This can be a complicated time of year for Jews. The High Holidays are filled with possibility, liveliness and people coming together, but also with struggle, and not just the kind of soul-searching and grappling inherent in the Days of Awe.
In recent weeks, many have found themselves sitting inside a synagogue they rarely go to and reading words they barely understand, let alone believe in. All this comes as our work lives get back into gear after the lull of summer, and our children begin the first days of school. Meetings are being set, projects are beginning, and then we pull out of it all. These decisions do not come easy for so many of us who straddle two worlds, leaving more than a few cynically questioning: what do I do it for? What do I actually want? What do I believe in?
Rabbi Brian Besser teaches that skepticism is a kind of prayer, noting that “Israel” means “one who struggles with God.” The name of Israel is proclaimed in the Bible for the first time when Jacob wrestles with a stranger. Before releasing his grasp, Jacob insists on receiving a blessing, to which the stranger responds: “Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with beings divine and human, and have prevailed” (Genesis 32:29).
For centuries, this iconic biblical story has been fodder for artists such as Rembrandt, Eugene Delacroix and Paul Gauguin. In Toronto, we have a remarkable sculpture of this scene by the distinguished Jewish artist Nathan Rapoport, best known for his striking memorial to the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising in Warsaw and also at Yad Vashem in Jerusalem.
In the Toronto sculpture, Rapoport compresses the events of the night-long struggle into a single, stirring moment. In the same gesture in which the two figures wrestle, the angel benevolently reaches out an imposing hand over Jacob’s head, subtly making the priestly sign of the kohanim with fingers parted, foreshadowing Jacob receiving his blessing.
The intensity of the action is contained in the embracing, curving sweep of the angel’s wings. There is both a solidity and lightness to Rapoport’s distinct handling of the subject, with the angel hovering overhead and Jacob bracing himself against a rocky surface. Although the artists mentioned above, working in two dimensions, were free from the limitations of gravity to represent the story in any way their imaginations would allow, they all depicted scenes with both figures locked in a close grip, firmly grounded on land. The viewer bears witness to a tense, intimate battle.
By contrast, the openness of Rapoport’s composition provides an opening for the viewer to see himself within the action. To my knowledge, Rapoport’s circular design in conceiving of this biblical narrative is highly unique. The structure is reminiscent of the emphasis placed on circularity at this time in the Jewish calendar, when we take stock of circling through another year, and measure the continuity of life and the seasons. The viewer is drawn into the exchange between the struggling figures, and the open form and dynamic movement in Rapoport’s sculpture connects us to the surroundings. Through it, we see trees, passing people and the activity of a community, and are reminded of our place within the struggle.
Rapoport once stated that the statue symbolizes the Jewish People committed to fighting for their destiny. At this time of year, when many of us are confronted with a fundamental conflict of how to be Jewish in a modern world, here is a reminder – an endorsement even – that skepticism and struggling to find a place within Jewish customs and community is the kind of resistant engagement that our tradition embraces. The melding of both wrestling and embrace that Rapoport has captured in his enduring work of art demonstrates how passionate affection and contentious conflict can appear similar, and are often experienced in a symbiotic relationship. Wrestling with tradition implies a fond connection to it.
May 5776 be filled with nourishing struggle!
