Name it!

Recently I attended a learning session titled, "Aaron's Silence and Yaakov's Angel:  Labels and the Search for an Integrated Self."  It was an incredibly rich discussion; the one downside was that it was Shabbat and I couldn't write anything down!  But, I've been mulling over a lot of the ideas for the past week or so, and I want to share a few of them here.

It's clear that names are very important in the Torah.  One of Adam's first tasks is to name all the animals; Abram and Sarai become Abraham and Sarah once they have earned that recognition in Hashem's eyes.  In parasha Vayishlach, Jacob has his famous encounter with an angel, and we see again the significance of names.

Then he [the angel] said, "Let me go, for dawn has broken."
And he [Jacob] said, "I will not let you go unless you bless me."
He said to him, "What is your name?"
He replied, "Jacob."
He said, "No longer will it be said that your name is Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with the divine and with man and have overcome."
Then Jacob inquired, "What is your name?"
And he said, "Why do you ask my name?" And he blessed him there. (Bereishit 32:27-30)

Although there's certainly a lot to explore in the "Jacob-to-Israel" transition, the discussion we had in the workshop centered around Jacob's desire to know the angel's name, and the angel's refusal to disclose it.  In this episode, the angel is widely understood to represent Jacob's estranged brother, Esau, and all of the negativity associated with that figure.  When Jacob asks the angel to name himself, he is really wondering, "Who ARE you?  Where do you get your power?"  And, while appearing to dodge the question, the angel actually gives Jacob the answer:  his strength comes from being unnamed, from being elusive and unknown.  Unlike Jacob, who allows himself to be seen, the angel gathers his negative power by keeping everyone in the dark about who he is.

This same dynamic plays itself out in our lives whenever there is a problem that goes unnamed and unaddressed.  To name something is to make it known and real.  When there is a conflict or crisis brewing, our instinct might be to pretend it's not there and hope it goes away.  However, by not naming it for what it is, we actually allow it to gain momentum and power in our lives.  When we can bring the struggle out into the light, we diffuse the negative energy it builds up around itself.

My eating disorder went unnamed for nearly four years before I was willing to put a label on it.  I thought, if I keep saying there's no problem, then there will be no problem.  In actuality, my refusal to acknowledge my struggle meant that I did not get the help I needed, which only made the problem more severe.  At some point, I became willing to say that I had, "issues with food."  But it wasn't until I was able to call it, "anorexia," that I actually started to work on recovery.

Communities, too, need to be willing to put names to difficult issues.  An eating disorder in secret is still an eating disorder, just like a battered woman who covers her bruises is still being abused, and an alcoholic who hides the bottles still has a drinking problem.  When we pretend these issues don't exist among us, we actually add fuel to their fires by building up the secrecy and shame surrounding them.  In contrast, when we bring a problem out into the light and say, "Here's what we're dealing with," we diminish the shame and the mystery.

There's significance to the fact that Jacob only triumphed over the angel once night gave way to dawn.  In the dark, evil has the advantage.  But once things are exposed in the light for what they truly are, we become able to avoid traps and pitfalls and can begin to repair what is broken.  My wish for us all, as members of communities and as individuals, is that we not be afraid to name our struggles.  Let's bring light into the hidden corners and allow healing to begin.