Running with the Weight of Gold — Letters to a young man

8: Jacob and the Struggle to Become

BS”D

Sunday 25 November 2018

Jerusalem

Dear D –

King David laments (Ps. 51:5) “For I recognize my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me.” This refers to the episode of David and Bathsheba (II Samuel, chapters 12–13), but the sentiment is applicable to us all.

This week’s Torah portion (Gen. 32:4–36:43) brings Jacob back into the world he fled over twenty years ago, and its core episode gives us multiple ways of relating to David’s admission, and in the process, of discovering profound truths about ourselves.

Jacob returns to Canaan at God’s instruction, but then learns that his brother Esau is coming to meet him (32:7) “and four hundred men are with him.” Despite God’s promise of protection and God’s explicit direction to return, Jacob is filled with dread. Immediately, Jacob takes tactical measures, hoping that Esau will not wipe out his entire family. He first divides everything and everyone into two camps — and note the words the Torah uses. Last week’s portion ended with Jacob giving the name Two Camps to the place where he crosses out of Haran, describing his two encounters with angels — the dream of the ladder as he fled Canaan, and the second encounter as he returns home. Jacob acknowledges God’s graciousness and abundance; (32:11) “I am humbled by the kindness and the truth You have done for Your servant; for with only my staff I crossed this Jordan, and now I have become two camps!”

What is the significance of this division of Jacob’s assets — and of his family? The last thing Jacob heard was that Esau was bent on murdering him for the theft of the birthright and of the blessing. Twenty-one years have passed, but Jacob remembers Esau as he was on the eve of Jacob’s flight. When they reunite, we see that Esau has put the incident out of mind. He is genuinely pleased to see Jacob and addresses him in brotherly fashion: (33:4) “Esau ran toward him and embraced him and fell on is neck and kissed him, and they wept.” Esau may have forgotten his anger, but Jacob clearly still feels his own guilt as intensely as if it were yesterday.

We are getting ahead of ourselves, because the key incident in this portion occurs before they meet. In the opening passage (32:4–24) Jacob is frightened. He sets up an elaborate sequence of expensive gifts, instructing his servants to go ahead and offer presents to Esau in an attempt to appease him. Then, in the middle of the night and under cover of darkness, Jacob ferries his entire family and all his possessions across the river into Canaan.

And then: (32:25–30) “And Jacob remained alone, and a man wrestled with him until the coming of the dawn. And he saw that he could not defeat him, and he thrust against his hip socket, so Jacob’s hip was dislocated as he wrestled with him. Then he said, ‘Let me go, because the dawn has broken.’ And he said, ‘I will not let you go unless you bless me.’ He said to him, ‘What is your name?’ And he said, ‘Jacob.’ And he said, ‘Your name shall no longer be called Jacob, but rather Israel, because you have struggled with God and with man and you were equal to the task.’ And Jacob asked and said, ‘Please tell me your name,’ and he said, ‘Why this? Why do you ask my name?’ and he blessed him there.”

The “he” and “him” repetition are as ambiguous in the original as in this translation, but it all works out; the speakers are in their right places. The rabbis call this “man” Esau’s guardian angel. If our greatest drive to accomplishment is enthusiasm, then our greatest enemy is depression and despair. This is what is cast over Jacob. It suggests that the rabbis called this “man” Esau’s guardian angel because they read the doubt, the fear, the tremendous guilt lodged in Jacob’s heart. People have power over us to the extent we give it to them. How often does our inability to face ourselves result in our surrendering control of ourselves to others? Or to no one at all — blaming the world for our failures? Or blaming God?

Jacob has spent his life getting stuff, yet we have not seen him doing anything to acquire wisdom. He talks his brother out of the birthright, bartering it for the mess of pottage. He steals the blessing from their father. He acquires two wives and two concubines. He builds up a family of twelve sons and at least one daughter, and amasses a fortune in livestock. And how many men do we know — especially here on Wall Street — whose lives center around building wealth? I often hear men say, “It’s not about making money any more — money is just a way of keeping score.” But they are lying — not to us, more likely to themselves.

I recently saw Larry Fink, CEO of Blackrock, interviewed on Bloomberg TV. The interviewer asked about “your $6.3 billion…” Fink corrected him, saying that Blackrock has over $6 billion under management. “If I had that kind of money,” Fink chuckled, “I wouldn’t be sitting here…” Laughter all around. But Fink does have a net worth of over one billion, according to the latest reports. Which is an amount 500–1000 times what most normal people would cite as an excuse for never going back to work in their lives. In other words, it’s not about keeping score. It’s really not. What it is about is — money.

Jacob has a tremendously successful material life. Twelve sons — and family standing was largely based on male progeny in that society. Endless flocks of sheep and goats. In addition, he has great herds of cattle, donkeys, as well as camels. Judging by the gift Jacob sends to his brother (32:14–16) Jacob is as wealthy as a successful hedge fund manager. And now he sends on all his worldly possessions in order to safeguard them. And without his family, and without his material possessions, Jacob remains truly alone.

And being alone, he is forced to confront himself. What’s going on within? When he comes face to face with his unexamined self, Jacob is at a loss. Who are you? What is your name? What shall I call you? And how shall I engage with you? In the struggle, Jacob is injured, resulting in a limp. Yet he is blessed, and his blessing — his new name Israel — is given not because he won, but because he was able. He hung in. Jacob’s lesson is that it is not about winning; rather, it is about being able to hobble off the field on his own, and about being able to return to the field again.

What do we learn when, as King David says, our sin is ever before us? One reading is, no matter what I have done to make up for bad things I have done or said, I still bear the guilt. Never mind that I have repaid many times over the problems I have created, I still bear the emotional wounds as though it were yesterday. At night when I lie in the dark, my gut wrenches, my neck twitches and my shoulders quiver in shame and grief over my past actions.

Or: I have faced my shortcomings and my worst actions, difficult as it was. Things I have done in the past — or failed to do — I have confronted. I have explored the feelings that drove me to this behavior, my own inability to see those feelings for what they were. I have examined the impact I have had on others. And even though I can’t wipe out my painful emotions, I have confronted my inability to deal with my feelings, the lack of self-awareness that drove me to those behaviors in the past, my knee-jerk reaction to act out my worst impulses. And just as I have faced and overcome my troubles in the past — and yes, I still have feelings of guilt, of inadequacy, of inexplicable anger, of depression, even of despair — I can revisit my past emotional successes to draw strength and wisdom with which to face today’s challenges.

My emotions are part of who I am. They will never go away. My past will never go away. Which means it’s all right there, right in front of me, just waiting for me to dive in and learn what it’s all about. If I fail to learn from my own past, I shall surely never build a better future.

In Hebrew the name Israel is from the verb meaning to struggle. It looks like a future tense form of the verb, suggesting that Jacob is renamed, not The One Who Struggled, but The One Who Will Struggle. Here’s the bad news: it never gets easier. Life is an ongoing continuum of challenges, and when we win, up pops another battle. Here’s the other bad news: you will lose very often and almost never win. And when you do win, it will be temporary.

Here’s the good news: success in life is not about winning. God needs each one of us to stay in the game. Those for whom life is all about winning — about making more and more money — will fail because there will never be enough money for them to sit back and declare victory. (Ecclesiastes 5:10, “He who loves money will not be satisfied with money.”) Jacob learns the hardest lesson of all; that the world does not need winners. It needs people who keep coming back to the playing field and putting out a full measure of effort. People who don’t make material success their sole value. People who learn from their own pain and use it to make themselves stronger. We have all created suffering through unthinking acts. Suffering for others and for ourselves. The task now, armed with self-knowledge, is to relieve suffering wherever we encounter it in the world. For ourselves, and for others.

And so it is good that my sin remains by my side, because it is the best teacher. When my most painful emotions rise up, I confront them. “I will not let you go until you bless me,” I say. “Until you teach me.” When we learn to see the blessings within the most difficult parts of our lives, we begin taking our first steps on the path of wisdom.

Yours for a better world –

Moshe