blogs/rabbi-huberman

We are Wrestlers with God

It is saddening, in my pastoral work, to see how consistently siblings, spouses, and friends will hold on to conflicts, no matter how old or "past due" they are.

So many regularly reach into their black bags of "atrocities" and condemn others for errors in judgment, arrogance, or sins of the heart.

What good does it do? None of us is guiltless. We've all been hurt, and we've all hurt others. We've all done things we've come to regret. Particularly when we're young --though it's possible at any age -- we can lack patience, or run from conflict.

We can take the feelings of others for granted-or forget that they have feelings at all.

Yet, there is a point at which we must come to grips with what has preceded us, and decide to improve our behavior. We call it maturity.

So it is this week for the Jacob, our forefather, as he reflects upon the life he has lived. The news is not good.

So far, in our reading of the Torah, Jacob has lied, cheated, and run from conflict. He has, really, shown a complete lack of conscience.

But things are about to change.  As this week's Parashahopens, Jacob receives news that he and his entourage are on a collision course with his brother Esau -- the same brother whose family birthright Jacob stole decades earlier.

As the day of their meeting approaches, Jacob sends away his wives, servants and children -- and remains alone by the banks of a nearby stream. There he is confronted by a man -- later identified as an angel or spirit -- with whom he wrestles all night. The story is a well-known one.

Our Sages are divided as to whom this entity is.  Some view him as the epitome of evil. Others see it as Esau's guardian angel. Sources also refer to it as the spirit of the river, sent to weaken Jacob before his encounter with Esau.

None of these interpretations speaks to me.

I sense Jacob struggling with himself. For decades, he has dealt with hardships by lying his way out of them, or simply by running. But this time, Esau is approaching: he knows the truth, and there's no escape.

It is now time for Jacob to look at his life and account for his behavior.  Will he survive his encounter with Esau? Is Esau still angry? Will the arrogance and dishonesty of his youth return to haunt him?

Jacob wrestles with the angel throughout the night.

Is his opponent human? That is unlikely. No mortal can endure such a prolonged physical struggle.  Rather, as many rabbis conclude, it is a struggle of conscience which the Torah describes -- not unlike those that each of us has endured at some point.

Sins of impatience?  Sins of arrogance?  Youthful illusions of immortality?

Whatever it is, we can't outrun it forever. Our demons come for us. And herein lies the beauty of Jacob's encounter. The Torah is describing an ageless transition, as each of us advances to a new phase of our lives.

With dawn approaching, Jacob and his adversary let go of each other.

"What is your name?" asks the entity.

"Jacob," our forefather replies.

The stranger's next words will forever change the identity, perhaps the trajectory of Judaism.

"Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel," says the spirit. "For you have struggled with beings divine and human and you have prevailed." (Genesis 32:28)

From that moment, Jacob would be called Yisrael - translated as struggler, or wrestler with God.  And in turn each of us, descendants of Israel, will be known as B'nai Yisrael - Children of Israel.

How fitting.

Indeed, each of us wrestles with God. And like Jacob, each of us struggles with things we may have done decades ago. Yet, as we reflect upon the past, each of us concludes that we are not the persons we were back then.  Sometimes we ask for forgiveness and the chance for a new start.

I receive many calls from those complaining about a sibling, or parent, or a former spouse relating to events or hurt which occurred years ago. Of course some memories will always cause us pain. But we must ask ourselves why, when we've been hurt by others, we sometimes work so hard to keep that pain intact ---fresh, even-- instead of working to feel healed.

Who among us has lived a perfect life? Who has not wrestled with such experiences, and -- like Jacob -- pledged to do better?

Jacob, in his imperfection, provides each of us with some degree of comfort. We are all human. We are all Israel. Sometimes we need to look back at what we've done and decide to do better.

And sometimes we need to look to our loved ones, our families, our friends -- and forgive. Forgive them and mean it, as we likewise seek their forgiveness.

Ultimately, Jacob exits his fateful bout with a hip injury -- a limp which will plague him the rest of his life.  For as the Torah teaches, we cannot fully walk away from past acts we have committed. But we can do better.

As Jacob rises with the dawn, he names the place of this fateful encounter Peniel, meaning "I have seen a divine being face to face, yet my life has been preserved."

Each of us has experienced a similar moment as we reflect upon the waters of truth. In so doing, we become changed human beings.

Indeed, in spite of its imperfect characters, the Torah continues to ring true. For like Jacob and each member of B'nai Yisrael - through a process or reflection, we learn and we grow.

Each one of us wrestles. Each one of us perseveres..

Let us therefore remember as we embrace our often imperfect journey, that each of us is a child of Israel.

Each of us is a child of God.

Shabbat Shalom, v'kol tuv.

Rabbi Irwin Huberman