Vayishlach - Demanding Blessing

I would like to dedicate this shiur to the memory of our holy soldiers: Ephraim ben Liat v’Shmuel, Yosef Malachi ben Dina v’David, Eliyahu Moshe Shlomo ben Sarah v’Shimon, Yosef Chaim ben Rachel v’Eliyahu, Netanel ben Revital v’Elad, Yakir ben Chaya v’Yehoshua.

Hashem yikom damam, along with all the righteous soldiers who have fallen in this war, protecting Am Yisrael.

May their memory be a blessing, and may our Torah elevate their neshamot and give strength to their families.

Yaakov and names… it almost feels like the Torah wants us to slow down and notice the layers. Why is there so much complexity around how Yaakov names himself — and how he is named? What is the Torah hinting at, and what are we meant to uncover in this shifting, unfolding identity?. 

He calls himself Esav, later must declare with certainty “I am Yaakov,” and then receives an entirely new name. Three identity moments, each revealing a shift. It feels as if the Torah is guiding us through a process of moving from confusion to clarity, from hiding to truth, from uncertainty to a rooted sense of self, and finally toward clarity of mission — toward bringing the great light that will one day become the nation of God.

So let’s step into Yaakov’s story and watch that process unfold.

Yaakov’s Early Clarity — Recognizing the Birthright as Service 

Yaakov’s first moment of spiritual self-direction appears when he seeks the bechora. He understood very young that the bechora was not a privilege but a responsibility — a calling to avodat Hashem.

Rashi on Bereishit 25:31 explains:

“העבודה מסורה לבכורות… אדם שופך דמים אינו כדאי לעבוד.”“The sacred service was entrusted to the firstborn… a man who sheds blood is not fit for it.”

Yaakov recognized that Esav — with his violence and impulsivity — could not carry the spiritual service.

Sforno adds:

“זכה לעבוד את ה׳… בעבור כן בקש יעקב הבכורה.”“To merit serving God… for this reason Yaakov sought the bechora.”

Ramban sharpens the point:

“עשו מאס העבודה… וידע יעקב כי אין לאחיו חפץ בה.”“Esav despised the holy service… and Yaakov knew his brother had no interest in it.”

Yaakov stepped forward because he saw exactly what needed to be done. It may be that this very clarity — his deep recognition that the bechora was a sacred responsibility — is what allowed him to agree to his mother’s plan, even while holding back the truth that he had already rightfully acquired the bechora through purchase.

The First Identity Test — “Mi Atah Beni?”

When Yitzchak asks Yaakov, “מי אתה בני?”, "Who are you my son?" Yaakov cannot yet say the name that matches his inner truth. He knows the bechora belongs with him, but he has not yet grown into the voice that can claim it openly. This tension becomes the arc of his life — the gap between inner intuition and outward identity.

Lavan’s House — The Long Refinement Through Challenge

Yaakov’s years with Lavan form the crucible where inner awareness becomes lived strength. The Torah describes twenty years of labor, deceit, struggle, and survival.

Ramban explains that Yaakov’s hardships were not random; they were part of a divine, shaping process:

“כָּל זֶה הָיָה גְּזֵרַת עֶלְיוֹן לְהוֹלִיד שְׁנֵי מַחֲנוֹת.”“All of this was the decree of the One on High in order to bring about the birth of the two camps.”

This means that Yaakov’s challenges — the exhaustion, the conflicts, the injustices — were the very experiences through which he was being shaped into the father of the emerging nation.

This is exactly the life-pattern we see in people tested by loss, grief, or hardship: their strength is not accidental. It is forged in the fires of their lives, and it becomes a source of compassion and leadership.

The Night of Wrestling — Claiming His Name at Last

On the night before meeting Esav, Yaakov is finally alone — no family, no possessions, no noise to distract him. He is forced to see himself without defenses, without roles, without anyone else’s voice shaping his identity. In that solitude, he confronts everything unresolved inside him.

He wrestles with the mysterious figure until daybreak. When asked, "מה שמך?" — What is your name? — he finally answers with full clarity:

“יעקב.”

This is the moment when decades of struggle resolve into a single, honest declaration of identity. Only then does he receive his new name — Yisrael — the one who stands, who wrestles, who endures, who prevails.

“I Will Not Let You Go Until You Bless Me” — Strength Born of Experience

After the struggle, Yaakov demands a blessing:

“לא אשלחך כי אם ברכתני.”

This is the voice of someone who has grown through responsibility, through tests, through loss and endurance. It is the voice of people who rise after tragedy and transform their pain into acts of kindness, foundations, support networks, and healing for others.

So much of the world’s most powerful chesed comes from those who, like Yaakov, refuse to let their struggle end in darkness and instead demand that a blessing emerge from it.

In the moment he says, “I am Yaakov,” he is finally owning everything — his story, his choices, his fears, his tests, his resilience. He sees that the struggle did not break him; it shaped him. He was not defeated by the angel of Esav; despite his wound, he endured, he stood, he became.

And the Torah asks us never to forget that wound — commanding us not to eat from the gid hanasheh so that every time we sit down to a meal of meat, we recall this very moment. The wound is part of the blessing story. It marks us with the truth that the struggle itself has weight and meaning — and it is precisely because he was wounded yet unbroken that Yaakov can demand the blessing.

Suddenly, the truth is clear: he is the blessing. His life, his perseverance, his becoming — all of it is the source of the light that will one day become a nation. So when he demands a blessing, he is really demanding acknowledgment of what has already emerged inside him. He is asking for confirmation that the pain, the risk, the honesty, the courage — all of it — will indeed give rise to great light. That the blessing is now his right, his identity, his mission.

The Journey of Yaakov Is the Journey of Every Soul Tested by Life

Yaakov teaches that a person can sense their mission early, that life’s challenges strengthen them to carry it, that moments of confrontation clarify it, and that the blessing is earned when they finally step into their name — with full truth, strength, and a reclaimed sense of who they truly are.

Because a person who has struggled, who has lost pieces of themselves along the way, who has faced confusion or identity‑fracture, is wounded yet refuses to break — such a person becomes a source of blessing and can demand blessing. Their journey shapes them into someone who can bring light far beyond anything they could have imagined at the beginning.

Chazal say: "במקום שבעלי תשובה עומדין אין צדיקים גמורים יכולין לעמוד" — In the place where baalei teshuva stand, even the perfectly righteous cannot stand.

This is the secret of teshuva — a profound return to oneself. It is the courage to reclaim one’s true name and identity after being shaken, tested, or wounded. It is the declaration that the journey did not break me — it revealed me.

A baal teshuva, in this sense, stands on a higher level not because they were once distant, but because they fought their way back to the core of who they are. They finally call out "I am Yaakov!" They take ownership of their story, gather the scattered parts of themselves, and rise with a light born specifically from the struggle.

They are not returning to who they once were — they are stepping into who they were meant to be all along: a source of blessing, of clarity, of courage - Yisrael. Like Yaakov, they emerge not broken, but expanded — a living blessing in the world, forged by truth and transformed by resilience.