Rabbi Gila Ruskin
This week’s Torah portion is Parshat Vayeshev: Genesis 37:1-40:23
We all seek superheroes. We want to look up with pride to our ancestor Jacob as a righteous and inspiring leader. All of us are considered his descendants. Jewish people are called B’nai Yisrael, (the children of Israel) Beit Yaakov, (the house of Jacob).
But Jacob was hardly an ambitious young man. He sought the quiet pastoral life. Unlike his brother Esau, who spent his time outdoors hunting game, Jacob preferred to hang out in the tents with his mother Rebecca: “When the boys grew up, Esau became a skillful hunter, a man of the outdoors; but Jacob became a mild man, raising livestock.” (Gen 25:27).
Even the one time he took initiative, negotiating with his brother Esau for the birthright of the family, it was merely for a humble bowl of lentil soup. Hardly the heroics of a tribal chief.
But wasn’t Jacob the crafty co-conspirator along with his wise mother, in deceiving Isaac into granting him the primary blessing to inherit the leadership of the family and the clan?
No, Jacob resisted his mother’s plan by pointing out that he was incapable of disguising himself as the robust, hairy, Esau. Passively obeying his mother, Jacob did manage to steal his brother’s status, but it was not a prize that he had fairly won or cherished. For that deception, he was exiled away from his comfort zone, away from his family’s tent.
Jacob was thrust into his role. After a harrowing journey, he met his first and true love, Rachel, by the well. Weeping as he embraced her, all he wanted was to quietly settle down with her and care for the flocks.
Once again, Jacob was faced with circumstances that demanded action. Fourteen years of labor for his father-in-law, and four female partners in a contentious household were followed by years of exploitation by Laban.
When he finally got away, Jacob faced his brother, and famously wrestled with a divine being and prevailed, receiving a leader’s blessing along with a new name, Yisrael.
Settling back in Canaan, Jacob was hoping to find tranquility, enjoying the pastoral life he craved. Parshat Vayeshev begins: “Now Jacob was settled in the land where his father had sojourned, the land of Canaan.” (Gen 37:1).
But shockingly, just as Jacob sits back on his proverbial lounge chair with a jug of wine, the very next verse reveals that there is trouble with his children: We know that story of the multicolored coat and tattletale reports and goat’s blood and his enraged brothers selling Joseph to a caravan of strangers.
As Rashi wrote: “Jacob wished to live at ease, but this trouble in connection with Joseph suddenly came upon him.”
Genesis Rabbah (5th century CE) plays out a scene as Satan recognizes Jacob’s complacency and intervenes to stir up fraternal strife: “When the righteous live tranquilly and wish to live tranquilly in the world-to-come, Satan accuses them, ‘Are not the righteous satisfied with what is prepared for them in the world-to-come that they seek tranquility in this world too?’” (Genesis Rabbah 84:3).
Seeking tranquility prevented Jacob from seeing the ugly rivalries in his household, from arising from the lounge chair, asserting his role as father, leader of the tribe, and subsequently leader of the covenantal people of which we are descended.
This complacency blinded him to the call to intervene and save his family from tragedy and guilt. In Midrash, the character of Satan recognizes these weaknesses and preys upon them to teach painful lessons.
Years later, famine calls the grief-immobilized Jacob to send his ten sons to Egypt to buy grain. When Jacob arrives in Egypt, despite a miraculous reunion with Joseph, he responds to Pharaoh’s greeting with bitterness: “Few and evil have been my days.” (Genesis 47:9).
Does Jacob ever attain tranquility in this world?
In his final blessing of Joseph (Genesis 48:15), Jacob finally acknowledges his understanding that his ancestors’ and descendants’ journeys advance the ways of God.
Seeking only tranquility can blind us to the turbulent process of developing as individuals, as a people, and as humankind. Moral struggle with adversity leads to triumph over evil and brings genuine peace.
Rabbi Gila Ruskin is rabbi emerita of Temple Adas Shalom in Havre de Grace, Maryland. She is a mosaic midrash artist and a caregiver coach in Philadelphia.