Being Capable

Eyal was moved by the Syrian children he met when he launched Project Good Neighbor in 2016. “I would see young kids who’d been brought to Israel for treatment fall down and get hurt, but not cry” he began. “I couldn’t understand it. Until a Syrian mother explained that the children didn’t cry because they’d learned long ago in Syria that nobody would come to help them if they did cry” (Stand-Up Nation P. 49).

Perhaps crying when you’re hurt is learned behavior. But crying when you’re touched, when you’re profoundly moved, these tears are more instinctive. More universal. Like the tears of bride and groom or of new parents.

In this week’s portion of Torah, Jacob doesn’t cry when he’s in pain. His night-long wrestling ordeal doesn’t bring him to tears. It’s his reunion with his estranged brother Esau that does. A forgiving Esau brings such relief. Catharsis. The weight of his guilt, worry, and frightfulness are lifted. 

To be clear, sometimes pain is too permanent. Nothing should pardon it. Nothing can vacate it. Still, there are times when a soothing hug can signal healing. 

A bit later, Jacob is described as being complete or whole (shalem) (Gen. 33:18). How so? He’s complete because he’s proven capable (tuchal) (Gen. 32:29). 

Let’s put a fine point on this. Being whole and capable does not mean he doesn’t face problems. Hurts and humiliations keep happening to him and his family. Jacob’s proving to himself that he’s capable means something far more important than never facing problems or challenges. It means this: no matter what life throws at him, he’s capable of eventually extracting something positive from it. 

Jacob’s capability earned him the name Israel. As part of our precious Children of Israel, may you too discover capabilities you didn’t know you had in you. And may that realization moisten your eyes with gratitude.