Again this week, angels abound in our story.

In the parsha, Jacob is on his way home.

Finally, after decades of living as a kind of fugitive.

He fled from home to escape the wrath of his twin, Esau.

He’s done terrible things; not only did he take his brother’s birthright, he also stole the blessing meant for Esau.

Despite these things, God has been with him, protected him, and he’s become a very wealthy man with two wives and many children.

While Jacob is manipulated by his uncle Laban, he also has lived his life by guile, to the very end of his time in his uncle’s house.

There’s a description of a complicated sort of sorcery that Jacob performs in order to breed and gain the better livestock from his uncle, so that ultimately he leaves an even wealthier man at the very end.

Despite being such a big shot, he’s afraid; he will be seeing his brother again, and knows not what to expect.

Is Esau still angry? Will he be violent?

The way Torah describes things, we can imagine Jacob shaking in his pants. He sends gifts ahead to appease Esau:

And he sent messengers/malakhim (the same word for angels) to Esav.

וַיִּשְׁלַ֨ח יַעֲקֹ֤ב מַלְאָכִים֙ לְפָנָ֔יו אֶל־עֵשָׂ֖ו

Va’yishlakh Yaakov malakhim l’fanav el Esav

In addition, as a precaution he divides his possessions, a very large caravan, into two camps; if Esau attacks, he won’t lose all.

In the night, left alone after making several trips to see his wives and children cross the river safely, Torah tells us that he wrestled with a man all night until the dawn:

וַיִּוָּתֵ֥ר יַעֲקֹ֖ב לְבַדּ֑וֹ וַיֵּאָבֵ֥ק אִישׁ֙ עִמּ֔וֹ עַ֖ד עֲל֥וֹת הַשָּֽׁחַר׃

Va’yivater Yaakov l’vado, va’ye’avek ish imo ad alot hashachar.

We don’t know if this “ish,” meaning man, often interchangeable with “angel” in our scripture, is man, angel—or demon.

Because interestingly, the word meaning “wrestle” also means “demon.”

And he (the man/demon) saw that he couldn’t prevail, so he struck Jacob in the hollow part of his thigh and dislocated/alienated Jacob’s thigh in his wrestling with him.

וַיַּ֗רְא כִּ֣י לֹ֤א יָכֹל֙ ל֔וֹ וַיִּגַּ֖ע בְּכַף־יְרֵכ֑וֹ וַתֵּ֙קַע֙ כַּף־יֶ֣רֶךְ יַעֲקֹ֔ב בְּהֵאָֽבְק֖וֹ עִמּֽוֹ׃

Va’yar ki lo yakhol lo, v'yiga b’khaf-y’reikho, va’teka kaf yerekh Yaakov b’heyavko imo.

Finally, as dawn is breaking, the angel/demon cries out to him, “Let me go! The dawn is breaking!”

וַיֹּ֣אמֶר שַׁלְּחֵ֔נִי כִּ֥י עָלָ֖ה הַשָּׁ֑חַר

Va’yomer, “shalikheini, ki ala hashakhar.”

To which Jacob answers, “I’ll only let you go if you bless me!”

וַיֹּ֙אמֶר֙ לֹ֣א אֲשַֽׁלֵּחֲךָ֔ כִּ֖י אִם־בֵּרַכְתָּֽנִי׃

Va’yomer, “Lo ashaleykhakha, ki im beyrakhtani.”

The angel/demon asks Jacob’s name, and in reply, he changes it:

He said, “your name shall no longer be Jacob/Heal-Clinger, because you have wrestled with Israel and divine beings (elohim) and men/angels, and you endured/were able.

וַיֹּ֗אמֶר לֹ֤א יַעֲקֹב֙ יֵאָמֵ֥ר עוֹד֙ שִׁמְךָ֔ כִּ֖י אִם־יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל כִּֽי־שָׂרִ֧יתָ עִם־אֱלֹהִ֛ים וְעִם־אֲנָשִׁ֖ים וַתּוּכָֽל׃

Va’yomer, “Lo Yaakov ye’amer od shimkha, ki im yisrael, ki sarita im elohim v’im anashim, v’tukhal.”

What does this mean, that Jacob has wrestled with Israel?

Jacob’s new name, Israel translates as “God Prevails” or, more commonly, “God Wrestler.”

And Jacob called the place Piniel/Facing God, “because I have seen divine beings face to face, and my soul/my life was saved.

וַיִּקְרָ֧א יַעֲקֹ֛ב שֵׁ֥ם הַמָּק֖וֹם פְּנִיאֵ֑ל כִּֽי־רָאִ֤יתִי אֱלֹהִים֙ פָּנִ֣ים אֶל־פָּנִ֔ים וַתִּנָּצֵ֖ל נַפְשִֽׁי׃

Va’yikra Yaakov shem hamakom P’niel ki ra’iti elohim panim el-panim, vatinatzel nafshi.

And the sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping on his hip.

וַיִּֽזְרַֽח־ל֣וֹ הַשֶּׁ֔מֶשׁ כַּאֲשֶׁ֥ר עָבַ֖ר אֶת־פְּנוּאֵ֑ל וְה֥וּא צֹלֵ֖עַ עַל־יְרֵכֽוֹ׃

Va’yizrakh lo ha’shemesh ka’asher avar et P’nuel v’hu tzole’a al y’reykho.

Then Jacob looks up and sees Esau coming.

What is the meaning of all this wrestling and blessing and wounding, all with the same angel or demon?

And why does the angel give Jacob a new name as a blessing, only to have God tell him the same thing just a few verses later?

There’s a beautiful midrash, a story told by “the rabbis” (of old), as retold by Rami Shapiro in his book, The Angelic Way.

In this midrash, the angel with whom Jacob wrestles is none other than the Archangel Michael.

God comes to stop him and says, “Why are you trying to kill Jacob?”

To this, Michael answers, “because one with a blemish can not serve you as a priest. Only I can serve you!” (Michael is reiterating a law stated in the Torah repeatedly about the requirement that priests and the animals they sacrifice be unblemished.)

To which God answers, “Michael, you are my priest in Heaven, and Jacob is my priest on Earth. Heal him now!”

And so, Michael calls his minyans, and especially Raphael, the Archangel of Healing.

But Raphael can only keep Jacob alive; he can not remove his wound.

Shapiro explains that the true concern for Michael was that Jacob was trying to usurp the angelic role.

Instead of blessing Jacob as requested, Michael tells Jacob a little secret: that soon he will be getting a new name. This explains the conundrum in the Torah of why God would come soon after to tell Jacob about his name change.

What’s the concern about a human usurping the angelic role?

The answer lies in the fact that “the ego-centered mind cannot do without the angelic capacity, nor can the angelic do without the human.” (p.68)

Angels are God’s messengers, helpers, and healers for humans.

Through this story, Shapiro says, “The rabbis are reflecting the same insight revealed in the Bible…the point is…to look through the angelic and divine lenses of knowing back to the human so as to reveal humankind for what it is—a microcosm of the divine, the image and likeness of God (Gen. 1:26).”

Until now, Jacob has been living his whole life as a “Heal Clinger,” first for the birthright, then for his father’s blessing, then for Laban’s daughters and finally his most valuable sheep.

Now, as Israel, he is ready for transformation, to become a care-taker of the people that is named after him (p.69);

…To be Israel “means one is a wounded warrior, one who, the Bible tells us, walks not at the pace of the warrior but at the pace of the nurturer, ‘a slow pace’—matching those of the cattle and the children (Gen. 33:13-14).”

Shapiro goes on to explain that, as humans, we are not made to be more, but less, “not to ‘play god’ and lord it over others, but to be God, one of compassion in the immediacy of our humanity. This is why Michael must serve Israel, the awakened human soul, and not Jacob, the unseeing ego-centered mind.”

Such a transformation “can only happen when we, like Jacob, overcome our aloneness, our alienation.”

It is our narrow-mindedness as humans that keeps us believing that we are separate from God and everyone and everything around us. (p.70)

Those who have lived their lives with guile are afraid to face themselves. The truth may be too difficult.

Even when we think we have lived an honest life, there are times we lie to ourselves.

When we don’t want to face the truth, when we feel alienated and separate, we grasp for things that we think give our life meaning, like the wealth we may accumulate, great or small, when in fact, all that matters is being connected to others.

Whether we are running from or wrestling with demons or not, transformation can only happen when we face them.

When Jacob finally sees his brother, despite his fear and woundedness, the moment is full of relief, for Esau couldn’t be happier to see his brother.

We are told that Esau runs to Jacob and falls on his neck, kissing him, and together they weep.

Fear vanishes, just as the illusion that he and his brother are separate also vanishes.

It is only now that Jacob can stop grasping and clinging to things that have no importance in the Truth of Life.

To be human is to be wounded. It is our woundedness that leads to wisdom and enlightenment.

Instead of running from, or resenting our wounds, we can use them for their potential to help us to transform.

My blessing for this week is almost the same as last; may we stop running, face our demons, wrestle with them, and continue our deep work of letting go of the egoic self that gives us the illusion of separateness.

With this, may we find healing.

And say Amen.