Parshat Vayeitze: Jacob's Ladder

Our third patriarch, Ya'akov (Jacob), has always been my favorite.  No matter how one approaches the Torah he is a fascinating character.  His surface actions, the family drama, his wives as sisters, the mystery hidden behind it all.  He is the (grand)son of the "first Jew" and the father of the twelve tribes of Israel.  In all the detail we have about him, this week's parsha, Vayeitze, contains one of my favorite visuals:

And he (Jacob) dreamed, and behold, a ladder set upon the earth and the top of it reached to heaven.  And behold, the angels of God were ascending and descending on it.  And, behold, the Lord stood beside him and said, I am the Lord, the God of Abraham thy father, and the God of Isaac.  The land whereon though liest, to thee will I give it, and to thy seed.  And thy seed shall be as the dust of the earth, and thou shalt spread out to the west and the East, and to the north and the south.  And in thee and in thy seed shall all the families of the earth be blessed.  And, behold, I am with thee, and I will keep thee wherever though shalt go, and will bring thee back into this land; for I will not leave thee, until I have done that which I have spoken to thee of.

And Jacob awakened out of his sleep, and he said, Surely the Lord is in this place; and I knew it not!  And he was afraid, and said: How full of awe is this place!  This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven."  (Bereishit 28:12-17)

The innermost chamber of Jacob's soul seems to have been released; it pulsates through his being - body, mind, and soul - giving him the ability to see and feel a deeper reality than the physical one in which we live.  According to some sages this vision is one of ideal prayer, which has the ability to raise us to the heavens for a time before settling us back in our earthly reality.  "Prayer is the utmost.  Without God in sight, we are like the scattered rungs of a broken ladder.  To pray is to become a ladder on which thoughts mount to God to join the movement toward God which surges unnoticed throughout the entire universe" (Heschel, Man's Quest for God, 7).  It is this 'unnoticed' force that suddenly and unexpectedly hit Jacob.  The Lord is in this place, and I knew it not!  Jacob, our forefather, the man who emanates tiferet (spiritual beauty, the combination of loving-kindness and justice; see here) didn't realize God's presence.  Yes, of course he knew of God through his family, he understood his existence and lived his life in awe and fear of God.  It was finally here as a grown man, that Ya'akov actually felt the presence of God in the world.  How often do we, too, go through life knowing something, believing something, but without taking time to feel it?  Or how often do we focus too much on a lack of belief, the ridiculousness of belief, that any chance to feel is sacrificed?  Those overwhelming, precious moments are often quick, few and far between, but they can hit in the most unexpected circumstances as they did with Jacob.

[As an aside, it is interesting to note that Jacob may have been the first person to have an experience that millions upon millions have since experienced: that of being at the Kotel/Western Wall.  Of course the Wall wasn't there at the time, but that is where Jacob was - the site of the future Temple in Jerusalem.  The innate holiness of the place was not created by the Temple being built; it was much older.]

 And, our Sages ask, why is it that the angels are ascending and descending?  Don't they start in heaven, in which case they would be descending and ascending?  To Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, we are the angels in Jacob's vision.  "Prayer is a ladder and we are the angels."  We, like the angels, can reach the gate of heaven.  We can reach spiritual heights that take us there.  But we also start with our feet on the ground.  Our aspiration is to rise up, to stretch upward and experience moments where we feel as if we are in the heavens.  Perhaps in these moments we really are in the heavens, spiritually.

Yet the ladder is not just a route to heaven, but also a route to earth.  This is a circular ladder and those upon it are in continuous motion (Ibn Ezra).  Angels of God were ascending and descending on it.  Or, perhaps, the ladder is not a route to both, but rather represents the length at which a human can be stretched.  "Our feet touch the earth because we are undeniably human and should have no illusions that our spirituality will separate us from all beauty and suffering our humanity brings.  But, without negating for an instant the realities of our humanness, each of us is endowed with the gift of spirit, so that we can climb the ladder of the soul to reach its heavenly heights" (Alan Morris, Climbing Jacob's Ladder, 24-5).

And we must not forget: no matter where we are on the ladder -- high or low, ascending or descending -- God is beside us (Bereishit 28:13).  Where is God?  Wherever you let Him in (Kotzker Rebbe).  He is always waiting.

Parshat Toldot: Valuing Our Blessings

As is common in the book of Bereishit, we have another sibling rival begin in the weekly parsha, Toldot, between Ya'akov and Eisav (Jacob and Esau).  The differences between them are many, both on a physical and spiritual level.  And the differences are not just based on how these two figures morphed into characters in Jewish tradition, through the mouths and minds of our sages and midrashic authors.  Yitchak and Rivka (Isaac and Rebecca), the parents of these twins, are expanded upon in Jewish tradition but the Torah itself has relatively little to say about them.  Ya'akov (and Eisav), however, have much more ink devoted to them in the Torah itself.  I think this is important for many reasons, the first being the God Himself found everything in the Torah to be worthy of being put to paper.  Additionally, Ya'akov is the first person to have all monotheistic (Jewish) offspring - a key aspect to all generations of Jews.  He is also able to embody the greatest elements of his father and grandfather, gevurah (strength/judgement) and chessed (kindness).  Ya'akov is associated with the attribute of tiferet (beauty), the union of gevurah and chessed.

In this week's parsha, Toldot, we are introduced to Ya'akov and learn a lot about him through his rivalry with his twin brother, Eisav, and the way he interacts with his mother and father.  What I would like to focus on is the different values of Ya'akov and Eisav as seen through how they value the blessings of their father.

In the first few verses of the Torah portion, Rebecca feels pain from the twins struggling in her womb and she asked God about it.  God responded with a prophecy for Rebecca: 

Two nations are in your womb, two separate peoples shall issue from your body; one people shall be mightier than the other, and the older shall serve the younger. (Bereishit 25:23)

It is not until the end of the portion that this prophecy comes to fruition, when Rebecca takes action to ensure that the younger son gets his father's blessing (which was supposed to be reserved for the firstborn Eisav).  In the meantime, however, we learn about the birthright of the firstborn, which Eisav sells to Ya'akov for a bowl of soup.  It is often translated that he bought it because he was "hungry" or "famished" but the Hebrew - ayeif - also means "tired."  He sold his birthright for a bowl of soup because he was too lazy to prepare something for himself.  According to the Midrash HaGadol, it was also not just any bowl of lentils -- it was food that  Ya'akov was preparing for his father, Yitchak, who was mourning the death of Avraham.  It was this bowl that Eisav greedily asked for, and Ya'akov reluctantly sold for the birthright and then prepared another for his father.   

Eisav cried out (25:32): 'Why do I need the birthright?!'  

The Heavenly Voice echoed: '...Why do you need the blessing?'  (Midrash HaGadol 25:32)

The disregard, the lack of value, which Eisav showed to the birthright is contrasted very strongly with the importance it had to Ya'akov.  The birthright was the right (and obligation) of the firstborn to look after his family -- his parents when they were old, his siblings when needed -- and carry on the family name in good standing.  But Ya'akov was the one in the home, consoling his mother and father, not Eisav.

At the end of the parsha, however, the situation is quite a bit different.  Eisav does not give up his father's blessing; rather, Rebecca and Ya'akov deceive the now-blind Yitchak into giving it to Ya'akov.  So Yitchak blesses Ya'akov:

May God give you of the dew of heaven and the fat of the earth; abundance of new grain and wine.  Let peoples serve you, and nations bow to you.  Be master over your brother, and let your mother's sons bow to you.  Cursed by they who curse you, blessed be they who bless you. (27:28-9)

And with that, Rebecca's prophecy from the beginning of the parsha comes true.   But Eisav does not respond with the same "who cares" towards losing the blessing as he did when he sold the birthright.  [Note that many commentators do recreate Eisav's words as of an evil nature; I do not think this is the natural reading from the text itself.]

'Bless me, even also me, my Father!' he cries (27:34).  'Is he not rightly named Jacob, for he hath supplanted me these two times: he took away my birthright and behold, now he hath taken away my blessing...!'  Hast thou not reserved a blessing for me?!' (27:36).  And when Yitchak does not seem to have reserved a blessing, Eisav weeps (Midrash Tanchuma 2): 'Hast thou but one blessing, my Father?  Bless me, even also me, my Father!' (27:38)

Yitzchak does indeed have a blessing that he gives to his elder son.  But what I think is more important is the sense of despair we can sense in Eisav when he realizes that he has lost what was his.  We hear the echo of the Heavenly Voice...Why do you need the blessing?...and realize that it was a culmination of Eisav's past actions and slighting of the birthright that led to the blessing being taken from him.  It was not so much stolen as lost; Ya'akov and Rebecca didn't take it out of spite for him and greediness for themselves.  Rather it was because Eisav did not deserve it and Ya'akov had proved he did deserve it.  Yet I can still sympathize with Eisav in this moment.  Only when he has lost everything does he realize how valuable it was.  Like Adam and Chava in Gan Eden (the Garden of Eden), only once they ate from the forbidden tree did they realize how precious the life they had truly was.

This is something we can all conceptually understand but it is hard to really implement in our lives: we know the most important things in our lives, what is the "right" or "best" way to live.  We know that family and religion and friends are the highest priority in our life.  But during our day-to-day lives it is not so easy to always make choices that reflect what we know is ultimately the way we should be.  Work and school get in the way; we let our temper overtake us too often, get annoyed by those who only mean well.  Ya'akov, however, (like his grandmother Sarah),was always focused on the blessing in his life - his family and God.  Even when he later was manipulated into seven extra years of servitude to Lavan in order to marry Rachel he did so without complaint.  He focused on the blessings in his life, and those to come in the future.  For this reason Ya'akov was deemed worthy of the birthright and the blessing.

As an addition this week: in honor of this 17th yartzeit (anniversary of his death), I'd like to mention Reb Shlomo Carlebach.  He was another, more recent, figure that embodies a Ya'akov-like person.  He emanated inner tiferet, beauty.  His spirit and energy brought so many people closer to God; lifted up so many souls that were down.  'His message was Torah and his vehicle was music,' his daughter said.  His music transformed the Jewish world and helped bring thousands upon thousands of Jews closer to Judaism.  His reach didn't end there, though.  Hundreds upon hundreds of homeless people crowded the streets of New York for his funeral, showing their respects to someone who made their lives meaningful when most people wouldn't even spare them a second glance.  In the words of his other daughter, he showed that "it wasn't just the religion, Judaism was everything, God was everything.  And by allowing God into your life you allow yourself to open up."  The starting point is Shabbat: Mizmor Shir l'Yom haShabbat.

Parshat Chayai Sarah

Rather ironically, what I found most interesting in this week's parsha, Chayai Sarah - the Life of Sarah, was the related commentary about Hagar...Avraham's "other" wife, the mother of Ishmael, and Sarah's former maidservant. 

I know admittedly little about her, and quite frankly, she is not a huge focus of the Jewish tradition.  She is mostly known today as the "mother of the Arabs."  In other words, not exactly someone to be associated with positive things.  But after Sarah's death she returns to Avraham's life. 

Then Avraham again took a wife and her name was Ketura.  (Midrash HaGadol 25:1)

And the sages tell us that Ketura is Hagar.  Sarai and Avram were not the only biblical figures who merited a name change.  Hagar became Ketura after she was expelled from Sarah and Avraham's house because, according to Pirkei d'Rav Eliezer:

1. She had refrained from being with other men after leaving Avraham (the root of her new name, koof-tet-reish, is also the root for lock, as in "she locked herself up")
2. Her deeds became as sweet as incense, ketoret.

What is most interesting, however, is how Ketura and Avraham were reunited. 

"And Isaac came from coming."  And where did he go?  To the well of the living One who sees me he went, to bring Hagar, the one who was sitting near the wel and said the One who lives forever has seen my shame.  (Genesis Rabah, 70)

It appears, according to at least one interpretation of this verse, that the well is the one which Hagar found in the desert after fleeing from Sarah's house.  Isaac went to bring Hagar back to his father to atone for his mother, Sarah's, wrong treatment of Hagar when she threw her out of the house she had lived in for so long.  I think that these teaching from our sages have a very important impact on us today.  They show that even our non-predecessors (non-Jews) have good traits that we should admire and recognize.  They also show that even our most vaunted forefathers and mothers (as in this case) did in fact make mistakes; we should not rationalize away or ignore these mistakes but recognize them as such and learn from them as Isaac and our Sages did.

Parshat Vayeira

My initial reading of this week’s parsha, Vayeira, left me with a weird feeling based on some intriguing similarities to Lech Lecha, last week’s Torah portion.  Could it be that Avraham, our great forefather, the founder of monotheism, had areas of weakness where we can learn as much from his mistakes as his virtues?  Here are the three big similarities between the two Torah portions:

1. Sarah and Avraham tell people they are brother and sister, resulting in a king “taking Sarah” – Pharaoh last week, Avimelech this week.  Why didn’t Avraham learn from last week?
2. Avraham has a cattle/land/water dispute – first with Lot and now with Avimelech.  Is he careless in doing business with others?
3. Avraham saves his nephew, Lot.  This is a virtuous act both times, no doubt about it, showing loyalty and care for others. 

The majority of our tradition explains and rationalizes any seeming faults in Avraham’s behavior; but this is not satisfactory for me this week.  Last week is understandable: Pharaoh and Egypt represent a lot of impurity and immorality.  I can reasonably believe that Avraham was the better man, he was the man in the right and Pharaoh was running a corrupt society, with he himself leading the immoral actions that people there committed.  But this week is different: in Vayeira, Avraham is not dealing with Pharaoh or Egyptians, but with Avimelech of Gerar – the king of a land that seems to be just and righteous  - the land in which Avraham will raise Isaac.  So why, again, does Avraham call Sarah his sister so that she is, again, the object of a king’s affection?  (As an aside, I'm guessing Sarah didn't wear a hair covering because that would've made it obvious she was married.)

I struggled to understand this, and I was not able to dig up a lot of comparisons between the two parshiyot.  But I did come across some comments of the Ramban, who (alone among the great Torah geniuses we study today) has same very harsh woods about Avraham.  In Lech Lecha, he comments on the following verse:

If the Egyptians see you and think “she is his wife,” they will kill me and let you live.  Please say that you are my sister, that it may go well with me because of you, and that I may remain alive on your behalf.  (Genesis 12:12-13)

Ramban: Know that our father Avraham sinned grievously, albeit inadvertently, in placing a sinful obstacle in the path of his virtuous wife because he feared for his life….  He should have trusted in the Lord….  Also, his departure from the land (of Canaan) because of the famine was a sin [because God didn’t command it] and therefore it was decreed that his descendents would be exiled to Egypt by Pharaoh.”

According to the Ramban, Avraham made two big mistakes: leaving Canaan, where God had led him to; and putting his wife in an awful situation.  So what does the Ramban say when the incident with Sarah happens a second time:

Avraham said of Sarah his wife, “she is my sister.”  So King Avimelech of Gerar had Sarah brought to him. (Genesis 20:2)

Ramban: [Avimelech was] innocent and just and his people as well are good, but Avraham suspected them and would say to everyone ‘She is my sister.’

According to Ramban, Avraham doesn’t pay attention to his moral surroundings but suspects everyone to be as lowly as the Egyptian culture.  But the Torah text itself does not appear demeaning of Avimelech.  He did nothing wrong.  And not just did he do nothing wrong, he was a man who knew God.  God came to him in a dream to tell him of his sin and pending death for taking a married woman.  Avimelech replies to this claim: O Lord, will You slay people even though innocent?  He [Avraham] said to me ‘She is my sister!’  And she also said, ‘He is my brother.’  When I did this, my heart was blameless and my hands were clean.”  And God agrees that he was innocent!  Avimelech is not an immoral, sexual monster without regard for a woman’s well-being.  As Keren Yishai points out the text says that “Avimelech arose early in the morning” to return Sarah to her husband…just as Avraham “arose early in the morning” to sacrifice his son Isaac, to God.  Just as Avraham wanted to do God’s will as quickly as possible, so did Avimelech want to do what was right in the eyes of God with haste. 

But where does this leave us?  What do we make of Avraham’s actions?  Or, maybe, we are putting too much emphasis on Avraham.  Sarah is also an integral character.

Immediately after the story with Avimelech concludes, we read:

The Lord took note of Sarah as He had promised, and the Lord did for sarah as He had spoken.  Sarah conceived and bore a son to Avraham in his old age, at the set time of which God has spoken….  Sarah said, ‘God has brought me laughter; everyone who hears will laugh with me.’ And she added, ‘Who would have said to Avraham that Sarah would suckle children! Yet I have borne a son in old age.’ (Genesis 21: 1-2, 6-7)

God gave Avraham ten tests, the final one being to sacrifice Isaac.  Could it be that Sarah, our foremother, also had her faith tested?  Could it be that one (or two) of her tests was how she dealt with being in the house of Pharaoh and Avimelech, in danger of committing adultery? 

I am not aware of this stance being taken by any Torah commentaries, but I would like to propose that it was not just Avraham that was tested before being granted a son through which the Jewish nation would begin.  After all, Avraham alone could not father and raise the would-be Isaac.  An equally faithful, upright, smart and caring woman was needed.  Sarah too was tested: being uprooted from her homeland, her generosity in preparing for guests, the pain of seeing her maidservant give birth to her husband’s child, the fright of being taken to the houses or Pharaoh and Avimelech.  Sarah and Avraham both needed a superhuman amount of internal strength to live through the ups and downs that God dealt them.  We, the Jewish people of today, do not come solely from an extraordinary man but also from an extraordinary woman. 

Good Shabbas Everyone!

And for the most mind-blowingly awesome discourse ever (literally!!), see this awesome essay that takes a different route in understanding why Avraham said “she is my sister” in both of the last two Torah portions. 

Parshat Lech Lecha

This week's parsha, like most of Bereshit (Genesis), is pack with action.  We emerged from creation, the fall of mankind, the flood and Noah's ark the last two weeks...and this week we become acquainted with Avraham and Sarah (or Abram and Sarai, as they are called for most of the Torah reading).  What I would like to focus on is Avraham and Sarah.  There was a very interesting discourse on their sorrows and joys in this weeks parasha that fascinated me. 

Rabbi Reuven Wolf gave a great sermon, which concludes with a comparison of Avraham and Sarah to body and soul.  What struck me was who was the body and who the soul.  As we have all heard before, men are more bodily, easily susceptible to physicality and immediate desires.  Women are more spiritual and able to focus on the larger picture.  For Avraham and Sarah, this is not the case, says Rabbi Wolf.  Avraham represents someone whose neshama is guiding their life; Sarah on the other hand is leading a life led by her body.  But for Rabbi Wolf the concept of leading a life more guided by "body" or "soul" is different than our normal understanding:

Living a neshama-centric life is certainly a life lived for God.  A life dedicated to Torah study, secluded from physical work and the surrounding world, can definitely be very rewarding!  But it is not a life that can elevate our world.  Only a life where we live with and through nature, where we understand our physical selves, can elevate the world.  A mitzvah isn't a miracle - it is an act of elevating the physical through natural means.  And as Jews we are meant to elevate our world; to put holiness into the mundane.  We have to guide our neshama with our body.  Yes, we should certainly give our neshama it's time of day -- we must daven and observe Shabbat and keep kosher.  We must do these things to avoid being overtaken by our physical selves and completely disregarding our soul.  We are, however, physically on earth to elevate the physical aspects of our world.  Our neshama must work through our body, not control our body.  We must be immersed in the material world, but always keep God on our mind - and observe God's commandments.  This is the ideal life.  This is how Sarah lived. Nonetheless, she needs an Abraham to reminder her of the importance of the neshama.  The soul and body are meant to be compliments, but the body has more potential for us to fulfill our duty in this world.