D’var, meaning “the word of Torah” is a lesson on a fundamental Jewish belief. While a d’var may focus on any Jewish text such as the Talmud (a collection Rabbis’ comments on Jewish teachings over the centuries), Midrash (writings examining the Torah), or any contemporary writing, it often interprets the week’s Torah portion called a parashah (the word for portion in Hebrew). Each week Jews read a portion of the Torah, or old testament for Christians. Remember the Torah consists of the five books of Moses: Genesis (B’reishit), Exodus (Shemot), Leviticus (Vayicra), Numbers (Bamidbar), and Deuteronomy (Devarim).
Traditionally the Torah was read over a three-year cycle. Today most Jews have adopted a one-year cycle reading one-third of the weekly portion in order to shorten the time. On Simchat Torah (Rejoicing with the Torah), Jews celebrate the end and new beginning of the cycle by reading the last portion of Deuteronomy and the first part of Genesis. Many synagogues unroll the Torah completely so everyone can see the entire scroll. It’s beautiful and fascinating to see how the text is written differently in some sections.
Orthodox Jews read the Torah on Monday, Thursday, and Saturday while Reform Jews tend to just read on Shabbat, Saturday morning services. Why those other particular weekdays? Those were the market days when more Jews would gather way back when and everyone could be sure there would be a minyan. A minyan is a quorum of ten Jewish adults (over the age of 13 for boys, 12 for girls) required for certain religious events, one being public prayer.
After joining Temple B’Nai Torah in Bellevue, Washington I was asked to sit on the Sisterhood Committee as Events chair. Almost every synagogue has a Sisterhood. Sisterhoods serve their synagogues by hosting and promoting social events, engaging in philanthropic activities, and strengthening the relevancy of Judaism for Jews today. We meet once a month. At the beginning of each meeting, one Sister gives a d’var. Everyone is required to sign up for at least one d’var. I must admit, I was terrified when it was my turn.
In the fall, I randomly picked a date partially through the year figuring it would give time to see what everyone else was doing. Lucky for me, I ended up with one of my favorite portions of the Torah, one I am actually familiar with. My date fell on Parashat Vayishlach.
Here’s the Vayishlach in a nutshell…
Jacob returns to his birthplace, the Holy Land with his wives and children after living for decades in exile in Charan with his awful father-in-law Laban. He must pass through his twin brother Essau’s land along the way. He hasn’t spoken to Essau in decades and the last time they saw each other, Essau threatened to kill Jacob (for good reason—Jacob, whose name means Supplanter, tricked Essau out of their father’s dying blessing after convincing Essau to give up his right as first born in exchange for food). Jacob learns Essau is on his way to meet him with 400 armed men, so Jacob sends his brother gifts to try and appease him. If you think this sounds a bit like a soap opera, I agree with you. Give it a modern-day polish, and millions would tune in.
Fearful of the meeting with his brother, he divides his family into two camps just in case his brother attacks so one half can survive. His family crosses the Jabbok river, but Jacob remains behind and encounters an angel. Some say angel, some say messenger from god, some say it was his brother, and some a robber. Whatever it was, they wrestle all night and Jacob will not allow the angel to leave without giving him a blessing. The angel bestows on Jacob a new name—Israel, meaning he who wrestles with god.
Having wrestled with an angel, Jacob is transformed and ready to meet his brother with humility. The two kiss and makeup. But Jacob moves on. He buys land near Shechem. There his daughter Dinah becomes entangled with the crown prince and her brothers Simeon and Levi avenge her by killing all of the males in the city.
Did I say soap opera? Jacob must flee from the devastated city and his beloved wife Rachel dies giving birth to Benjamin near Bethlehem along the road. When Jacob finally arrives in Heron, his father Isaac dies. The parshah ends with a recitation a Essau’s family tree of descendants.
I’ve never read the Torah before. I did read some of the Old Testament in college years ago, but that is a very different perspective than with a Reform Judaism lens. I love this idea of wrestling with god. This is one of my favorite things about Judaism and something my head and heart completely identifies with. I was raised in an almost anti-religious household. When I was five, I demanded my mom enroll me in Sunday school. It took just a couple of months for me to be kicked out for asking too many questions.
I have always struggled with the idea of god and what god means to me. The desire to question everything is engrained in who I am. The Jewish soul is constantly in motion according to Rabbi Jonathon Sacks. He states we are “an unstable combination of dust of the earth and the breath of god” and that we are constantly making decisions to try and be better each day individually and collectively. Life is about the journey.
Jacob is like most of us, has done some good things and some things he’s regretted. His late-night battle is with the representation of his brother (or maybe his actual brother disguised). In Judaism we must face the people we’ve wronged. We cannot ask god to forgive our wrong doings, we must ask the person we’ve wronged. I believe this parashah means we first have to be ready to forgive ourselves for the wrong as well. Jacob’s chance encounter with the angel is an existential battle.
Whatever we struggle with the most, where we notice we’ve invested most of our energy, this is where our greatest potential lies and often our greatest fear. Jacob knows the next day he must face his brother, a big fear for him. Before he can do this with an open heart, he must face his reprehensible actions from years before. Sometimes you have to study the past in order to move forward. In our busy modern lives people rarely take the time to truly look in the mirror and examine who we are and why we are walking on the path we are on.
There are moments in life that force us to stop and examine who we are and the journey we are on. Being on the eve of achieving a goal we’ve worked hard to attain, a date to meet someone we’ve cared about but haven’t seen in years like Jacob, a severe illness in ourselves or a loved one, or the death of someone we love can provoke such introspection. These moments, as with Jacob, can stop us in our tracks and leave us staring into the mirror questioning who we are, where we want to go, and how we want to get there.
I had such a moment when I took a DNA test three years ago and discovered I wasn’t half black as I was raised to believe but half Jewish. This left me standing in front of the mirror, wondering who I was, wrestling with my frustration with my mother and new biological family, angry over everything that could have been, and feeling lost because so many things were beyond my control.
Life had thrown a curveball in my journey. In order to move forward, I had to take a hard look at who I was and where I wanted to be. I had to give myself the grace to let go of the shame I felt for being an imposter as a biracial child and now as a Jew. I had to try and walk in my mother’s shoes to understand her choices so when I told her I forgave her, I truly did. I had to examine every choice I’d made in my life that brought me staring into the mirror at this pinnacle moment. I
Jacob could have faced his brother with belligerence or haughtiness, just as I could’ve followed a path of staying in my pain and shame. Instead, he wrestled with his demons, forgave himself, and found in his darkest moment the ability to let go and move forward in a positive way. Jacob is a new man with a new name, Israel. Someone who has wrestled with God. Since we are created with a divine spark of God or as Rabbi Sacks said the “breath of God,” I believe this means Jacob wrestled with himself that night.
After his introspection, he chooses a path in his meeting with his brother that can lead to reconciliation. When we open ourselves to true introspection, this frees us to see and follow a humbler path; a path with opportunities so we can be better. I chose that path, a path to grow myself Jewishly and assist others who open Pandora’s DNA box and find themselves standing before the mirror.
