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