|
PARASHAT
VAYEITZEI
By Rav
David Silverberg
Parashat Vayeitzei tells the story of Yaakov’s experiences in the house
of Lavan, his father-in-law and employer, and his ultimate escape from Lavan’s
service. Rav Matis Blum, in his
work Torah La-da’at – Ba-kodesh
Chazitikha, notes a
number of intriguing parallels between this episode and the story of the Exodus
from Egypt. For one thing, as noted already by the
Ba’al Ha-turim, the
Torah’s description of Yaakov’s escape – “ki varach” (31:22)
– appears only in one other instance in the Torah, in the context of Benei
Yisrael’s departure
from Egypt (Shemot 14:5). Moreover, Lavan learns of Yaakov’s
escape on the third day after he left (31:22), and, at least according to the
plain reading of the narrative, he caught up to Yaakov on the seventh day
(“derekh shiv’at yamim” – 31:23).
This brings to mind Pharaoh’s pursuit of Benei Yisrael, which, according to Midrashic tradition,
began on the third day after the Exodus and culminated with the splitting of the
Yam Suf on the seventh day. Additionally, Yaakov’s escape route led
him across a river (31:21), which might parallel his descendants’ crossing of
the sea after the Exodus.
Rav Blum
even finds a halakhic parallel of sorts between these two escapes. Yaakov and Lavan ultimately make a pact
promising that neither party will cross the designated boundary at Gilead to harm the other (31:52). Rashi comments that this agreement came
with a provision allowing the parties to cross the boundary for commercial
purposes. This brings to mind the
prohibition against Benei Yisrael’s return
to Egypt, regarding which an exception is made for commercial trips (see Rambam,
Hilkhot Melakhim 5:8).
We might
add that Rachel’s seizing of Lavan’s terafim
(idolatrous articles – 31:19) perhaps correspond with the destruction the
Almighty brought upon the idols of Egypt on the night of the Exodus (Bamidbar
33:4). In both instances, not only
was the oppressor defeated, but his pagan beliefs were discredited and put to
shame, as well.
These
parallels reinforce the notion of Yaakov’s tribulations serving as a model and
precursor of his descendants’ future experiences in exile. His travails and eventual return to
Canaan demonstrate to Benei
Yisrael the temporary
nature of exile. It reminds us that
despite how geographically far we are driven from our homeland, the possibility
of return always remains. The
grueling hardships and national isolation Am Yisrael experiences in exile
ultimately come to end, as the nation, like Yaakov, eventually escape from their
oppressors and return to their homeland.
******
Toward the beginning of Parashat Vayeitzei, we read of Yaakov’s famous
dream which he beheld as he slept along the way to Charan. Yaakov saw a vision of angels ascending
and descending a ladder that extended to the heavens, and heard God speak to him
and make a number of promises, including offspring, his descendants’ possession
of Eretz Yisrael, and personal
protection.
Commenting on this vision, the Gemara in Masekhet Chulin (91b) writes
that the angels in Yaakov’s dream ascended to the heavens, where they beheld
Yaakov’s heavenly “image.” They
then returned to earth, and looked upon Yaakov’s earthly appearance, at which
point they sought to cause him harm.
God immediately intervened to protect Yaakov from these potentially
destructive angels.
The Yalkut Eliezer explains
this dream as symbolic of the constant and complex pendulum that a righteous
person rides in his quest for spiritual greatness. The realities of human life require the
tzadik to
vacillate between his “heavenly” and “earthly” images. The angels in Yaakov’s dream represent
Yaakov himself, his ongoing ascent to and descent from his heavenly image, the
spiritual ideal which he seeks. As
a human being, the tzadik, too,
must frequently “descend” to tend to his more mundane needs, to care for his
physical well-being and secure a livelihood. But whereas most of us position
ourselves permanently in the ground, and only make occasional visits to the
heavens, the angels of the righteous are in constant motion, ascending back to
the heavens the moment they have completed their responsibilities to their
“earthly image.”
The angels’ efforts to harm Yaakov, the Yalkut Eliezer
explains, symbolize the difficulty entailed in a life characterized by
“ascending and descending.” It
would be far simpler to just remain in the heavens without ever “descending” to
the world of mundane life. The
frequent descents could potentially harm the tzadikim and
sabotage their efforts to achieve greatness. However, as in Yaakov’s dream, God
stands by the sincerely righteous and protects them from the spiritual dangers
that lurk at the foot of the ladder, and the temptation to remain there rather
than returning heavenward. He
ensures that the “descent” does not undermine the tzadik’s efforts to constantly rise to
greater heights, and that the time invested tending to the “earthly image” will
only lead to a more refined “heavenly image,” and extend the ladder higher and
higher into the heavens.
*******
Rashi, in his commentary to Parashat Vayeitzei (28:11), cites the famous
comment in the Gemara (Chulin 91b) concerning the stone upon which Yaakov slept
as he made his way to Charan. The
Gemara tells that Yaakov collected a number of rocks upon which to sleep, but
the stones began quarreling with one another, each demanding the privilege of
having Yaakov rest his head directly upon it. Ultimately, the rocks merged together
into a single stone, such that Yaakov’s head effectively rested upon all the
stones.
What message might this image of the merging stones seek to
convey?
One possibility, perhaps, is that Chazal here express one of the
important functions of religious leadership, namely, to settle disputes and
maintain peace and harmony among the constituents. The image of the quarreling rocks under
Yaakov’s head may perhaps allude to the strife and controversy that has often
plagued our communities and institutions.
The effective leader is capable of diffusing controversy and unifying
those under his charge into a cohesive group. Instead of each individual vying for
personal prominence, they all, under the influence and guidance of the leader,
join together to form a single – albeit complex and multifaceted –
community. (See Rav Dov
Weinberger’s Shemen Ha-tov, which explains along similar
lines.)
Later, Yaakov arrives at a well
outside Charan where he encounters three herds of sheep with their
shepherds. The shepherds explained
to Yaakov that they were waiting for all the herds to assemble so that the
shepherds can together remove the large stone that covered the well; until all
the shepherds gathered, they were unable to push the stone off the mouth of the
well. The Ramban (29:2-3) cites a
passage in the Midrash which explains this episode as symbolic of aliya
le-regel, the nationwide pilgrimage to the Beit Ha-mikdash on Pesach,
Shavuot and Sukkot. The three herds
represent the three pilgrimage festivals, and the well is symbolic of the
Temple, which
gave forth the life-giving waters of sanctity and spirituality. We might add that the well was capable of
giving forth this water only when all the shepherds assembled together and
joined efforts to access the water.
One of the roles of the Beit Ha-mikdash – like the role of
religious leaders – is to unify the people and bring all members of the nation
together in the service of the Almighty.
It required that all the various segments of the population work together
to access its “water,” the kedusha and inspiration that the Temple was intended to
provide. Indeed, once the Mikdash ceased functioning as a unifying force, and
became instead a source of contention and envy, it was taken from the Jewish
people. Its restoration thus
depends upon the efforts of all the “herds” to gather together in peace and
unity, to put our differences aside and work together in a sincere desire to
once again access the sacred “waters” of the Shekhina.
*******
A famous passage in Masekhet Berakhot (26b) establishes (according to one
view) that Yaakov instituted the nightly arvit prayer service, as he made
his way from Be’er Sheva to Charan to flee from his brother. The Torah in Parashat Vayeitze (28:11)
relates that as Yaakov traveled, “He came upon a place and slept there”
(“Va-yifga ba-makom va-yalen sham”). The Gemara demonstrates that the verb
p.g.a. can also refer to prayer, such that this verse may be understood
to mean that Yaakov prayed before sleeping.
Tosefot question the Gemara’s comments in light of a different Talmudic
passage, in Masekhet Chulin (91b).
The Gemara there interprets the opening verses of Parashat Vayetze to
mean that Yaakov traveled to Charan twice.
When Yaakov first arrived in Charan, he realized that he had passed by
the site of the future Mikdash, where his father and grandfather had
prayed, and he felt that he, too, should pray at that site. He therefore returned to the site of the
Mikdash and prayed there, as indicated by the
phrase “va-yifga ba-makom.”
Yaakov then prepared to return to Charan, but God had the sun set early
so that Yaakov would sleep at this holy site.
As Tosefot note, it emerges clearly from this description of the events
that Yaakov prayed during the daytime, before sundown. How, then could the Gemara infer from
this episode that Yaakov established the nighttime arvit
service?
Tosefot
answer by concluding that this Gemara perhaps presumes the position of Rabbi
Yehuda, cited in the Mishna (Berakhot 4:1), that the time for arvit begins before sundown, at the point
of pelag ha-mincha. Whereas
the majority position maintains that the halakhic day ends at sundown, such that
one may recite mincha until sunset and at that point the time for
arvit begins, Rabbi Yehuda
holds that the day ends at pelag
ha-mincha. Tosefot thus suggest that the Gemara’s
comment regarding Yaakov instituting arvit reflects Rabbi Yehuda’s position, for, as
we saw, he recited this prayer before sundown. In fact, Tosefot view this Gemara as
evidence that Halakha follows Rabbi Yehuda’s view, according to
which one may recite arvit already at pelag ha-mincha.
The Penei Yehoshua refutes
Tosefot’s argument, claiming that Yaakov in fact recited two prayers –
mincha and
arvit. Indeed, the Penei Yehoshua writes, the Gemara in Chulin clearly speaks
of Yaakov praying before sundown, but the Gemara there refers to his recitation
of mincha.
However, when the Torah writes, “va-yifga ba-makom,” it refers to the prayer he recited after
God brought nightfall to the region, as indicated by the next clause in the
verse: “…he slept there because the sun had set.” The Penei Yehoshua claims
that the phrase “because the sun had set” modifies not only “he slept there,”
but also the first segment of the verse – “va-yifga ba-makom” – and thus
the Torah refers to the prayer he recited after the sun had set. The Gemara in Berakhot thus legitimately
cites this verse as the source for the premise that Yaakov instituted the
arvit service.
As mentioned earlier, however, the Gemara in Chulin cites the phrase
“va-yifga ba-makom” in reference to Yaakov’s pre-dusk prayer, which
clearly implies that he prayed only before sundown, and not
after.
*******
Parashat Vayetze tells the story of Yaakov’s experiences in Charan, where
he lives for twenty years while escaping the vengeance of his brother. Yaakov’s life changes drastically upon
arriving in Charan. After having
spent his early years as “a simple man, a tent dweller” (25:27), which
Chazal explain as a reference to devoted Torah study, Yaakov now spends
twenty years begetting and raising children, and amassing a fortune working for
his uncle and father-in-law, Lavan.
Yaakov left the world of serene and focused learning, and now finds
himself with a large family and an ever growing commercial
enterprise.
When considering this transition in Yaakov’s life which occurs over the
course of Parashat Vayetze, it is worth noting the theme of angelic revelation
that brackets this parasha.
At the beginning of this parasha, we read of Yaakov’s famous dream of angels
ascending and descending a ladder that extended to the heavens. The parasha concludes with
Yaakov’s safe and ultimately peaceful departure from his uncle, whereupon he
once again encounters angels: “And Yaakov went along his way, and angels of God
came upon him…” (32:1).
Interestingly enough, the story of Yaakov’s experiences in Charan ends
the same way it began: with the revelation of
angels.
The Rosh Yeshiva, HaRav Aharon Lichtenstein shelit”a (as
recorded by a student – http://vbm-torah.org/archive/sichot67/07-67vayetze.htm),
suggested that these two revelations might point to the spiritual consistency
Yaakov maintained despite the fundamental changes his life underwent. Yaakov lived in the world of dreams and
ideals during his youthful, bachelor years – and he succeeded in maintaining
that idealistic energy and spirit throughout the twenty years he spend as a
father of twelve young children and hard-working shepherd. As Rav Lichtenstein
commented:
Nevertheless,
even at the end of the parasha, Yaakov
has not lost his ability to see angels… Yaakov held onto his dreams even after
maturing, marrying and accepting the burden of providing for a family. He retained his religious personality
even in the face of his new life and new responsibilities. Yaakov Avinu overcame the tremendous
challenge of maintaining his ability to dream and maintaining the proper
perspective throughout his trials and tribulations. Therefore, Yaakov met angels when he
left Charan.
Rav
Lichtenstein added that every Torah Jew must take example from our patriarch and
never allow the harsh, complex realities of life dull his spiritual senses and
lead him to compromise his idealism and aspirations:
This
challenge confronts each of us, as well.
As we accumulate responsibilities, we too must retain our ability to see
angels. Moving towards a more
practically-oriented life must not blind our focus on Torah and avodat Hashem… The burdens of providing for one’s
family shouldn’t break one’s dreams.
Like Yaakov, every individual must
sustain the “dreams” and idealism of youth even while confronting the
less-than-ideal realities of adulthood, and ensure that the “angels” remain with
him all throughout, at every stage along the journey through
life.
******
The opening section of Parashat Vayetze describes Yaakov’s famous vision
in which he beheld angels ascending and descending a ladder that extended from
the ground to the heavens. Rashi
comments that Yaakov, who was making his way from Be’er Sheva to his uncle’s
home in Charan, saw the protecting angels of Eretz Yisrael returning to
the heavens, while the angels assigned over areas outside Eretz
Yisrael descended from the
heavens. This vision thus signified
the transition from the care of one group of angels to
another.
Of course, the concept of angels accompanying a person and protecting him
touches upon the general topic of “angels” in Jewish thought, and what precisely
Chazal had in
mind when they spoke of these beings.
Without delving into this issue, it is worth noting that the notion of
angels accompanying a person to offer protection arises, surprisingly enough,
even in a halakhic context, as discussed toward the very beginning of
the Shulchan Arukh (O.C.
3:1). Based on the Gemara’s comment
in Masekhet Berakhot (60b), the Shulchan Arukh mentions
that before one uses the restroom, he should declare, “Be honored, O sacred
honored ones, ministers of the Supreme One! Protect me, protect me; assist me,
assist me; wait for me until I enter and leave, for this is the way of human
beings.” As Rashi explains in his
commentary to the Gemara, this declaration of “Hitkabedu mekhubadim” is
addressed to the angels that accompany a person at all times to protect
him. The angels do not enter the
restroom, and therefore the individual must ask that they wait for him while he
performs his bodily functions, and offer protection from outside the
restroom.
After codifying this halakha, the Shulchan Arukh adds, “But
now we are not accustomed to reciting it.”
The Mishna Berura explains (based on Rav Yosef Karo’s own comments
in Beit Yosef), “…because we are not presumed to be God-fearing [to the
extent that] angels accompany us, such that we should ask them to wait for us
until we leave.” This recitation is
built on the assumption that angels accompany a person, thus necessitating a
special request that they wait outside as he uses the restroom. Nowadays, we cannot assume that we are
worthy of angelic protection, and we therefore no longer recite this declaration
before using the restroom. (See
Sha’arei Teshuva who cites some authorities who require reciting it even
nowadays, but suggests that these sources refer only to the exceptionally
pious.)
Some Acharonim raised the question of whether this custom not to
recite “Hitkabedu mekhubadim” might perhaps conflict with the
widespread custom to welcome the accompanying angels on the night of Shabbat,
through the singing of “Shalom Aleikhem.” This practice is based upon the Gemara’s
comment in Masekhet Shabbat (119b) that two special angels accompany a person
home from the synagogue on Shabbat eve.
If we sing “Shalom Aleikhem” to greet the angels, then apparently
we are, indeed, worthy of angelic accompaniment, even nowadays. How might we reconcile this practice
with the custom not to recite “Hitkabedu
mekhubadim” before using the
restroom? Indeed, it is reported
that the Chatam Sofer did not recite “Shalom Aleikhem” for this
reason.
Others, however, distinguished between the notion of angels accompanying
a person on leil Shabbat and the
recitation of “Hitkabedu mekhubadim” before
using the restroom. The Arukh Ha-shulchan
suggested that we do, in fact, accept the concept of angelic accompaniment even
nowadays. Nevertheless, we refrain
from reciting “Hitkabedu mekhubadim” because
we do not presume to be on the level where we can make requests of our
accompanying angels, such as asking them to wait while we use the restroom. The Ben Ish Chai, in his
work Od Yosef Chai
(Parashat Vayera),
explains differently, distinguishing between the various roles served by
angels. We refrain from reciting
“Hitkabedu mekhubadim” because we do not presume we are worthy of
protective angels. On Shabbat eve,
however, angels accompany us to give honor to Shabbat (the Ben Ish Chai mentions here specifically the special
mitzva of kiddush), and not for personal protection. Thus, even though we do not recite
“Hitkabedu mekhubadim,” we nevertheless welcome angels into our
home on Shabbat eve, as they have come to give honor to the sacred occasion of
Shabbat.
******
Parashat Vayetze tells of the birth of Yaakov’s children (with the
exception of Binyamin, whose birth is reported in Parashat Vayishlach), and
provides as well the reason behind each child’s name (with the exception of
Dina, whose name is not explained in the Torah). We read that Rachel and Leah made some
kind of declaration upon the birth of each child, and they gave the child a name
related to that declaration.
Although this is the pattern that runs throughout this narrative, Rashi
(29:34), citing the Midrash, notes a difference in how the Torah connected the
various names with the mother’s declaration. In some instances, the Torah emphasized,
“therefore
[al kein] she called him…”
On other occasions, however, the Torah simply recorded the mother’s
response to the birth followed by the name produced from this response, without
the emphasis of “al kein.”
Rashi comments that the use or omission of the term “al kein” in
each instance alludes to the future of the tribe that would later emerge from
the given child. As a rule, Rashi
writes, when the Torah emphasized the link between the mother’s declaration and
the birth with the term “al kein,” a large tribe emerged from that
child. The children whose names
were not introduced with this expression produced smaller-sized tribes. The exception to this rule, Rashi notes,
is the tribe of Levi, which ranked among the smaller tribes despite the use of
the word “al kein” in reference to Levi’s name. Rashi explains that the Levite
population was diminished because they bore the responsibility of transporting
the Mishkan in the wilderness, and improper exposure to
the ark resulted in death.
How might we explain this significance afforded by
Chazal
to the term “al kein”?
The Maharal of Prague, in his Gur Aryeh, suggests three different
explanations, the final of which he appears to view as the primary and most
compelling approach:
When
it [the Torah] says, “al kein,” it attaches the reason for the name with
the name, as opposed to the place where it did not say, “al kein,” and
[thus] does not attach the reason for the name with the name. Now the reason for the name is something
of intelligence, in that it provides a reason, and because it attached
intelligence to it has a loftier stature – hence the increase [in
population].
The
Maharal seems to explain the significance of al kein in light of the
importance of reason and logic. The
more firmly the name is grounded in a specific reason, the “loftier” its
stature. In the cases where the
Torah wrote “al kein,” the name was exclusively the product of the reason
given; apparently, in the situations where “al kein” is omitted, the
name’s association with the reason given is less direct. In the former cases, the added dimension
of reason and logic resulted in greater blessing.
What Chazal might be teaching here, then, is the importance of
acting in a reasoned, calculated manner.
Quite simply, actions that are undertaken in a manner characterized by
“al kein” – for a clearly-defined purpose, and as the result of careful
planning and consideration – are more likely to succeed and endure. Rash, reckless and haphazard
decision-making – the precise opposite of “al kein” – often leads to
failure or underachievement. The
message of al kein is thus importance of acting for a reason, rather than
with mindless impulse.
|