Climb the Ladder

 Vayetze

Gen. 28:10-33:3

 

Précis: As Jacob travels towards the household of his uncle Laban, he dreams of a ladder (some translate it as a ramp) to heaven, with angels ascending and descending. He vows to build a great House for God on the spot. Jacob meets and falls in love with Laban’s younger daughter, Rachel. Laban agrees to the match, provided that Jacob works for him for seven years. Laban switches the older daughter, Leah, for Rachel; Jacob works an additional seven years for Rachel’s hand. Jacob then works for Laban another six years, and acquires great wealth and flocks through shrewd husbandry. During the stay with Laban, most of the children of Jacob are born. At the conclusion of the parasha, after tense negotiations with Laban, Jacob leaves with his possessions and family.

 

Gen. 28:10 “And Jacob left.” 

 

Bill Shackman remarks in Torah Sparks (11/17/18) that this reading begins with Jacob fleeing family violence, having a brother who wants to kill him and a father who cannot protect him. He will need to rely on the kindness of strangers. Sleeping with a rock pillow, he dreams of a ladder, and upon awakening, realizes that we are all moving along the rungs of the ladder. Behind is fear and division. Up ahead are hope, empathy, and understanding.

            Here, states Shackman, the Torah imprints on our national psyche the trauma of being a refugee. Since being banished from the Garden of Eden, our ancestors were continually strangers. Noah, Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, and then the entire people in Egypt. This was followed by the Exodus through a desert, and thousands of years of moving from place to place, sometimes welcome, often not. This underlies the Torah’s repeated support for the weak among us: for the stranger, the widow, and the orphan.

            Jacob himself is exploited by his uncle. But his redemption after more than 20 years of servitude shows that hope is always the next rung up the ladder, and despite our history as a persecuted people, we can dream of our own redemption as a people and as individuals as well.  

A Blind Eye

Toldot

Gen. 25:19-28:9

 

Précis: The introductory phrase to this parasha is “These are the generations (“toldot”) of Isaac.” What follows is the birth of the twins, Esau and Jacob. Their childhood is omitted from the narrative. We learn that Jacob is a quiet man while Esau is a cunning hunter, that their mother Rebecca prefers Jacob, and that Isaac prefers Esau. Esau sells his birthright to Jacob for a bowl of porridge (or lentils). A famine takes place, and Isaac visits the Philistines where he claims that his wife Rebecca is actually his sister (as Abraham did with Sarah in Lech Lecha) and again, the woman escapes unharmed. The story turns to the “great deception” where Jacob pretends to be Esau in order to obtain the primary blessing from his father Isaac. Esau hates Jacob and threatens him; Rebecca urges Jacob to escape to her family in Haran, and he sets off at the conclusion of the parasha.

Gen. 27:1 “And it came to pass when Isaac was old, and his eyes were dim, and he could not see, he called Esau, his older son, and said to him ‘My son’ and he said to him ‘Here I am.’”

 

As is noted by Rabbi Michael Dolgin (10 Minutes of Torah, 11/16/22), we can easily construe the text to indicate that Isaac knew who was getting the blessing, asking Jacob on more than one occasion who he really was. Dolgin suggests that his physical blindness led to another “blindness” of his surroundings and of truth. He was accepting of deceit.

            This demonstrates, once again, the timelessness of Torah, and the fact that its ancient stories are still relevant to our own societies. When we turn a “blind eye” towards injustice, our society falters. When we dismiss anti-Semites as unthreatening to us, we endanger ourselves as a Jewish community (the FBI this week reported a 14% increase in religious-based hate crimes, almost all of which were directed at Jews). When we ignore hatred, we contribute to its success.

            As Rabbi Dolgin concludes, "Willful blindness is not a curiosity. It presents a profound danger to all we hold dear."