Rabbi Sarah Wolf

December 4, 2009

Family Reunion

Jacob packs up his belongings, gathers his wives and children together, picks out gifts to bring along, and gets ready to travel.  Afraid and anxious, he spends a sleepless night wrestling with his demons.  But as day breaks, Jacob rises, exhausted but determined, and sets out to face what he has been most dreading: a family reunion.

Jacob is not looking forward to this reunion for good reason.  As you may recall, he has tricked his slightly older twin brother Esau into giving away his birthright, and then tricked their father Isaac into giving Jacob the blessing that was meant for his brother.  Esau is so angry that he vows to kill Jacob, so Jacob has to flee from home and live with his uncle Laban.  He works for Laban for twenty years and builds a life for himself.  But tired of being deceived and used by Laban, Jacob finally packs up his family and possessions and sets out to return to the land of Canaan.  And then he gets word that Esau is coming to meet him.  The Torah tells us that Jacob “vayira” and “vayetzer,” “he was afraid” and “upset” about meeting his wild and unpredictable brother after so many years.  A midrash asks why both words are used to describe Jacob’s fear of the encounter, and answers this way: “the meaning... is that [Jacob] was afraid that he should be slain, and he was distressed that he should slay” (BR 76:2).  Jacob is not only afraid of how he will be received at this reunion, but he is equally worried about how he himself will behave.  I don’t know about you, but this sounds awfully familiar to me.

This week’s Torah portion provides us with a timely look at just how fraught family gatherings can be.  At this time of year, we see commercials and movies showing tearful reunions and picture-perfect Thanksgivings, with family members beaming across the table at each other.  Now, I’m sure there are real families like this, people who find it easy and actually fun to celebrate the holidays with their families.  But I also know that many of us have families that fall far short of this ideal.  For those whose family situations are difficult or downright painful, we look around at all those other happy families celebrating together and can feel alienated and lonely.  The loneliness is then compounded by the considerable pressure we feel from society, from family members, and even from our own expectations, not only to spend time with our relatives but to enjoy doing so.  Judaism in particular values home and family so highly that those of us who don’t enjoy being with our relatives feel ashamed, as if our dysfunctional families reflect our moral failings.  This week’s parashah, however, offers some reassurance and some guidance for those whose families don’t measure up.  If you dread going home for the holidays, you are in good company.

The night before Jacob meets Esau, he wrestles with a mysterious being who gives him a new name, Israel, symbolizing a change in Jacob’s identity and a new chapter in his life.  But Jacob is worried that Esau will not recognize that he has changed and will still hold a grudge.  Jacob is also unsure about his own reaction to seeing his brother again.  What if he returns to his old competitive, petty behavior?  The same worries plague us as we head to our family gatherings.  We think, this year will be different.  I won’t be provoked into arguing with my siblings or getting annoyed with my parents.  But as psychoanalyst Mark Smaller says in an article in the New York Times, “holidays can provoke ‘temporary regressions,’ in which parents, adult children and siblings, once reunited, revert to decades-old patterns of behavior.”  Even though we see ourselves as independent, mature adults, just send me and my sister back to our childhood home and we will be fighting over the TV remote in about three minutes.  But Jacob wisely sets a new tone for his interaction with Esau from the beginning: even before seeing him, Jacob sends a humble message to his brother, saying, “I send this message to my lord in the hope of gaining your favor” (Gen. 32:6).  Throughout the encounter, Jacob is nothing but respectful and modest, even bowing before his brother to show his change of heart.  This is a far cry from the old Jacob who took every opportunity to make himself superior to Esau.  

Jacob’s deference may seem over-the-top, but it does show how hard Jacob is trying to make his encounter with Esau a pleasant one.  We too can take care to be especially generous and kind when dealing with volatile family members.  If we strive to create a new, positive atmosphere, our relatives may respond, like Esau did, in kind.  When they finally meet, Esau embraces Jacob and the two brothers weep together, relieved and happy to reconcile, perhaps, but also sad that so much has come between them.  In that moment, both men recognize how disappointing and painful it is when our parents or siblings or children, the people who know us best and are supposed to be our source of comfort and support, are the ones who have hurt us.  These wounds take a long time to heal.

Jacob and Esau’s relationship is complicated.  Love, suspicion, guilt, and forgiveness all make their appearance in the encounter.  Their story reflects our own experiences because it is so messy.  There is no “happily ever after” here.  After Jacob introduces his new family to Esau and urges him to accept his gifts as a peace-offering, Esau invites Jacob to travel home with him.  But Jacob knows that even though they have reconnected after so many years, they won’t ever be comfortable together, so he says, “No, no, please, you go on ahead” and sets out in the opposite direction.  Sometimes, despite our best efforts, we can’t create the kind of relationships with our relatives that we’d like.  But as difficult as it can be to admit that a relationship with a family member is damaged, it is better not to pretend everything is fine.  And if the relationship is actually damaging, it is even more important to recognize that fact and set limits on it.

At the end of the story, we read that Jacob arrives at the city of Shechem safely, or “shalem,” “whole” or “at peace.”  Jacob’s reunion with his brother is a necessary step in becoming whole, but his departing from Esau is also necessary for his wellbeing.  The story of Esau and Jacob, like so many stories about our patriarchs and matriarchs, reminds us that we shouldn’t expect perfection from our families.  The Torah gives us permission to acknowledge our dysfunction instead of sweeping it under the rug, and it also gives us hope that things can get better.  Every time we visit our relatives, we have an opportunity to improve the family dynamic, to repair what has gone wrong and to transform our relationships as we ourselves grow and change.  So hopefully, at the end of the visit, no matter how imperfect it was, we can say, “See you next time,” and make our way home “shalem,” whole and at peace.