) their act
of
vengeance will itself lead to the desire for revenge, continuing a “cycle of
violence,” as we now call it.

Rashi’s explication of Ya’akov’s “troubles”- that he has a “murky” or confused
mind- speaks to the essential paradox of violent responses: violence,
especially when it arises out of a desire to achieve revenge or reclaim honor-
tends to beget further violence.

Shimon and Levi ask a rhetorical question: “should our sister be treated like a
harlot?” Well, no, of course not, but their question is hardly a thoughtful
response to Ya’akov’s anguished fretting over the future, a future in which his
family is implicated in terrible acts. Please note: neither the Torah, nor
Judaism as a whole, advocates pacifism; in a typical Jewish view, sometimes
violence is necessary, so that justice can be served, or security achieved. Yet
saying violence is sometimes necessary begs a larger discussion about when
it is not necessary, let alone moral or wise.

This larger discussion- about the imperative of seeking nonviolent solutions
whenever possible, about the necessity of distinguishing between justice and
vengeance, about the wisdom of setting in motion a deadly cycle which may
take generations to conclude, about the humanity of those perceived as foes-
is hard work, with few easy answers. Note that Shimon and Levi, in asking
their simple question, hardly seem “murky” about the answer- but Ya’akov,
who has greater responsibilities, is quite properly troubled when violence is
the first resort, rather than the last. Ya’akov’s “murkiness” thus stands as a
rebuke to those in our society who claim to revere Biblical texts, yet seem
untroubled when lives are at stake.

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Vayishlach

This d’var Torah was originally distributed by Kolel: The Adult Center for Jewish Learning during the year 5761 and can be found in its archives.

VaYishlach (Gen. 32:4-36:43)

OVERVIEW

At the beginning of this week’s parsha, Yaakov sends messengers ahead to his estranged brother Esav, who has a large assembly of men coming toward Yaakov and his family. The night before he meets his brother, Yaakov wrestles with the angel who changes his name to Yisrael. The meeting with Esav goes peacefully. When Yaakov and his family arrive at the town of Shechem, his daughter Dinah is sexually assaulted by the prince of the town, and Yaakov’s sons go on a violent rampage in retribution. Both Rahel and Yitzhak die and are buried. The parsha ends with a review of all Yitzhak’s descendants.

IN FOCUS

“Then he said, ‘Let me go, for the dawn is breaking.’ He [Yaakov] replied: ‘I will not let you go unless you bless me.’ He said to him, ‘What is your name?’ He answered, ‘Yaakov.’ He said ‘No longer will your name be Yaakov, but Israel, because you have fought with God and with men and have prevailed.’ ” (Genesis 32:26-28)

PSHAT

All alone the night before he is to finally meet up again with his estranged brother Esav, Yaakov is approached by a mysterious stranger, who wrestles with him until the dawn. The text says this figure is a “man,” but most of the commentators assume it was some kind of angel or a holy vision. Yaakov holds on until he can reach some understanding of the moment; at the end of the struggle, the mystery wrestler announces that Yaakov, like his grandfather Avraham, will receive a new name.

DRASH

There have been many, many interpretations of Yaakov’s “God-wrestling.” (A term coined by Arthur Waskow, I believe.) Some commentators, as noted above, understand this as an encounter with an angel, and some, especially Rambam, understand Yaakov as experiencing some kind of holy vision, rather than an actual wrestling match. While most of the commentators focus on the homiletical meaning of Yaakov’s change of name, they tend to gloss over the passage before it, presumably assuming that it’s just a rhetorical setup for the announcing of the name Yisrael. By asking Yaakov’s name, and getting the reply “Yaakov,” the messenger can more dramatically announce the new name by which Yaakov will be known.

Along these lines, Radak [R. David Kimchi, a 12th century French commentator] seems to explain the angel’s question as just a formality:

This question is an opening to the conversation, like “Where are you?” (Genesis 3:9) and “What is that in your hand?” (Exodus 4:2), and other similar places, because he knew his name when he was sent to him.

The first example Radak offers of a rhetorical question is from story of the Garden of Eden. After the man and woman eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge, they become self-conscious of their nakedness, and attempt to hide from God in the Garden. God asks- knowing full well the answer!- “where are you?”

Radak’s second example comes from Moshe’s experience at the burning bush. When Moshe doubts that the people will believe that God has sent him, God turns Moshe’s staff into a snake, prefacing the miracle with the question “what is in your hand.” Again, both Moshe and God knew exactly what was in Moshe’s hand, just as the wrestler knew Yaakov’s name.

What’s going on here? We might say that God was just striking up a good conversation, but Torah stories of encounters with the Divine tend to be terse and focussed. In each of the three stories Radak offers as an example of a rhetorical question, the main character is about to begin a new chapter in life – Adam is about to leave the Garden, Yaakov is about to meet his long-estranged brother, and Moshe is about to confront Pharoah.

Perhaps the question is not merely a conversation-opener, but the main point of the conversation. In the case of Yaakov, the messenger seems to want Yaakov to think deeply about the meaning of his name, which we learned at his birth would represent the depth of his troubled relationship with his brother. (Cf. Genesis 25:25-27 and 27:35-37.) The messenger knows not just Yaakov’s name, but his history- he’s asking if Yaakov has wrestled sufficiently with his own identity. “What is your name?,” in this context, can be understood as “are you still Yaakov, the deceiver, or are you ready to become Yisrael, the person of conscience? ”

What’s so striking about our passage is that Yaakov receives a question in response to his demand for a blessing- it seems to me that the question itself is the blessing he receives. The right question, at the right time, from the right person, can change a person’s life, enabling them to see and understand themselves in an entirely new light. When God asks a question, it’s not for the sake of an answer, but for the sake of an inner response, a change in the person.

Who am I? What is the name I have made for myself, and what is the name I am capable of achieving? Just to ask the question can move us towards a better answer- just to ask the question, and thus demonstrate our capacity for growth and introspection, is one of the greatest blessings we have as human beings.

(A d’var Torah by R. Eddie Feinstein helped me prepare this week’s parsha study.)

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Torah Portion: Vayishlach

This d’var Torah was originally distributed by Kolel: The Adult Center for Jewish Learning during the year 5760 and can be found in its archives.

OVERVIEW
At the end of the previous parasha, Yaakov, Leah, and Rahel, and their household are leaving Lavan, (Rahel and Leah’s father) and heading back to the land of Israel. At the beginning of this week’s parasha, Yaakov must finally confront the brother he deceived and left behind so many years ago. Yaakov sends messengers ahead to Esav, and finds out that his brother has a large assembly of men coming towards him. The night before he meets his brother, he wrestles with the angel who changes his name to Yisrael. The meeting with Esav goes peacefully, but trouble is just around the corner: when Yaakov and his family arrive at the town of Shechem, his daughter Dinah is sexually assaulted by the prince of the town, and Yaakov’s sons go on a violent rampage in retribution. Benjamin is born, but Rahel dies in childbirth. Yitzhak dies, and his two sons come together to bury him. The parasha ends with a review of all Yitzhak’s descendants.

IN FOCUS
“Esav said: “I have lots [of possessions, wealth], my brother. Let what is yours remain yours.” But Yaakov replied: ” No, please! If I have found favor in your eyes, accept my gift, for in seeing your face, it is like I have seen a Godly face- let this be your will. Please, take this blessing, that I have brought to you, for God has been gracious, and I have everything.” He urged him, and he accepted. (Genesis 33:9-11)

PSHAT
The contemporary Jewish theologian Arthur Green once remarked that the entire book of Genesis attempts to answer the question: “how can I live with my sibling?” From Cayin and Hevel right through to Yosef and his brothers, the families of Genesis are filled with tension and estrangement. At this point in the book, however, things seem to change- with Yaakov and Esav, we see that reconciliation and forgiveness are possible. Yaakov has spent the night alone, literally wrestling with his choices, and now seems to be making a genuine effort to demonstrate his remorse over his behavior towards his brother so many years ago. They exchange gifts and talk about their families- but even after this apparent reconciliation, they part and go in separate ways, not to see each other again till their father’s death.

DRASH
The ancient rabbis had a somewhat different view of Yaakov and Esav than a simple reading of the text might suggest; for them, Yaakov was a pure and righteous soul, and Esav was emblematic of violence, revenge, and unworthiness. They identify Esav with the nation of Edom, which became a kind of symbol for Rome, one of the great villains of ancient Jewish history. It’s easy to understand where this line of thinking came from- after all, given that the very name of the Jewish people- Yisrael- comes from Yaakov/Yisrael, the rabbis must have felt some pressure to justify Yaakov’s actions and find ways to suggest Esav deserved what he got. According to this line of interpretation, in the verses above, Yaakov is essentially trying to appease his brother with gifts and bribes, still fearful of Esav’s rough personality.

Personally, I think the traditional rabbis were a little hard on Esav, and let Yaakov off the hook too easily, but as the saying goes, there are 70 faces to the Torah. Picking up on this theme of Yaakov/good vs. Esav/ bad, the Chafetz Chaim, (R. Yisrael Meir HaCohen, late 19th century leader of Eastern European Orthodoxy, most famous for his book of laws on the ethics of speech) points out the difference between the way the two brothers report their family success. Esav says, in verse 9 above, “I have lots”- rav- meaning, I have plenty of possessions and wealth. Yaakov, on the other hand, says: “I have everything”- kol - apparently meaning “I have everything I need.”

According to the Chafetz Chaim, this demonstrates two different approaches to living. The first, represented by Esav, always compares what one has to what others have; after all, “lots of stuff” begs the question: lots compared to what? The second way of being in the world, represented by Yaakov, is much more easily satisfied: “I have everything I need.” As the ancient teacher Ben Zoma teaches in Pirke Avot (4:1): “Who is rich? The one who is happy with their portion.” Ralph Waldo Emerson said essentially the same thing when he quipped: “Richest is he whose pleasures are cheapest.”

The Chafetz Chaim himself was famous for his simple living and reverent practice of gratitude. As I mentioned, one of his greatest contributions to Jewish life was his lifelong effort to practice and preach the highest levels of ethics in speech; he tried never to speak badly of another person or listen when other people were gossiping. There is a story (quoted in Itturei Torah, or Torah Gems in English) that when the Chafetz Chaim was old and hard of hearing, his students tried to get him to have an operation that would improve his hearing. But he wouldn’t do it, saying that God has given him a great gift by taking away his ability to hear all the slander and gossip that people were speaking. Now that’s an example of being happy with one’s lot in life!

Returning to our verses, we might note that Yaakov expressly attributes everything he has to God’s graciousness; in this interpretation, it seems like he appreciates from whence his blessings came, whereas one could imagine a more materialistic person only focussing on what he or she lacks. As the Chafetz Chaim points out, those with a dollar want a hundred dollars, and those with a hundred dollars want a thousand, and so on, and so on- unless one can regard one’s wealth as a blessing, as Yaakov did (in this interpretation), and freely give it away when circumstances call for generosity.

I’ll leave it to you to decide if the rabbis went too far in their portrayal of the contrasting personalities of Yaakov and Esav. Still, the verses do seem to point out a difference worth thinking about: do we always compare our blessings to others, or do we practice gratitude for what we have? That’s not to say we shouldn’t strive to better ourselves or our situation in life, but that we should do so for the right reasons, and with a grateful heart. Being happy with one’s portion doesn’t mean that we should passively accept any injustice- it means that our happiness is more dependent on our relationship with the Holy One than on the value of our possessions or other external circumstances. Take a look around- you might just have “everything,” and not even realize it.