Shabbat Vayishlach  8 Kislev 5768, Nov 24, 2007

Shabbat Shalom: Parshat Vayishlach Genesis 32:4 -36:43
By Shlomo Riskin

Efrat, Israel – “What’s in a name?” has become a household expression, and Shakespeare would have us be­lieve that an ‘Iago by any other name is just as villainous.’ Nevertheless, we do read in the Bible, “...for as his name is, so is he....” (I Samuel 25:25), that a name goes beyond the incidental sound of syllables, and relates in some impor­tant way to the char­acter of its bearer. What is true for biblical names in general is particularly true about Jacob. Both the name he is born with (Jacob) and the name he re­ceives after wrestling with the stranger at a ford in the Jordan River (Israel) are an expression of the central struggles of his life culminating in a mysterious, near-death encounter which seems crucial to the development of our nation Israel.

Let us attempt to examine the etymologies of the two names, and try to discover the major flaw in “Jacob’s” early personality which “Israel” comes to fix. Jacob (Yaakov) comes from the root ‘ekev’ (ayin, kuf, vet) a reminder of the birth of the twins when Yaakov, the younger, grasped onto the heel (Ekev) of Esau the elder; hence the name calls to mind an indirect, circuitous action from behind, a fleeing from direct confrontation. Jacob wants something that Esau has, and he’s trying to hold him back — from behind.

As they grow older, Jacob knows that Esau the hunter is too busy running around and dating Hittite girls to really care about the ‘b’chorah’ — the spiritual inheritance. Instead of asking him to step aside for the brother whose life inside the tents of Shem is devoted to spirituality, he waits for a day when Esau, starved with hunger, eyes a deli­cious soup Jacob is cooking, and in the ensuing con­versation ‘sells’ his birthright for a bowl of red pot­tage. He manipulates Esau instead of confronting him.

The story continues, and Rebecca makes all the arrangements for Jacob to impersonate Esau and steal the blessing from Isaac. But Jacob is a mature adult, who should have confronted his father, informed him of Esau’s sale of the birthright, and reminded him of Esau’s two Hittite wives, a Biblical sin of inter­marriage, which the Bible itself records as having caused a bitterness of soul to Isaac and Re­becca! Why resort to pretense rather than direct discussion and dispute?

A similar thing happens with Laban after he and Jacob agree that Jacob’s salary will be to keep the striped, speckled and streaked cattle which are born in his flock. But then Jacob resorts to subterfuge and “genetic engineering” (as he understood it) in order to “pack the deck,” to manipulate the kind of sheep which would be born to his own material advantage. He should have made the best deal possible, but he also should have been straight up front about his tactics.

Returning after 22 years, Jacob is frightened of facing Esau, (the opening of this week’s portion of Vayishlach), suspicious of an impending battle with the brother he has wronged. He prepares himself with a small army, many gifts, and a strategy to divide his camp in case of an attack. “I will win him over with gifts which are being sent ahead ... hopefully he will forgive me” (Gen. 32-21). But here again why doesn’t he explain to his brother why he did what he did so many years before, and in an outright fashion request forgiveness?

Now, the most probable reason for Jacob’s circuitous style of inter-personal communication is that he lacks the necessary self-confidence for open confrontation. Perhaps that is the price Jacob pays for a childhood bereft of a father’s love, growing up feeling himself to be rejected by the most important individual in his life in favor of his twin brother. No wonder it is difficult for him to confront either the perpetrator or the beneficiary of that rejection. So, Jacob, lacking the ego-strength to directly claim what he believes he truly deserves, chooses a life-plan strat­egy of deception to gain his desires.

<>The significance of the encounter with the stranger at the river’s edge is the existential personality transformation that takes place there. Jacob wrestles all night with a stranger, identified by Rashi as Esau’s guardian angel, the force of evil antithetical to the Jewish people. Other commentaries see the stranger as sym­bolic of the darkness within Jacob’s own soul, the negative aspects of his own personality. But, who­ever this stranger is, Jacob must fight him frontal­ly, must confront him directly. No longer can he keep himself distant, bent down, operating from the side or attacking from behind. He must stand tall and demonstrate a new strength – the kind of ego strength in confrontation that the nation Israel must display if it is not only to survive itself but also to succeed in its mission to bless the world with ethical monotheism.

What gives Jacob the courage now to disgorge the deceptive “Jacobitis” from within himself and emerge as Yisroel, victorious in battle? Perhaps after two decades with the tumultuously deceptive and hypocritical Laban, he can no longer allow himself to see himself within the mirror of Laban’s style of operation; perhaps it is the truth of his beloved Joseph, the heir apparent to Abrahamic leadership, whom he believes worthy of a better legacy from his father than “Jacobism”. But whatever the motivation, it is only after the nocturnal and numinous wrestling match – mother of all confrontations – that Jacob can return to his father’s house and become Israel.

An important Post-Script:

To be sure, the change is not without reserva­tions and Jacob still retains earlier character traits, as is evi­denced by the subsequent story of Shekhem, and the fact that the newly-named Israel is still often referred to in the biblical text as the old Jacob. Jacob’s true ability to face things directly can be seen in the last pages of Genesis, when a full cycle clos­es. Just as he himself had previously arranged to ‘unseat’ Esau, switching the order of blessings from younger to older, he does it again with Efraim and Menashe, Joseph’s two sons. However, this time, he states his will directly, without resorting to deception or subterfuge.

Aware of his father’s fail­ing sight, Joseph places the elder son, Menashe, on the left side, so that when Jacob reaches out with his right hand, this right hand will bless the elder. But Jacob’s outstretched right hand reaches out for Efraim, and he ignores Joseph’s attempt to correct the mistake. Jacob, unlike Isaac, knows precisely who is the worthy one, and this time he doesn’t have to shy away from his choice, pretending, as he was wont to do in the past. What Jacob does is direct and straightforward. The younger is the greater and more deserving son, says the older and wiser Israel, and Efraim must receive the b’chorah, the birthright.

Similarly, when it comes to the blessing of Jacob’s sons, no words are minced. Reuven, the eldest, is subordinated to Joseph and Judah. As far as the rest of the brothers, the father’s exquisite vision sees deep into the heart and soul and future of his sons, a prophecy of the end of days. Jacob, spelling things out so directly, takes the risk of con­frontation and rejection. Yet, he can do this now, illuminating the future of the children of Israel be­cause Jacob has become Israel. Just as he now knows himself inside out, he also knows his chil­dren outside in. The son who felt his father was blind to him has learned to see his own children with clar­ity and understanding. By the end, the son of circuitous sub­terfuge becomes the father of direct con­frontation; the transformation is complete.

Shabbat Shalom
Shlomo Riskin
Chancellor Ohr Torah Stone
Chief Rabbi - Efrat Israel

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