NOVEMBER 30 • 2023 | 61
ly selective in the details it
chooses to relate. Why not
paint Jacob in more attractive
colors?
It seems to me that the
Torah is delivering, here as
elsewhere, an extraordinary
message: that if we can truly
relate to God as God, in
His full transcendence and
majesty, then we can relate
to humans as humans in all
their fallibility. In every other
religious literature known to
me, heroes are idealized until
they no longer seem human
at all. They are Divine or
semi-Divine, perfect and
infallible. There is no one
like that in the whole of
Tanach. Even Noah (righ-
teous, perfect) is seen drunk
and disheveled. Even Job
(blameless, upright) eventu-
ally curses his fate. The man
who, more than any other,
epitomizes fallibility is Jacob.
And perhaps that is the
point. Jacob was a Beethoven,
not a Mozart. His life was a
series of struggles. Nothing
came easily to him. He, alone
of the patriarchs, was a man
who chose to be chosen.
Abraham was called by God.
Isaac was chosen before his
birth. Moses, Joshua, Samuel,
David, Isaiah, Jeremiah: these
were all singled out by God
for their mission. Not so
Jacob. It was he who bought
the birthright and took the
blessing, he who chose to
carry Abraham’s destiny into
the future.
Not until he was running
away from home did God
appear to him. Not until
years later, alone, at night,
terrified at the prospect of
meeting Esau, did God or an
angel wrestle with him. He
alone was given, by God or
the angel, a completely new
name, not an enhancement
of his old one but a com-
pletely new identity: “Israel.”
Even more strikingly, despite
the fact that he was told
“Your name shall no more be
called Jacob,” the Torah con-
tinues to call him Jacob, sug-
gesting that his struggle was
lifelong — as, often, is ours.
Were I to choose a
soundtrack for the Jacob I
have come to know, it would
be Beethoven’s Hammerklav-
ier Sonata or his Grosse
Fugue, music of such over-
whelming tension that
it seems on the verge of
bursting through all form
and structure. Yet it was
through these epic struggles
that Beethoven eventually
reached his own version of
serenity, and it was through
Jacob’s extended wres-
tling-match with destiny that
he eventually achieved what
neither Abraham nor Isaac
accomplished: all his chil-
dren stayed within the faith.
“According to the pain is the
reward,” said the Sages.
That is Jacob.
There are saintly people for
whom spirituality comes as
easily as did music to Mozart.
But God does not reach out
only to saints. He reaches out
to all of us. That is why He
gave us Abraham for those
who love, Isaac for those
who fear and Jacob/Israel for
those who struggle.
Hence this week’s
life-changing idea: If you
find yourself struggling with
faith, you are in the company
of Jacob-who-became-Israel,
the father-in-faith of us all.
Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks (1948-
2020) was a global religious leader,
philosopher, the author of more
than 25 books and moral voice for
our time. His series of essays on
the weekly Torah portion, entitled
“Covenant & Conversation” will
continue to be shared and distributed
around the world.
Commitment
and Identity
W
hat is Jewish conti-
nuity? How might
it be attained?
Jewish organizations have
spent many years and millions
of dollars in search of
answers to these ques-
tions. And with good
reason: How can we
expect Jewish identity
to exist in three gener-
ations without Jewish
continuity now?
An answer can be
gleaned through an
examination of the lives
of Jacob and Esau.
Jacob returns to his
ancestral home after 20
years, understandably
terrified of his brother’s poten-
tial reaction. Informed of the
impending approach of Esau’s
army, he divides his household
into two camps to be prepared
for the worst.
What happens defies Jacob’s
expectations. Esau is over-
joyed and thrilled to see him.
The past is the past: “And
Esau ran to meet (Yakov) and
embraced him and fell on his
neck and kissed him and they
wept.”
The two sons of Isaac in an
embrace of peace, love and
hope. The future of Jewish
history was set to take a rad-
ical step in a new direction.
Nevertheless, Jacob prefers a
cool reconciliation, delicately
refusing Esau’s offer to travel
together. Jacob’s reticence to
respond to Esau’s warmth
is striking. Why refuse his
twin brother’s gracious offer?
Jacob’s decision has important
implications for our genera-
tion.
Positive characteristics of
Esau may be found in Jews
across the diaspora: assertive,
self-made people who weep
when they meet a long-lost
Jewish brother from Ethiopia
or Russia, respect their par-
ents and grandparents,
tend to the physical
needs and even recite
the Mourners’ Kaddish.
Financial support and
solidarity missions to
Israel, combined with
their vocal commitment
to Jewry and Israel
reflect a highly devel-
oped sense of (Jewish)
identity.
When it comes to
commitment to Jewish
continuity, many of our
Jewish siblings are, like Esau,
sadly found to be wanting.
Esau’s name means fully made,
complete. He exists in the
present. He has no commit-
ment to past or future. He is
emotional about identity, but
unwilling to make sacrifices to
its continuity.
On the other hand, Yakov is
a future-tense verb. He is con-
stantly planning, anticipating
what he must do to perpetuate
the birthright.
Similarly, if we are to attain
Jewish continuity, we must
internalize two crucial lessons
from the example of Jacob
and Esau: Never sell one’s
birthright for any price and
guarantee a Jewish future by
planning strategically with
an eye toward the long term,
sacrificing short-term gains to
demonstrate a commitment to
continuing the legacy and life-
style of Abraham and Sarah.
Shlomo Riskin is chancellor of Ohr
Torah Stone and chief rabbi of Efrat
Israel.
SPIRIT
TORAH PORTION
Rabbi
Shlomo
Riskin
Parshat
Vayishlach:
Genesis
32:4-36:43;
Obediah
1:1-21.