Parshat Vayishlach: The Meaning of the Name Israel

The Hanassi Blog is delighted to host another devar Torah by our member, Rabbi Paul Bloom. Paul explains: this piece is written in honor of the sixth yahrzeit of my mother, Gitel Bas Yisraell z’L HaKohen, who has all the traits described by the Kli Yakar.

This week’s parsha, Vayishlach, contains one of the most profound and transformative moments in the Torah. Yaakov wrestles all night with a mysterious figure, described as a malach—an angel. At the end of their struggle, the malach asks Yaakov his name.

“He replied, ‘Jacob.’ But he said, ‘Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel; for you have striven with beings divine and human, and have prevailed.’” (Bereishit 32:28–29)

Some commentators, including Rashi, explain that this angel was the spiritual representative of Esav, Yaakov’s brother and adversary. The struggle was more than physical—it was deeply spiritual, symbolizing the challenges Yaakov would face throughout his life, and the struggles Klal Yisrael would encounter across generations.

What makes this episode so powerful is the bracha Yaakov receives. His name is changed to Yisrael—a word of immeasurable significance and transformative power. The name signifies a new identity and destiny, not only for Yaakov but for his descendants. Let’s delve into the meaning of Yisrael as explained by the Kli Yakar, who offers three profound interpretations of the word and its relevance to us.

1. The Vision of Yisrael: Seeing Beyond

The Kli Yakar suggests that the root of Yisrael is related to the verb shur, meaning to see clearly. This represents the ability to perceive beyond the physical—to see the presence of the Shechinah in the world, even in times of darkness and struggle.

This interpretation connects to Yaakov’s struggle with the malach. As they wrestled, they raised dust that reached the Kisei HaKavod, the heavenly throne. The dust was intended to blind Yaakov, obscuring his vision of holiness. Similarly, our enemies often try to "throw dust in our eyes"—to blind us to the presence of Hashem. But Yisrael symbolizes the ability to see through the dust and recognize Hashem’s hand even amidst adversity.

2. Yisrael as Yashar-El: The Straight Path

The second explanation connects Yisrael to the word yashar, meaning upright, honest, and moral. To be Yisrael means to live with integrity, guided by a divine moral compass.

This yashrut—moral clarity—stems from Torah, which provides a timeless and unshakable value system. Unlike societies that build morality on shifting human ideologies, Klal Yisrael’s values are grounded in the eternal truths of Torah.

3. Yisrael as Sar-El: Leadership and Authority

The third interpretation sees Yisrael as stemming from the word sar, meaning a prince or leader. As Yisrael, Klal Yisrael is destined to serve as a spiritual leader to the world, fulfilling Yeshayahu’s vision:

“Many peoples shall go and say, ‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of Hashem, to the house of the God of Jacob; that He may instruct us in His ways.’” (Yeshayahu 2:3)

This vision is Messianic, promising a future where the nations of the world recognize the truth of Torah and seek guidance from Klal Yisrael.

Yaakov and Yisrael: Two Dimensions of Spirituality

It’s important to note that Yaakov’s name change is not permanent, as was Avram’s transformation into Avraham. Throughout the Torah, Yaakov is sometimes called Yaakov and sometimes Yisrael. Why?

Yaakov represents one aspect of our identity: groundedness in this world. The name Yaakov is linked to eikev—the heel—symbolizing physicality and the challenges of navigating a material existence. In contrast, Yisrael contains the letters li rosh—"I have a head"—signifying transcendence and spiritual aspiration. Together, these names represent the duality of our mission: to remain firmly rooted in this world while striving to connect with the heavens.

The Nesivot Shalom expands on this duality, explaining that Yaakov reflects yirat Hashem—awe and discipline in serving Hashem. Yisrael reflects ahavat Hashem—passion and joy in our connection to Hashem. These two modes, reverence and love, form the foundation of our relationship with the Divine.

The Legacy of Yisrael Today

The name Yisrael carries profound relevance for us as individuals and as a nation. It reminds us that, like Yaakov, we may wrestle with challenges, adversaries, and spiritual struggles. Sometimes the dust clouds our vision, but we must strive to see the presence of Hashem, remain steadfast in our values, and lead with purpose and integrity.

Interestingly, when the modern State of Israel was founded, David Ben-Gurion chose the name Medinat Yisrael. Many other names were proposed—Ivriya or Yehuda—but Yisrael was selected. Perhaps, just as the malach whispered Yaakov’s new name, the same divine inspiration guided this decision, reminding us of our eternal mission and identity.

May we merit to fully embrace the name Yisrael, with its vision, integrity, and leadership, and may it guide us to the ultimate geulah, speedily in our days.

Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah: a Unique Celebration

This year Beit Knesset Hanassi held its first Ne'ilat HaChag, to round off the sequence of festive days that we have just celebrated together. Speaking at the Ne'ilat HaChag, our member Rabbi Paul Bloom treated us to the following thoughts:

The Yom Tov of Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah holds unique significance, blending distinct aspects of joy and spiritual connection. On one hand, Shemini Atzeret is linked to Sukkot but, on the other, it is an independent festival. Over time, the Gedolim (sages) decided to associate Simchat Torah with this holiday, adding an extra layer of meaning.

One of the most beautiful aspects of this celebration is the connection of rejoicing with the Torah. As the Vilna Gaon explains in his commentary on Shir HaShirim (The Song of Songs), the first three verses represent the three pilgrimage festivals (*Shalosh Regalim*), while the fourth verse represents the additional festival—Shemini Atzeret. The verse reads:

מׇשְׁכֵ֖נִי אַחֲרֶ֣יךָ נָּר֑וּצָה הֱבִיאַ֨נִי הַמֶּ֜לֶךְ חֲדָרָ֗יו נָגִ֤ילָה וְנִשְׂמְחָה֙ בָּ֔ךְ  

"Draw me after You, let us run; the King has brought me into His chambers; let us exult and rejoice in You."

This verse describes how the King (Hashem) brings us into His private chamber, allowing us to rejoice directly with Him. This expresses the unique joy of Shemini Atzeret, where the relationship between Hashem and the Jewish people is personal and intimate.

Rashi also emphasizes this distinction in his commentary on the verse in parshat Emor, stating that Shemini Atzeret follows Sukkot, a festival with universal dimensions, where offerings are brought for the nations of the world (Umot HaOlam). In the future, Zechariah tells us, the nations will come to Jerusalem during Sukkot to acknowledge Hashem. However, Shemini Atzeret is about the special, private connection between Hashem and Benei Yisrael.

Interestingly, the Torah Temimah points out that the word "בָּ֔ךְ" ("in You") from the verse in Shir HaShirim has the gematria (numerical value) of 22, which corresponds to the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet—the foundation of the Torah. Our love for Hashem is intimately connected with the Torah, and through these 22 letters, we find joy in our relationship with Him.

The Benei Yissaschar further deepens this concept, noting that Shemini Atzeret always falls on the 22nd day of Tishrei, marking 22 days since Rosh Hashanah. These 22 days are filled with teshuvah (repentance), forgiveness, prayer, and kindness, culminating in the joy of Sukkot and reaching their peak on Shemini Atzeret. This period signifies our journey with Hashem, and through the Torah, we solidify our connection with Him.

An even deeper connection emerges when we consider another set of 22 days: the Three Weeks, which begin on 17 Tammuz and end on Tisha B'Av. These days commemorate the destruction of the two Temples, but the first and most significant destruction was when Moshe shattered the luchot (tablets). Though the tablets were broken, the letters—the divine essence of the Torah—were not lost. They soared, waiting for a new place to reside.

During the Three Weeks, we mourn the loss of this connection, but during the 22 days from Rosh Hashanah to Shemini Atzeret, we work to restore it. The phrase "כָּתְבֵנוּ בְּסֵפֶר הַחַיִּים" ("inscribe us in the Book of Life") reminds us of this restoration. The Torah, described as Etz Chaim (a tree of life), reconnects us with Hashem. By the end of this journey, we rejoice in the ultimate restoration of our bond through the Torah on Shemini Atzeret.

This parallel between the two sets of 22 days, the Three Weeks of mourning and the 22 days of Tishrei, illustrates the cyclical nature of loss and restoration. The culmination comes with Shemini Atzeret, where we experience the joy of holding the Torah, dancing with it, and feeling the profound connection it provides.

Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah represent the pinnacle of our relationship with Hashem. Through the Torah, we deepen our understanding, find infinite joy, and restore what was lost. Let this Yom Tov be a time of reinstating the 22 letters of the Torah into our hearts and minds, renewing our bond with Hashem and experiencing the special joy that comes with it.

Miracles, Teshuvah and the NY Times

This piece, by Hanassi member Rabbi Paul Bloom, was published yesterday in Jewish Link. Thank you, Paul, for letting us republish it here.

On Erev Rosh Hashanah, as households busied themselves with preparations for the three-day holiday, a different sound pierced the air—not the blasts of a shofar, but the wailing of sirens echoing across the country. For nearly an hour, Israelis were urged to take shelter in public and private spaces, or in windowless rooms, as nearly 200 ballistic missiles rained down on Israel from Iran. Miraculously, not one Israeli was seriously harmed. This incredible outcome is a testament to the effectiveness of the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) and, many believe, the protective hand of Hashem. 

Interestingly, a cloud cover shrouded much of the country that day—an unusual occurrence for this time of year, evoking memories of the protective cloud that surrounded the Children of Israel during their journey through the desert, thousands of years ago. 

Many may not fully grasp the magnitude of the miracle that unfolded on Erev Rosh Hashanah. Israel boasts three air defense systems, each a technological marvel designed to intercept missiles at various ranges: Iron Dome, David's Sling, and the Arrow system. That night, as Iranian missiles descended upon Israel, all three defense systems were flawlessly activated and executed, working in perfect unison—a feat so complex that the odds of it happening without a hitch are nearly non-existent. 

Had any one of these systems failed, the consequences could have been catastrophic, with hundreds of Israelis potentially killed or injured. Understanding the intricacies of what transpired that night and throughout the ongoing conflict, it becomes clear that the low number of casualties is akin to witnessing a modern-day miracle—similar to the splitting of the Red Sea thousands of years ago. 

Historically, there have always been those who questioned the miraculous nature of such events, whether during the War of Independence, the Six-Day War, or the Yom Kippur War. Similarly, the events of Erev Rosh Hashanah stand as just one of many miracles experienced over the past year. From the interception of hundreds of missiles and drones before Passover to the incredible  detonation of  thousands of pagers and Walkie Talkies to the successful detonation of crucial targets in enemy bunkers, these instances reflect unprecedented military achievements with remarkably low civilian casualties. 

The sirens that night served not only as a warning to seek shelter but also as a divine call for teshuvah (repentance). As Rabbi Wein emphasized in his 69th consecutive Shabbat Shuvah drasha, teshuvah is a personal journey. A journey  that  starts out  with one  small step. Hashem is looking  for that small step, not the the completion of the entire process. Some reach out to those they may have wronged, while others recognize a greater divine orchestration in the events unfolding around them. The miraculous successes of the IDF can no longer be dismissed as mere coincidence or the product of skillful strategy. 

Yet, there remains a segment of the world that fails to recognize these miracles, including major media outlets like the New York Times. In their coverage of Israel's actions, particularly following the elimination of terrorist leader Nasrallah, the Times framed the operation as an “escalation” while eulogizing a man who sought the destruction of Israel. Such biased reporting does a disservice to the truth and reveals a disturbing tendency to sympathize with those who wish harm upon Israel and the Jewish people. 

As we reflect on the three types of sins we must atone for—between man and Hashem, between man and man, and between man and himself—it's crucial not to overlook the latter. The process of teshuvah may begin with small, deliberate actions. 

In Shaarei Teshuvah (Sha’ar Aleph), Rabbenu Yonah presents a poignant parable about a group of prisoners who were digging a tunnel to escape. As they made their way to freedom, everyone successfully broke free except for one man. When the king's guard discovered him, he began to beat this lone prisoner. The question arises: why was the guard punishing him? 

Various interpretations exist, but one key lesson stands out: this prisoner had the opportunity to escape; he simply chose not to make the effort. His failure to act serves as a powerful metaphor for the teshuvah (repentance) process. Often, all it takes to begin our journey toward repentance is a small, intentional effort. 

This idea also resonates with the story of King Achav (Malachim I), one of Israel's most notorious rulers. When Eliyahu Hanavi questioned why Achav’s teshuvah would never be accepted, the answer was clear: Achav made no genuine effort to change. Had he taken even the slightest  genuine step toward repentance, it would have been recognized and accepted. 

Just like the prisoner and Achav, many of us find ourselves held back by our own reluctance to act. The path to freedom and spiritual growth can often start with a simple decision to make that first effort. 

For those who support platforms that promote anti-Israel sentiments, the decision to disengage from such sources is a simple, yet significant act of teshuvah. Excuses for maintaining subscriptions or advertising in biased media outlets do not hold water; the time has come to seek alternatives that align more closely with our values. 

This Yom Kippur, may we all come to recognize the miracles that Hashem has performed for the Jewish people over the past year. Let us take those small steps toward teshuvah, collectively accelerating the journey towards our final  redemption.

BKH goes to Habayta

Habayta is an organization for new and old immigrants alike.  In terms of Jewish and Israeli identity, Habayta seeks to create a broad and spectacular social mosaic. In doing so, it strives to create a meaningful community experience for olim that will strengthen their sense of identity and belonging, shedding light on their path to becoming part of the Israeli story while still preserving their own unique cultural voice.

Last week Beit Knesset Hanassi participated in the Habayta conference which was held in nearby Heichel Shlomo. This event, which attracted over 250 people, offered sessions in Hebrew, Russian, Spanish and Portuguese and its focus was on how to accept olim, especially in this time of war. The impressive cast of speakers included Minister for Aliyah and Integration Ofir Soffer, MK Oded Forer, Rabbi Leo Dee and Rachelle Fraenkel, among many others.

Habayta offers a variety programs from which members of the shul may benefit. You can find them on the Habayta website at https://habayta.org.il/en/.

Thank you, Paul Bloom, for contributing this item.