When I was nine years old my uncle took me to a wrestling match in a car dealership parking lot. Until that evening, in my mind wrestlers were real costumed superheroes -- battling forces of evil and darkness. That view was shattered when my uncle ushered us 'backstage' to meet the mysterious Dr. X. Wow!
In the ring, he was mysterious and fierce. But backstage he was an ordinary guy -- a really big, sweaty, ordinary guy. He wore no mask. He sat in a folding chair. As I waited for his autograph, the man behind the mask mystery was talking to another wrestler. They were deciding which of them would "win" the next bout. Huh!?!
Wrestling is faked?!? 'No way,' I thought. But the evidence was clear. I was devastated.
Dr. X comes to mind often when reading this week's Torah portion, Vayishlach.
It seems especially relevant this year as this particular portion comes at the start of winter break and just a week ahead of Chanukah.
Vayishlach includes the dramatic, dark-of-night wrestling between Jacob and a mysterious being. Is it a real struggle or is it faked? After wrestling with and unmasking this mysterious being Jacob receives a new name and fresh destiny, and emerges into the light. Some claim that the mysterious wrestling opponent is Jacob's brother Esau, others claim it is God or a messenger from God, and others read the opponent as Jacob's psyche -- he is wrestling with himself.
Even without knowing the true identity of Jacob's opponent, however, the Torah offers insight into the interpersonal progression from darkness to light. That insight is suggested by the Hebrew word used to describe "wrestling" - yei-a-veik derived from the Hebrew root aleph-bet-kuf in Genesis 32:25.
Rashi (11th century, France) offers two word-meaning interpretations; Ramban (13th century Spain) offers a third. Taken together these three different interpretations of this one word reveal something powerful about personal growth and transformation.
Rashi acknowledges the word vei-a-veik often is read to come from the Hebrew word for dust (a-vak) -- as in they kicked up dust while wrestling. But he believes it comes from the Aramaic word for grasping (a-veek) -- as in when one person throws another down then entwines their arms. A third interpretation comes from Ramban who understands the word here in relationship to the rabbinic term for a torch (a-vu-kah) made from bundled twigs.
For me, these three interpretations (dust, struggle, light) suggest a developmental approach to growth and transformation. The hard work of wrestling with our demons (or those parts of ourselves that keep us in the dark, blinded) requires us to consider our thoughts and behavior at the most basic level. First, we have to unmask our motivations and impulses by getting down into the dirt with them, so to speak, if we hope to understand them and grow through them. Second we need to struggle or contend with them. Really wrestle. Those first two steps will lead to fresh, newly enlightened awareness. This new awareness is the torch that will light our path going forward.
At this time of year when we might be feeling cold and lonely -- away from friends and our regular routines during winter break, Torah comes to remind us that we can master this struggle. In the midst of winter when days are short and nights are long, when darkness feels most threatening, Chanukah comes to remind us that we can bring light out of darkness.
May we learn from this week's Torah portion how to transform darkness -- digging deep to explore what keeps us down in the dust, struggling to better understand relationships that entwine us, and bringing new wisdom and light into our lives. May we enjoy a winter break of warmth and enlightenment.
In the ring, he was mysterious and fierce. But backstage he was an ordinary guy -- a really big, sweaty, ordinary guy. He wore no mask. He sat in a folding chair. As I waited for his autograph, the man behind the mask mystery was talking to another wrestler. They were deciding which of them would "win" the next bout. Huh!?!
Wrestling is faked?!? 'No way,' I thought. But the evidence was clear. I was devastated.
Dr. X comes to mind often when reading this week's Torah portion, Vayishlach.
It seems especially relevant this year as this particular portion comes at the start of winter break and just a week ahead of Chanukah.
Vayishlach includes the dramatic, dark-of-night wrestling between Jacob and a mysterious being. Is it a real struggle or is it faked? After wrestling with and unmasking this mysterious being Jacob receives a new name and fresh destiny, and emerges into the light. Some claim that the mysterious wrestling opponent is Jacob's brother Esau, others claim it is God or a messenger from God, and others read the opponent as Jacob's psyche -- he is wrestling with himself.
Even without knowing the true identity of Jacob's opponent, however, the Torah offers insight into the interpersonal progression from darkness to light. That insight is suggested by the Hebrew word used to describe "wrestling" - yei-a-veik derived from the Hebrew root aleph-bet-kuf in Genesis 32:25.
Rashi (11th century, France) offers two word-meaning interpretations; Ramban (13th century Spain) offers a third. Taken together these three different interpretations of this one word reveal something powerful about personal growth and transformation.
For me, these three interpretations (dust, struggle, light) suggest a developmental approach to growth and transformation. The hard work of wrestling with our demons (or those parts of ourselves that keep us in the dark, blinded) requires us to consider our thoughts and behavior at the most basic level. First, we have to unmask our motivations and impulses by getting down into the dirt with them, so to speak, if we hope to understand them and grow through them. Second we need to struggle or contend with them. Really wrestle. Those first two steps will lead to fresh, newly enlightened awareness. This new awareness is the torch that will light our path going forward.
At this time of year when we might be feeling cold and lonely -- away from friends and our regular routines during winter break, Torah comes to remind us that we can master this struggle. In the midst of winter when days are short and nights are long, when darkness feels most threatening, Chanukah comes to remind us that we can bring light out of darkness.
May we learn from this week's Torah portion how to transform darkness -- digging deep to explore what keeps us down in the dust, struggling to better understand relationships that entwine us, and bringing new wisdom and light into our lives. May we enjoy a winter break of warmth and enlightenment.
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