Isaac is faith as fear, reverence and awe. He was the child who was nearly sacrificed. He remains the most shadowy of the patriarchs. His life was simple, his manner quiet, and his demeanor undemonstrative. Often we find him doing exactly what his father did. His is faith as tradition, reverence for the past, continuity. Isaac was a bridge between the generations. Simple, self-contained and pure: that is Isaac.
But Jacob is faith as struggle. Often his life seemed to be a matter of escaping one danger into another. He flees from his vengeful brother, only to find himself at the mercy of deceptive Lavan. He escapes from Lavan, only to encounter Esau marching to meet him with a force of 400 men. He emerges from that meeting unscathed, only to be plunged into the drama of the conflict between Joseph and his other sons (save Benjamin), which caused him great grief. Alone among the patriarchs, he dies in exile. Jacob wrestles, as his descendants – the children of Israel – continue to wrestle with a world that never seems to grant us peace.
Yet Jacob never gives up and is never defeated. He is the man whose greatest religious experiences occur when he is alone, at night, and far from home. Jacob wrestles with the angel of destiny and inner conflict, and says, “I will not let you go until you bless me.” That is how he rescues hope from catastrophe – as Jews have always done. Their darkest nights have always been preludes to their most creative dawns.
They used to say, “zis schver tzu zein a Yid – it’s hard to be a Jew.” In some ways, it still is. It is not easy to face our fears and wrestle with them, refusing to let go until we have turned them into renewed strength and blessing. But speaking personally, I would have it no other way. Judaism is not faith as illusion, seeing the world through the rose-tinted lenses we would wish it to be. It is faith as relentless honesty, seeing evil as evil and fighting it in the name of life, good, and G-d. That is our vocation. It remains a privilege to carry Jacob’s destiny, Israel’s name.
Adapted from “Covenant & Conversation,” a collection of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks’s parshiyot hashavua essays, published by Maggid Books, an imprint of Koren Publishers Jerusalem, in conjunction with the Orthodox Union.