Friday, November 19, 2010

A Pyrrhic Victory with God: Parshat VaYishlach

This week a cable channel decided to dedicate each night of its prime-time programming to the re-airing of the classic movie franchise: Rocky. As a Philadelphian, one who as a child leapt and bound up the iconic stairs of the Philadelphia Art museum in my best imitation of the most famous fictional character in our city’s history, I was of course obliged to tune in and reconnect with my childhood hero. What I noticed this time was how basically each movie consists of an identical plot – with only slight variations on the theme – and yet still manages to be compelling in its cheesiness.

What is this time-honored and oft-repeated plot?
It’s simple really. Take Rocky, a down-on-his-luck, loveable underdog, match him up against an opponent who is bigger, scarier and a better fighter than him, have him train only half-heartedly until he has the sense knocked into him by his trainer, or his friend, or his wife, and with the ringing of a distant bell and the familiar musical tones of the theme, he bursts out of his funk, entering into an impressive video training montage, which leads to a fifteen round battle with his opponent, and after impossibly furious fighting, Rocky, our hero emerges bloodied, but victorious.

But if we were to look purely at the aftermath, that word victory might be a bit questionable. Swollen eyes, black and blue from the pounding, concussions and weeks spent in the hospital recovering – you call this a victory? His wife Adrianne certainly doesn’t think so.

No, the truth is, that each of Rocky’s triumphs would best be described as a Pyrrhic Victory – that is a victory which comes with a great price to the victor. This term come from Egyptian history, referring to King Pyrrhus of Egypt, who defeated the Roman Army in battles in 280 BCE, but suffered such losses, that he could never replenish his army. It is said that Pyrrhus remarked about his victories: “that one more will utterly undo me.”

And so it is with this morning’s parasha, Parshat VaYishlach. The parsha begins with Ya’akov anxiously anticipating a battle; one against the formidable clan of his estranged brother Esav. It seems that Ya’akov knows that he is about to pay the price for his trickery, for his theft of his father’s birthright all those years ago. Yes, a battle is most certainly coming, but as it turns out, it is not the battle he had anticipated.

After taking his wives and children across the river, Jacob is left by himself in the dark:
וַיִּוָּתֵר יַֽעֲקב לְבַדּוֹ וַיֵּֽאָבֵק אִישׁ עִמּוֹ עַד עֲלוֹת הַשָּֽׁחַר:
Jacob was left utterly alone, and a man wrestled with him until the break of dawn. When he saw that he had not prevailed against him, he wrenched Jacob’s hip at its socket, so that the socket of his hip was strained as he wrestled with him. Then the man said:
שַׁלְּחֵנִי כִּי עָלָה הַשָּׁחַר
“Let me go, for dawn is breaking.”
But Jacob said:
לֹא אֲשַׁלֵּֽחֲךָ כִּי אִם-בֵּֽרַכְתָּֽנִי:
“I will not let you go, unless you bless me.”
It is at this point that the mysterious mans explains to Jacob that he shall no longer be called Ya’akov – but rather he shall now be known as Yisrael –
כִּֽי-שָׂרִיתָ עִם-אֱ-לֹהִים וְעִם-אֲנָשִׁים וַתּוּכָֽל:
“For you have struggled with beings divine and human, and you have prevailed.

Jacob attempts to learn the man’s name – though he refuses to answer.
And after the dust has settled, after the blessing is received, the battle scars remain. Walking away from this new place, this place Ya’Akov calls Peniel – the place he saw a divine being face to face, the Torah tells us that he walks away:
צֹלֵעַ עַל-יְרֵכֽוֹ:
Limping on his hip.

This fascinating story is ripe with unanswered questions. The first being, who is this man, and what was his mission in the first place – furthermore, why did he need to leave at the break of dawn? Secondly, what is the story meant to tell us about the character of Jacob – what does he learn from this encounter with struggle. And finally, what is the significance of his new name Yisrael, the name that all Jews would come to wear as our moniker?

With regards to the identity of our mysterious man, it seems pretty clear from both the p’shat – the plain, contextual meaning of the story, as well as in the annals of the midrash, that this mysterious man is divine in nature. After all, the meaning of Yisrael is explained as recognition that Ya’akov has struggled with beings divine and human – and prevailed. Also, there is a biblical tendency to describe divine beings, or angels, with the anonymous name “Ish” or man; such as the three angels who visit the tent of Abraham and Sarah, in Parshat Vayera. But assuming that this man of mystery is an angel of God, there are still questions as to his mission. The midrash seems to see the man as the personal guardian angel of Esav – bent on harming or killing Ya’akov once and for all. But the Rashbam explains that this man is a personal messenger from God, sent with the purpose of preventing Ya’akov from running away; forcing him to face his fear, to confront his past and to reconcile with his brother. This explanation would explain the Angel’s need to make an early exit, since he was due back in the Heavens to offer God the words of holy praise we echo in our Kedushah.

Now let us return to the question of the character of Jacob and what this struggle with the divine may have taught him. There can be no denying it, Jacob is a complicated character – easily categorized as a trickster. He twice cheats his brother out of the birthright, the second time by taking advantage of his blind father Yitzhak. He also is the victim of cheating, when he discovers that instead of marrying Rachel, as was his intention, Lavan has tricked him into marrying Leah first. - So one can imagine that Jacob was used to a life of struggle. But according to Rashi, this story is significant because of the personal struggle that Ya’akov undertakes with the angel. Whereas his previous blessing from his father was obtained through guile, this time he earns the b’racha for himself. In other words, through this act – the self-doubting trickster Jacob emerges Shalem, complete and at peace, as he is described later on in our parsha.

Finally, the question of the meaning of Yisrael. What does it mean that Jacob is now to be known as the one who struggles with God – and this question is of the utmost of importance to us, seeing as we are the People of Israel, and his name is ours. And this is where God comes into the picture.

This name of ours, Yisrael – is not meant to be taken lightly. It is not simply a happy coincidence that the children of Jacob took his name as their own; instead it should be our defining maxim. The goal of Judaism is not supreme obedience to the law – as it can be in Islam. The goal of Judaism is not simply to express unshakable faith and receive salvation as it can be in Christianity. No, the purpose of Judaism is to seek out and encounter God in the world – to struggle with the divine that is both within and without ourselves – to grab a hold of God and scream: “I simply will not let you go until you bless me, until you bless this world.” I cannot allow you to return to the Heavens without explanation, without confrontation, without embrace.” This is our purpose as Jews: to engage in the encounter, and yes, the struggle with God – in order to receive a blessing that we ourselves merit, not simply one that is passed down through the generations.

But like Jacob’s struggle with the angel – sometimes this encounter can be Pyrrhic in nature. It can hurt to struggle with God. There are moments of let-down, of confusion of loneliness; and even worse there are moments of anger and sorrow and breaking. But this too is God. Jacob would not have been left limping, had his encounter with the angel not have been real! So it is with us; when we seek and struggle, when we strive and yearn, when we reach and fail – that is the very definition of real.

So do not be afraid of the struggle, do not fear the encounter, do not dwell on the injurious moments – instead reach out, embrace God in your lives and in your souls and hold on with all of your strength as you say –
לֹא אֲשַׁלֵּֽחֲךָ כִּי אִם-בֵּֽרַכְתָּֽנִי:
“I will not let you go, until you have blessed me.”

Shabbat Shalom

Shalom Haver: Parshat Tol'dot

Fifteen years ago Thursday, my father called me into the room with tears in his eyes. Speechless, he pointed to the television, fixated on a live broadcast of CNN. “They killed him,” he eventually said, “They killed Rabin.” Our first inclination was to pin the blame on the Palestinian radicals bent on using terror and murder to end the progress of the Oslo Peace Accords. But soon we discovered the unthinkable: Yitzhak Rabin, an early member of the Palmach, Chief of Staff of the Israeli Defense Forces during the Six Day War, the first Prime Minister to be born in Israel, and now a Nobel Peace Prize recipient had been murdered as he left a peace rally in Tel Aviv, shot in the back by a religious Jew named Yigal Amir. In his pocket, a blood-soaked song sheet proclaiming the famous words – Lachein Rak Shiru – Shir L’Shalom; Let us sing a song of peace.
The shock wave which radiated throughout the Jewish world was palpable – as were its consequences. How could this have happened? We asked. A religious Jew, one bound by the Torah’s preeminent command to honor and respect all life – now an assassin, a murderer in the name of a perverted path of Torah. And what will become of the Peace Process? We wondered. That tenuous handshake on the White House Lawn; that moment of cautious triumph when Rabin, long the hawk, turned into the dove of peace; what will become of his mission, now that the man is gone?
And this morning we gather in prayer – fifteen years later and we still do not have the peace that Yitzhak Rabin had imagined and ultimately given his life for. One of the indelible images of the aftermath of his assassination was the eulogy delivered by President Bill Clinton on Har Hertzel, on this very day, November 6th, 1995. His poignant words showed a deep love and respect for Prime Minister Rabin, but the eulogy also contained a charge:

“Your prime minister was a martyr for peace, but he was a victim of hate. Surely, we must learn from his martyrdom that if people cannot let go of the hatred of their enemies, they risk sowing the seeds of hatred among themselves. I ask you, the people of Israel, on behalf of my nation that knows its own long litany of loss, from Abraham Lincoln to President Kennedy to Martin Luther King, do not let that happen to you. In the Knesset, in your homes, in your places of worship, stay the righteous course. As Moses said to the children of Israel when he knew he would not cross over into the promised land, "Be strong and of good courage. Fear not, for God will go with you."


And he ended his hesped with the now-famous two word phrase:
Shalom Haver, Goodbye Friend.

President Clinton repeated this charge with a letter to the editor of this week’s New York Times. In it, Clinton affirms his opinion that if Rabin had lived – there would have been a comprehensive peace agreement between the Israelis and the Palestinians within three years. He also reminds us, that though Rabin is now gone, his plan remains very much in place – serving as the foundation for negotiations to this very day. And President Clinton charges us with the task of finishing Yitzhak Rabin’s work. As he says:
“Let us pray on this anniversary that his service and sacrifice will be redeemed in the Holy Land and that all of us, wherever we live, whatever our capacity, will do our part to build a world where cooperation triumphs over conflict. Rabin’s spirit continues to light the path, but we must all decide to take it.”

This morning’s Torah portion, Parshat Tol’dot begins with an image which very much describes the malaise that many of us feel fifteen years removed from those seeds of peace. After a barren Rivka Immeinu at last becomes pregnant, we learn that the pregnancy is not an easy one for her. Not only is she carrying multiples, but they seem to be fighting with one another from within her very womb. The Torah tells us:
וַיִּתְרֹֽצֲצוּ הַבָּנִים בְּקִרְבָּהּ, וַתֹּאמֶר אִם-כֵּן לָמָּה זֶּה אָנֹכִי?
וַתֵּלֶךְ לִדְרשׁ אֶת-יְהוָֹֽה:
“But the children struggled in her womb, and she said: “If this is so, why do I even exist?” so she went to inquire of the Lord.”

Rashi asks, what were they struggling about? And he answers:
מתרוצצים זה עם זה ומריבים בנחלת שני עולמות
“They were struggling one with the other, because they were fighting over the inheritance of two worlds.”

In other words, according to Rashi, these two brothers were engaged in an existential battle over the inheritance of Olam HaZeh, of this world, and the promise of Olam HaBa, the World to Come. Not only were they fighting over who would receive their father’s blessing and therefore the covenant with the God of Abraham, but their struggle even extended to the very edge of eternity – a question of whose path was right and whose was wrong, who could make a claim to ‘Truth’ with a capital ‘T’.

For some sixty two years, the State of Israel has been engaged in the very same struggle – the fight for two worlds with the Palestinians. The first world, Olam HaZeh, is the more transparent struggle. It is clear what we are arguing about: There is one land with two peoples: you call this town Nablus, we call it Schem; you call it the Dome of the Rock, we call it Har HaBayyit.
When we hear of negotiations beginning once again between the Israelis and the Palestinians, we are referring to the conflict BaOlam HaZeh, of this world: a world of boundaries and borders, of negotiations and final status agreements. And I call upon the leaders of both sides to accomplish what Rabin set out to achieve – a comprehensive peace settlement, putting to rest all questions of conflict in this material world of ours.
But, the harder task is to achieve peace in the battle for the other world – Olam HaBa, the World to Come. This struggle is not tangible, it is ethereal; it is not political it is intellectual, and it cannot be solved by use of creatively-drawn maps or by means of political pressure from the State Department. Ultimately it is this struggle which threatens to haunt us and harm us again and again and again.
It is this struggle for the World to Come which is the cause of Hamas, Islamic Jihad, Hezbolah and the Mullahs of Iran – who celebrate murder and honor those who kill innocents in the name of a perverted path of Islam. It is their unshakable belief in their interpretations of the inscrutable will of God which leads them to see this conflict as not only inevitable, but ordained from on High.
And most unfortunately, they are not alone. It is the same struggle for Olam HaBa, which concerns the ultra-Orthodox and the religiously motivated settlers who see their actions towards preventing peace as completing God’s vision of a modern State of Israel with Biblical proportions. They too are obsessed with the possession of God’s unmitigated Truth – despite the fact that the result of their obsession is the abandonment of unforsakable values of the Jewish faith such as: Pikuach Nefesh, the preeminence of human life, K’vod HaB’riyot, the honoring of our fellow human beings, and Anavah, having humility before God.
So let ours be the voices which call for an end to the battle for both of these worlds. The time has come to finish the work of Yitzhak Rabin and make peace a reality. Fifteen years since we said “Shalom Haver” is too long to wait for peace – and so I pray that another Israeli leader will demonstrate his or her courageous commitment to the creation of Peace Ba Olam HaZeh, in this world, in a land loved by two people.

But, when it comes to the struggle for Olam HaBah, the world to come, let our voices be lent to the fight for tolerance, the championing of civility and to the modest understanding that God’s will is a thing that can only be sensed – never proven, intuited – but never confirmed; for our task as religious people it to define the indefinable, to give a name to the nameless, to try and touch the ineffable, and this task can only be accomplished with the humble understanding that God alone is the Possessor of Truth with a capital ‘T’.

Shalom Haver. I pray that we will see your dream of peace become a reality speedily in our days, in this world, as well as in the next.

Shabbat Shalom.

The Dangers of "I was only Joking" Bullying and Parshat YaYera

בראשית כא:ט
וַתֵּ֨רֶא שָׂרָ֜ה אֶת־בֶּן־הָגָ֧ר הַמִּצְרִ֛ית אֲשֶׁר־יָֽלְדָ֥ה לְאַבְרָהָ֖ם מְצַחֵֽק:
Genesis 21:9
Sarah saw the son whom Hagar the Egyptian had borne to Abraham playing.

בראשית כא:י
וַתֹּ֨אמֶר֙ לְאַבְרָהָ֔ם גָּרֵ֛שׁ הָֽאָמָ֥ה הַזֹּ֖את וְאֶת־בְּנָ֑הּ כִּ֣י לֹ֤א יִירַשׁ֙ בֶּן־הָֽאָמָ֣ה הַזֹּ֔את עִם־בְּנִ֖י עִם־יִצְחָֽק:
Genesis 21:10
And she said to Abraham, cast out that slave woman and her son, for the son of that slave shall not share in the inheritance with my son Isaac.

מדרש רבה בראשית פרשה נג סימן יא
וַתֵּ֨רֶא שָׂרָ֜ה אֶת־בֶּן־הָגָ֧ר הַמִּצְרִ֛ית אֲשֶׁר־יָֽלְדָ֥ה לְאַבְרָהָ֖ם מְצַחֵֽק:
-רבי אלעזר בנו של רבי יוסי הגלילי אומר אין הלשון הזה צחוק אלא לשון שפיכות דמים, היך מה דאת אמר (שמואל ב ב) יקומו נא הנערים וישחקו לפנינו, רבי עזריה משום רבי לוי אמר,
אמר ליה ישמעאל ליצחק "נלך ונראה חלקינו בשדה." והיה ישמעאל נוטל קשת וחצים ומורה כלפי יצחק, ועושה עצמו כאילו מצחק, כן איש רמה את רעהו ואומר "הלא מצחק אני?"

Midrash Bereishit Rabbah 53:11
-Rabi Eliezer the son of Rabi Yosi the Galiliee said: This language of “playing” must mean murder. As it is written: “Let the young men come forward and fight to the death.” Rabi Azaria said in the name of Rabi Levi: Ishmael said to Isaac: “Let’s go out in the field and look at what will be our inheritance.” And Ishmael brought a bow and arrow and pointed them at Isaac, pretending that he was going to kill him. And so it is today, a person will trick their fellow and say, “What, I was only joking!“ and Sarah saw this and said: “cast out that slave-woman and her son, for the son of that slave shall not share in the inheritance with my son Isaac!”
This morning I want us to focus on the powerful last line of this rabbinic midrash which explains that Ishmael was threatening Isaac with physical harm, but passing it off as a joke. “And so it is today,” said the rabbis 1,500 years ago, a person will trick their fellow and say: “What, I was only joking.”

Unfortunately, this statement rings shockingly true in our modern society today in America. All around us, children are being abused, mistreated and harrassed, while our society tends to excuse this with the pathetic excuses, “What, they were only joking,” or “But it’s age-appropriate behavior,” or “Kids will be kids.” Today, a word which has always meant great pain to a child, is now becoming an epidemic in our מְצַחֵֽק society, a word that is a possible definition of the inscrutable
in this morning’s parasha. I am talking about bullying, and unfortunately we have heard this word a lot in recent months.

In a recent study, 77% of the students said they had been bullied at least once. And 14% of those who were bullied said they experienced severe (bad) reactions to the abuse.

23 per cent of elementary students reported being bullied one to three times in the last month school bullying statistics say.

Each day 160,000 students miss school for fear of being bullied; and it is estimated that 100,000 students bring a gun to school each day, in part due to bullying.

And then there are the tragic cases of individuals who recently took their life due to the pain of constant harassment.

Ryan Halligan, a fourteen year old boy, picked on by older boys who called him gay, tricked by girls into thinking that they liked him, only to reject him in public;
hanged himself in his room while his father was away on business.

Or the infamous case of Phoebe Prince, 16, from South Hadley, MA, who killed herself this past March after months of torment, consisting of physical and emotional bullying.

But not all bullying is committed in person, “Cyber-bullying” the idea that our children can be picked on and abused online, through email harassment and through their facebook profiles is quickly becoming the preferred mode of bullying in our society; since it can be hidden from the eyes of teachers and parents, but is nonetheless equally devastating.

As we all saw in the tragic suicide this past month of Tyler Clemente, a freshman at Rutgers University whose private sexual encounter was broadcast live to the web via his roommate’s webcam. Moments before his death, Tyler’s facebook profile read “Jumping of the GW Bridge, sorry.”
As Rabbi Franklin mentioned last week when we installed our new USY teen-board, all of us must work tirelessly to ensure that Temple Emanu-El is a safe space for every child, teen and adult. We must make certain that the tools of our religion are used for the power of tolerance, inclusion and camaraderie, rather than for hatred, harassment and exclusion.
We know it is not always easy, after all, kids will be kids, and adults will be adults, and human beings will be human beings, which means we will use our words to harm and hurt those around us. But it does not mean it always must be this way. Let ours be the first generation to educate and legislate bullying out of existence. Let us champion the mitzvah of וְאָֽהַבְתָּ לְרֵֽעֲךָ כָּמוֹךָ Of loving your neighbor as you love yourself, and teach ourselves and our children that our God commands us to be better, to expect more from ourselves, and to live our lives seriously; and to never accept the frail excuse of: “What, I was only joking.”