“And he took one of the stones of that place…”

“There will always be rocks in the road ahead of us. They will be stumbling blocks or steppingstones; it all depends on how you use them.”

Friedrich Nietzsche

I was seven years old when I first learned about the story of Ya’akov’s (Jacob) dream. It has captivated me ever since.

Imagine Jacob, a fugitive who is forced to leave his home and his family, a man who is doomed to a life of wandering after stealing the first born right from Esau. A man, so it seems, who is well on his way to becoming a "tragic hero."

At one point, he decides to follow the advice of his mother and visit his uncle, Laban, who lives in Haran. Haran is outside of the boundaries of Eretz Yisrael.

Needless to add that his journey is perilous and carries him through unfamiliar terrains. It takes much courage and determination to embark on such an undertaking.

Additionally, it is essential to preface here that in ancient times, the prevalent belief was that G-d dwelt and was present only within the boundaries of Eretz Yisrael. ”Eretz Yisrael is the House of G-d” (Or Ha Chayim Shemot 20:2). “He who dwells in Eretz Yisrael is like one who has a G-d, and he who dwells outside of the Land is like one who does not have a G-d.” (Ketuvot 110b).  

I can only imagine the emotional agitation and the storm that rages within Ya’akob as he is getting ready to spend the night in no man’s land, alone and consumed by the fear that G-d is not there to watch over him.  

After he finds a place to rest and sleep, Ya’akov puts a stone under his head and falls asleep. We all know that a hard stone could never take the place of a comfortable, soft pillow.

The question that is begging to be asked is, why would Jacob do that? Surely, he could use something less harsh in place of a pillow.

What role does the bulky stone under Ya’akov’s head have in this story?

The answer has everything to do with the dream that Ya’akov is about to dream. In it, he sees a ladder placed on earth, its head reaching the sky and the angels of G-d are climbing and descending it.

“Dad,” I asked my father after reading that dream for the first time at the age of seven, “where do angels dwell?” “In heaven, of course,” came the obvious answer. “So, why,” I persisted in my innocent way, “does it say that the angels first climbed the ladder and then came down? If they are in heaven above, don’t they need to come down first and then climb up?”

My father was speechless. “I have read this story so many times,” he admitted, “but the question that you raise never occurred to me.” He decided to go and see Rabbi Sokolover, the then chief rabbi of Ra’anana, my home town.

“What a wise girl,“ I remember the rabbi saying when my father posed the question to him. Rash”i and a seven years old girl ask the same question. Rash”i, “continued the rabbi, “explains that the angels that descended were those that accompanied Ya’akov on his journey throughout Eretz Yisrael. As he was about to leave Eretz Yisrael those bid him farewell and he was joined by the angels of foreign lands who were entrusted with guarding him. As the dream continues, Ya’akov suddenly experiences G-d who blesses him, promises to give him the land upon which he lies, and pledges to watch over him and protect him. Through his dream, Ya’akov learns that G-d’s presence, his guardianship and the protection of his angels continue to cloak him with a blanket of security and ensure his well-being. It must have been quite a relief for his forlorn soul.

Back to the stone that Ya’akov put under his head. I believe that it plays a very important role in this episode The hard stone, naturally, causes Ya’akov’s head to be tilted. Tilting the head is one way of showing respect. In a symbolic way, the stone prepared Ya’akov to the revelation of G-d, something that Ya’akov had never expected.

Moreover, unbeknown to him, Ya’akov spent the night in what we learn is a holy place. He takes the stone upon which he rested his head, sets up a monument, pours oil on it and names the place Beit El where a House of G-d will one day be erected. He also vows to give one tenth of his possessions to charity should he return to Eretz Yisrael safely.

The stone, as many perceive it, represents the lowest point in nature – the power of the inanimate. Frankly, how many of us truly look at or regard stones as bearing any significance?

However, as the episode above suggests, even stones, can be of value and capable of absorbing sanctity and divinity. Not only do they not disturb the revelation of G-d, they support and facilitate it as well as join it.

In the words of Nietzche, I hope that, like Ya'akov, we all turn the rocks/stones which could threaten to become the stumbling blocks on the journey of our life into stepping stones and veer our experiences along that path into rewarding and meaningful encounters which will lead us to a life of fulfillment and sheer bliss.

Shavua tov  to all. ❤ ❤ ❤

The Dream Refuses to Die

I really believed it was possible.

I believed that in times of calm and absence of war, Jews could live in Peace with each other. I wanted to believe that a shared Past, Present and Future could forge us here in Eretz Yisrael into one cohesive unit.

I wished for one moment, one brief moment that we all shell our differences and appreciate each other irrespective of their views. I envisioned a day where foul language and name calling will be part of a fading past and replaced with "agreeing to disagree."

To say that I was never guilty of any attempts to discredit others, sometimes in a language that was always devoid of criticism or cynicism, would be a lie.

I can, however, say that I never stooped down to some of the levels that I witness others do. Engaging in that would be against anything I was raised to value.

Recent events here have shattered that dream. Jews accusing each other for failing to fulfill that which is expected of us by our esteemed and noble tradition. Finger pointing has become an almost daily practice and the accusations are getting uglier with each passing day.

I cannot but hear the deafening cries of The Image of G-d, that spark of goodness within each of us imploring to be rekindled. The principles of an ancient and sometimes invisible and often forgotten covenant are pleading and begging to emerge and shine.

Will we ever be able to collect the millions of pieces and build a better, more exalting Jewish world?

The fighter in me refuses to give up and extinguish that wish, that hope. The optimist in me deeply believes, in some of the unexplored creases of my Jewish essence that it will come true.

My only question is, what will it take and how long.