Poke around the internet for five minutes, and you’ll find countless variations on the idea that diamonds, as stunning and resilient as they are, can only be formed under intense pressure. The message is clear: endure hardship, and you’ll emerge from your struggles with a crystalline perfection beyond imagination. Only by surviving immense burdens can you discover your resilience and transform into the brilliant gem you’re destined to be.
This week’s Torah portion, Vayishlach, offers a profound meditation on struggle, resilience, and transformation. Jacob—soon to be renamed Israel—faces a cascade of trials. He wrestles through the night with a mysterious divine figure and emerges wounded yet blessed, his limp a permanent mark of the encounter. He reconciles with Esau, the brother he once deceived, only to face new heartbreak: the violation of his daughter Dinah and the ruthless violence of his sons, Simeon and Levi. And yet, through all this suffering and chaos, Jacob is affirmed as the father of a great people, an “assembly of nations,” entrusted with blessings that will outlive his own hardships.
Unlike the unscathed diamond of popular wisdom, Jacob emerges far from perfect. He is condemned to limp for the rest of his life, a constant reminder of his struggle with forces beyond his control. His daughter has been assaulted. His sons are guilty of murder. Though he has set up his tent, he is unaware that he will eventually die in Egypt. At this point in the story, he doesn’t know how it all ends. He doesn’t know that Rachel is about to die in childbirth or that he will lose Joseph, albeit temporarily. All he knows is that, so far, betrayal, loss, and struggle have gone hand in hand with love, forgiveness, and blessing. It is at this moment that he becomes Israel—the one who stuggles with God and prevails. Yet he will continue to limp until his last breath.
As history unfolds before us, I can’t help but draw parallels between Jacob and the nation that bears his name. Modern Israel, too, has endured unimaginable suffering and relentless challenges. Like Jacob, it wrestles with external threats and internal discord, grappling with profound questions of identity, purpose, and unity. And, like Jacob, Israel holds within it the promise of a future as bright as a diamond, even if that future must be pursued with a limp. As we await news of a possible hostage deal and a fragile ceasefire, we are reminded that the path to blessing is not without wounds. Still, we can pray that the nation of Israel and we who love and struggle with it will find a way forward—not without pain, not without scars, but with enduring hope for generations to come.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rebecca Abbate
