A D’var Torah for Parshat Vayishlach by Rabbi Danielle Stillman
I recently spent a week in Israel/Palestine with a group of fellow rabbis, hearing from different organizations of Jewish Israelis and Palestinians who are working together toward creating a better life for everyone living here. I am spending this year living in Jerusalem, so showing up on this trip was as easy as crossing the city. In other ways, though, the trip filled me with trepidation. Even as someone familiar with the Israeli occupation, I felt nervous about opening myself up to the stories of the Palestinians we would meet.
In this way, I can identify with Jacob, who in Parshat Vayishlach is described as “greatly frightened” (Genesis 32:8) before his impending meeting with Esau: “in his anxiety… he divided the people with him, and the flocks and herds and camels, into two camps.” Well, he should be afraid! Jacob and Esau, two estranged brothers, have not seen each other in over 20 years. When Jacob last left Esau, Jacob had tricked their father Isaac into giving him his blessing, and Esau was planning to kill Jacob. In the intervening years, there is no obvious justice for Esau losing the blessing, and now Jacob must encounter Esau in order to be able to return with his family to his home.
Sign up to receive (M)oral Torah in your inbox each week.
Jacob makes significant preparations to meet Esau. He sends messengers ahead of him with gifts and kind words. He splits his camp to better protect them just in case Esau is still angry and decides to attack. And Jacob engages in spiritual preparation as well — finding himself alone on the riverbank, he wrestles with a divine being and changes his name, perhaps in preparation for this new phase of his life — and a new relationship with his brother.
When the two brothers do meet, there is no attack — just intense emotion. Jacob sends gifts and goes ahead of his family, and as he approaches Esau, he bows low to him seven times. Whether he does so to admit that Esau was wronged when Jacob took his blessing, or simply because he is afraid and wants to pacify Esau, the effect is profound. “Esau ran to greet him. He embraced him and, falling on his neck, he kissed him; and they wept.” (Genesis 33:4) Esau is eager to reunite with his brother and to receive him with love. He asks about Jacob’s family and his life. Jacob, for his part, also undergoes a profound transformation upon greeting Esau. Far from being the scheming blessing-snatcher of his youth, Jacob is interested in connection with Esau rather than material gain. When Esau asks him why he has offered so many gifts and tries to refuse them, Jacob explains: “No, I pray you; if you would do me this favor, accept from me this gift; for to see your face is like seeing the face of God, and you have received me favorably.” (Genesis 33:10)
In this meeting of brothers, Jacob and Esau are both moved by the sight of each other’s faces. They reaffirm their humanity, and by extension, their relation to the divine. Following their reconciliation, they amicably decide to go their separate ways, but the trace of their renewed relationship remains. We see it later in the Torah when their father Isaac dies, and Jacob and Esau come together to bury him. (Genesis 35:29)
Find more commentaries on Parshat Vayishlach.
In the grand scheme of the occupation, individuals or small groups coming together might seem like a small thing, but Jacob and Esau’s meeting shows us just how powerful personal moments of meeting and reconciliation can be. In my week of meeting Palestinians, formally and informally, any nervousness I had dissipated as my group and I were received with appreciation, hospitality, and honesty. This made it easy for me to listen to Palestinian accounts of life under occupation with an open heart and mind.
Along with the power of meeting face to face, we can also learn from this parshah about the power of preparation. Jacob makes many preparations before he meets Esau. What kind of preparations, communal and individual, material and spiritual, will Jews and Palestinians need to make in order to meet and reconcile?
While the political situation in Israel may feel intractable, and cycles of violence continue, the direct meeting of people who are normally separated fills me with hope. Let us begin making preparations now, in the way we talk about the other, in the way we educate our children, and in supporting these grassroots organizations which encourage meeting. Then when all of us are ready to meet, we can receive each other with respect and recognize each other’s humanity — and maybe even see the face of God there.
Rabbi Danielle Stillman is the rabbi and an Associate Chaplain at Middlebury College in Vermont. She is currently spending the year with her family in Jerusalem, exploring the many possibilities for the flourishing of all the peoples in this land.