Outside of the Magic Kingdom, however, reality more often looks like the mess of our biblical narrative: life is filled with wrestlings, misunderstandings, difficult journeys, and, of course, family conflict. Sometimes these challenges resolve into a magical Kodak moment. More often than not, they are resolved in less than fully satisfactory ways, but in ways – if we are lucky - through which can move forward in our lives with more compassion and wisdom than perhaps was had before the conflict.
Jacob and Esau’s reconciliation in Parashat Vayishlach, from which Harry will read and about which he will share some thoughts in a moment, reflects an honest portrayal of conflict resolution that can serve us well. Jacob approaches this meeting with his brother with fear and anxiety, and with good reason. We don’t have to reach too far back into our memory in order to recall the earlier story of Jacob agreeing to a plan of trickery and the ultimate stealing of Esau’s birthright. The first impulse, thus, might be to imagine Jacob as simply fearful for his own survival. He expects his brother to be ready to exact revenge. Who wouldn’t? Vengeance is a common if not base human desire. Our imaginative rabbinic tradition reminds us, however, of the complexity of human emotion. Our fears aren’t always so easy to parse out. The medieval compilation Midrash Rabbah reads, “He was afraid lest he be killed, he was distressed lest he should kill.” Jacob’s great trepidation is not solely about his own physical survival; rather, it is a muddled mix of fear about what may happen to him and anxiety over what he may do to his brother in the midst of conflict. Conflict is distasteful and challenging even to those who hold the most power. Conflict should cause distress; it should force us to consider what we are capable of doing to the other.
Creating peace out of conflict is no
easy task, and the Rabbis of the Rabbinic and early medieval periods aren’t so
eager to portray Jacob and Esau’s resolution as entirely peaceful. They imagine judgment and conflict still
seething just below the surface of the brothers’ exchange. They seem to understand
that a “happily ever after” Disney-esque reunion is too unrealistic for this
encounter. And, as we will read/see in a moment, the dots above each letter of the Hebrew word וישקהו,
found in the biblical text itself, in the
ancient Hebrew, may indicate that although he ends the scene
with a weepy embrace, the biblical writer too hesitated in ending the story so
sweetly. It is as if he was punching out each
syllable with those dots to remind us that it isn’t so easy to overcome
long-standing rivalry.
There is one clue, however, that
offers evidence of the potential for true reconciliation between these
estranged brothers. Soon after their
emotional embrace, Jacob remarks to Esau,
אלהים פני כראת ראיתי פניך
: “seeing your face is like seeing the face
of God.” Despite the rivalry that went
down between them, Jacob is able to see the divine in his brother. Having just experienced an epiphany of God in
last week’s Torah portion, we expect that Jacob knows what he is talking
about. His experience of his brother is
as valuable as was his experience of God.
We
are never told if Esau returns the sentiment, for the biblical narrative is
focused on Jacob. But, it seems to me, that one lesson that
can be drawn from this remarkable verse, and its placement, is that true
reconciliation can only transpire between those who are willing to see the
potential for godliness in each other.
Perhaps if we can do that, we may also find the best of our humanity
within ourselves and others.
Ken y'hi ratzon!
