(25) Jacob was left alone. And a figure wrestled with him until the break of dawn. (26) 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. (27) Then he said, “Let me go, for dawn is breaking.” But he answered, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.” (28) Said the other, “What is your name?” He replied, “Jacob.” (29) Said he, “Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with beings divine and human, and you have prevailed.”
Unless you bless me: You came to harm me, so I shall not let you go until you make peace with me, and bless me, and acknowledge that I have succeeded in striving with you.
Questions To Consider
a. How do you understand what is happening to Jacob in the dark night before he encounters his estranged brother in the morning?
b. In the light of the teaching of the Bekhor Shor, how would you translate and understand Jacob's new name?
c. Have you ever been able to wrestle a blessing from a time of great adversity?
רַבִּי אֶלְעָזָר חֲלַשׁ. עַל לְגַבֵּיהּ רַבִּי יוֹחָנָן. חֲזָא דַּהֲוָה קָא גָּנֵי בְּבֵית אָפֵל. גַּלְיֵיהּ לִדְרָעֵיהּ וּנְפַל נְהוֹרָא. חַזְיֵיהּ דַּהֲוָה קָא בָּכֵי רַבִּי אֶלְעָזָר. אֲמַר לֵיהּ: אַמַּאי קָא בָּכֵית? אִי מִשּׁוּם תּוֹרָה דְּלָא אַפֵּשְׁתְּ — שָׁנִינוּ: אֶחָד הַמַּרְבֶּה וְאֶחָד הַמַּמְעִיט, וּבִלְבַד שֶׁיְּכַוֵּין לִבּוֹ לַשָּׁמַיִם. וְאִי מִשּׁוּם מְזוֹנֵי — לֹא כׇּל אָדָם זוֹכֶה לִשְׁתֵּי שֻׁלְחָנוֹת. וְאִי מִשּׁוּם בְּנֵי — דֵּין גַּרְמָא דַּעֲשִׂירָאָה בִּיר.
אֲמַר לֵיהּ: לְהַאי שׁוּפְרָא דְּבָלֵי בְּעַפְרָא קָא בָּכֵינָא.
אֲמַר לֵיהּ: עַל דָּא וַדַּאי קָא בָּכֵית, וּבְכוֹ תַּרְוַיְיהוּ.
אַדְּהָכִי וְהָכִי אֲמַר לֵיהּ: חֲבִיבִין עָלֶיךָ יִסּוּרִין? אֲמַר לֵיהּ: לֹא הֵן וְלֹא שְׂכָרָן. אֲמַר לֵיהּ: הַב לִי יְדָךְ, יְהַב לֵיהּ יְדֵיהּ, וְאוֹקְמֵיהּ.
[Note: this text is the continuation of the story of Rabbi Yohanan from the second sheet accompanying Chapter 6. In brief, Rabbi Yohanan is a healer with extraordinary powers. At some point, he himself falls ill, and a colleague has to come support him. The Rabbis wonder: why could this healer not heal himself? They reason: a prisoner cannot free himself from prison. This is the very next episode in the Rabbi Yohanan narrative:]
...Rabbi Elazar fell ill, and Rabbi Yohanan came to visit him. He saw that Rabbi Elazar was lying in darkness; he pulled back his own sleeve and the room filled with light. By that light, he could see that Rabbi Elazar was weeping. He asked, "Why are you weeping? If it is because you are worried you have not studied enough Torah, we have learned that whether a person studies a little or a lot, they still get credit provided they directed their heart to Heaven. And if it is because you do not have enough sustenance - not everyone gets to eat at two tables. And if you are crying over children, look! This is a bone from the little finger of my tenth son."
"I am crying for the beauty that will fade away in the dust!" replied Rabbi Elazar.
"That's a good reason to cry," responded Rabbi Yohanan, and the two of them wept together.
After a while, Rabbi Yohanan said to Rabbi Elazar, "Is your pain welcome to you?" "No!" replied Rabbi Elazar, "not my pain, and not any reward it might bring me!" "Give me your hand," said Rabbi Yohanan - and he did, and Rabbi Yohanan raised him up.
Questions To Consider
a. Rabbi Yohanan is an exceptional healer with many years of experience in the field. He knows how to do this right-- he has successfully brought comfort and healing to many people before Rabbi Elazar. What goes wrong this time?
b. In retrospect, how should Rabbi Yohanan have approached Rabbi Elazar? What did the patient need?
c. Think of a time when you were struggling or suffering. Could you share how someone else's presence either hurt or strengthened you? What have you found to be the wrong thing to say? What felt right?
d. What does this coda to the Rabbi Yohanan story teach us about how to bear with-ness?
אין המנחמים רשאים לפתוח עד שיפתח האבל תחלה והאבל מיסב בראש וכיון שנענע האבל בראשו בענין שנראה שפוטר את המנחמים אינם רשאים לישב אצלו: (אין אבל או חולה חייבים לעמוד אפילו מפני נשיא): (פ' א"מ):
The comforters are not permitted to open conversation until the mourner opens first; and the mourner reclines at the head of the mourner's meal. And as soon as the mourner nods their head in a manner from which it is indicative that they dismiss the comforters, they are not permitted to stay. (And a mourner or a sick person does not get up, even for a person of status.)
Colin Campbell, Finding The Words, p. 72
I don't mean to imply that it's easy to reach out to friends while we are in mourning. It's not. Most days I feel like I don't have the emotional bandwidth to talk to anyone, let alone reach out to them first. It can be hard to ask for help when we are in such pain. And even harder if those requests go unanswered or are rebuffed. I have had to learn that some friends and family are limited in their ability to engage in my grief. No matter how many times I tell them what I need, they just aren't able to accompany me in the way that I would wish. I have learned to try to accept these limitations. Instead of turning bitter and resentful, I try to take whatever I can from each relationship. I try my best to stay open to anyone who has any love to offer me.
Questions To Consider
a. What are the primary reasons people stay away when someone they care about is suffering? How do these two texts help us navigate those concerns?
b. When have you gotten this wrong, and when have you gotten it right?
Invitation To Practice (The Amen Effect p. 188)
[Reach out to a loved one who is unwell.] Practice sitting with the discomfort. Don't try to fix it or offer some brilliant take. Just be present and trust the power of your sacred with-ness.