Fighting Chutzpah with Chutzpah

Well, the neighborhood bully, he’s just one man,
His enemies’ say he’s on their land.
They got him outnumbered about a million to one,
He got no place to escape to, no place to run.
He’s the neighborhood bully.

The neighborhood bully just lives to survive,
He’s criticized and condemned for being alive.
He’s not supposed to fight back, he’s supposed to have thick skin,
He’s supposed to lay down and die when his door is kicked in.
He’s the neighborhood bully.

The neighborhood bully been driven out of every land,
He’s wandered the earth an exiled man.
Seen his family scattered, his people hounded and torn,
He’s always on trial for just being born.
He’s the neighborhood bully.

Well, he knocked out a lynch mob, he was criticized,
Old women condemned him, said he should apologize.
Then he destroyed a bomb factory, nobody was glad.
The bombs were meant for him.
He was supposed to feel bad.
He’s the neighborhood bully.

Well, the chances are against it and the odds are slim
That he’ll live by the rules that the world makes for him,
‘Cause there’s a noose at his neck and a gun at his back
And a license to kill him is given out to every maniac.
He’s the neighborhood bully.

He got no allies to really speak of.
What he gets he must pay for, he don’t get it out of love.
He buys obsolete weapons and he won’t be denied
But no one sends flesh and blood to fight by his side.
He’s the neighborhood bully.

Well, he’s surrounded by pacifists who all want peace,
They pray for it nightly that the bloodshed must cease.
Now, they wouldn’t hurt a fly.
To hurt one they would weep.
They lay and they wait for this bully to fall asleep.
He’s the neighborhood bully.

Every empire that’s enslaved him is gone,
Egypt and Rome, even the great Babylon.
He’s made a garden of paradise in the desert sand,
In bed with nobody, under no one’s command.
He’s the neighborhood bully.

Now his holiest books have been trampled upon,
No contract he signed was worth what it was written on.
He took the crumbs of the world and he turned it into wealth,
Took sickness and disease and he turned it into health.
He’s the neighborhood bully.

What’s anybody indebted to him for?
Nothin’, they say.
He just likes to cause war.
Pride and prejudice and superstition indeed,
They wait for this bully like a dog waits to feed.
He’s the neighborhood bully.

What has he done to wear so many scars?
Does he change the course of rivers?
Does he pollute the moon and stars?
Neighborhood bully, standing on the hill,
Running out the clock, time standing still,
Neighborhood bully
– Bob Dylan

Known for its illustrious stories and extraordinary figures, the book of Genesis depicts the lives of the foremost Biblical personalities. This first of five volumes recorded by Moshe, contains few laws or commandments. Indeed, it reads more like a story, or a series of stories, than a code of moral instruction. No wonder many a secular scholar has classified it as a book of ancient Hebrew folktales.

The Torah commentaries, however, are quick to point out that there is more to this narration than simple legend. Jewish tradition views these accounts as being permeated with valuable lessons on multiple levels.

Our sages go as far as to say: “The deeds of the forefather’s are signposts for their offspring.” For the Rabbis, the Patriarchs/Matriarchs were paragons of our very own lives – their story is keenly relevant and reflective of ours. Genesis, in this light, is a pertinent a manuscript about the world; its purpose; its people, both great and small. It is, essentially, a book of the human journey and our mission as the children of Israel.

Of all the narratives, however, the one about Yaakov most remarkably resembles the story of the Jewish people and their unfathomable historical journey. As the third in the patriarchal dynasty, Yaakov, known as the choicest of the forefathers, is said to contain a fine synthesis of the extraordinary qualities and attributes of his predecessors.

It is, hence, not at all surprising that of the many Biblical figures, not one’s life is more transparent than Yaakov’s. The Torah devotes more verses and chapters to Yaakov’s adventure than to all the other figures combined.

We are introduced to Yaakov even before he is born, as he interacts with his twin brother Esau in their mother’s womb. We come to know him as a young man, a mature adult, and an old man contemplating death. We observe Yaakov interrelating with his parents, his brother, his wives, his children and grandchildren, even with his cunning father-in-law. Each of these anecdotes is replete with relevant messages.

Given the above, the portrait that emerges of this Biblical icon, as a man embroiled in incessant adversity and battle, is all the more disturbing. First there is the protracted struggle with his brother Esau, then with his uncle Laban. Finally, he is seen in a nocturnal wrestling match against an obscure spiritual entity. Why is this archetype of the Jewish faith forever wrestling?

Moreover, some of the methods that our distinguished ancestor resorts to, as a means of prevailing, can be perceived as flat out embarrassing. What, for example, are we to make of our sagacious grandfather dressing up in the clothes of Esau, in order to secure his father’s blessings?

Some of the tactics in which he engages, as a means of gaining his wealth, while in the employ of Laban, are likewise bewildering. And what about his midnight escape from Laban? Even more perplexing is the fact that the Torah tells us all this. Is this something to be proud of? Is it not fodder for the anti Semites, who are more than happy to use this as proof of the devious character of the Jew?

The answer cannot be better stated than as presented in the above quoted song by Bob Dylan.

The function of the Jew, as he goes through life, is to “reclaim” what belongs to him – to interact with the world and release the sparks of holiness that have become trapped in the ugly clutches of Klipah (impurity) and return them to their rightful owner; the Creator of heaven and earth.

The lesson o Yaakov’s lifelong battle is that the corporeal world is not about to give anything up on a silver platter, whether it is the rightful owner or not. To bring the world back under the sovereignty of its legitimate maker, requires cunning and ingenuity. Right and wrong are unfortunately of little significance when dealing with the savage pirates who wish to claim ownership of heaven and earth and everything in between.

Much as Laban audaciously declares to Yaakov – after twenty years of bitter toil: “The daughters are mine, the children are mine, the cattle are mine, and all that you see is mine,” Klipah, i.e. Esau, Laban, and their like, latches on to everything in its path and claims ownership. Much as Laban denied Yaakov his meager wages, Klipah will not give up anything it has stolen, unless it is outwitted and out maneuvered.

The story of Yaakov is indeed the story of the Jewish people throughout history, no matter how much we earn our keep in this would, no matter how much we benefit and enrich the societies and cultures that have hosted us, the familiar mantra of Esau and Laban resounds over and over: “The daughters are mine. . . the cattle is mine. . . all that you see is mine,” and it is we the Jewish people who are portrayed as the thieves and the bullies.

In this week’s Parsha we learn that after all his battles, “Yaakov arrived ”Shaleim“ (intact) at the city of Sh’chem.” Rashi points out that the Torah intimates herein that he arrived intact physically, financially, and spiritually.

Yaakov, the choicest of the ancestors, teaches us that the way to succeed in our mission as a Jew in this world, especially in the dark moments of exile, is not by being timid and passive. Quite the contrary, it requires that we put on the clothes of Esau and beat him at his own game – that we fight cunning with cunning and chutzpah with chutzpah.