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Vayishlach

Genesis 32:4-36:43

Hosea 11:7-12:12

The book of Genesis has much narrative and few commandments. Perhaps only once does the narrator interrupt the story to connect our practice with an event in the life of a patriarch: After a long night of wrestling with a mysterious stranger, Jacob sustains an injury that leaves him limping, "and for this reason the children of Israel do not eat the displaced sinew which is on the hip-socket to this very day" (Gen. 32:33).

Even today, anyone who prepares kosher hindquarters must employ an expert butcher to remove the forbidden sinew, or else treat hindquarters as non-kosher.

Of all the incidents in the lives of the patriarchs, why does this deserve commemoration? Surely a careful reader of the Bible could find a dozen events that seem as likely candidates for a memorial practice. This story must have extraordinary ongoing significance.

Furthermore, the Bible identifies this as the totem story of our people. The stranger announces Jacob's new name, Israel, "for you have struggled with the Divine and with man, and overcome" (Gen. 33:29). Our name, "the house of Israel," "the children of Israel," "the country of Israel," "the state of Israel," refers to this incident. This story must convey meaning about our very nature.

But what? What does the encounter with the mysterious stranger mean?

Consider Jacob's situation on that night, as he prepares to encounter his brother Esau, apparently for the first time in 20 years. Years ago, Jacob had defeated Esau at least twice; Esau had defeated Jacob at least once. Jacob had once defeated his twin brother, purchasing the birthright for some food. He had again defeated Esau, using a stratagem devised by their mother to get Jacob the blessing which their father intended to give Esau. After that, Esau had his partial victory: Threatening to kill Jacob, he succeeded in driving him out of their native country.

In his 20 years away, Jacob has not improved his relationship with Esau. Now, returning to Canaan, Jacob must meet Esau. Jacob sends messengers, who bring back the grim report that Esau is coming, accompanied by 400 men. It looks like Esau plans another victory.

Jacob prepares diligently. He sends extensive gifts. He prays. He divides his camp so that at least some may survive the expected attack. After all his preparations, he remains alone, worried, tense. And as he remains alone, a mysterious stranger wrestles with him.

Some of the ancient rabbis understand this stranger as "the spirit of Esau." In this lonely night, Jacob confronts the idea of dealing with Esau. This time he cannot bargain, or deceive, or run away; this time, he does not plan to win by trickery. As he looks back over his past dealings with Esau, Jacob faces the painful realization of his own imperfections.

Looking honestly at oneself sometimes leaves one wounded, limping. The next day, Jacob brings his entire family with him, despite the danger, and greets Esau as his respected elder brother. The actual meeting with Esau turns out peaceful, almost anticlimactic.

What lesson did Jacob learn in that night of wrestling, which we must learn again and again throughout history? The anonymous author of the Sefer HaHinnukh suggests this: That we can rely on divine protection; though we may suffer wounds, as Jacob did, we will survive.

A further possibility: We do not need to defeat every adversary that we can, by whatever means we can find, or to escape if we cannot. Some adversaries deserve to be confronted honestly. We must have the courage to face these, to persist with integrity and to allow them the same dignity. Israel gets his name from the moment he does this.

If this lesson applies in our relations with Esau, then it applies more strongly in our relations with other Jews. No matter how deep or real our disagreements, we should refrain from intemperate rhetoric in dealing with each other.