Divrei Torah

Vayeitzei is a parashah with bookends: It starts with flight and ends with flight; it starts with a pillar and ends with a pillar (מַּצֵּבָ֔ה); it starts with a vow and ends with a vow. Such a nice, tidy frame around, arguably, a lot of commotion. It’s in that commotion, however, where change occurs, insuring that the Jacob at the start of the parashah is not the same Jacob at its end.

How does it feel to be unfavored? 

Recently I was thinking a good deal about the fact that with so much going on in Israel, around the world and even here, in the United States, we forget to talk about LOVE. Unfortunately, we constantly worry – no wonder we are called the “anxious generation.”

As Abraham reached the final stage of implementing God’s request — ready to make the ultimate sacrifice of his own son — he suddenly saw a ram caught in the bushes. At the angel’s direction, he lifted the ram and placed it on the altar in place of Isaac, offering it as the sacrifice. For Abraham, this resolved the “test” and maintained the life of his son. But what of the ram, the being that had no choice but to be sacrificed? Besides serving as a substitute for Isaac, what meaning can we derive by looking at the Akeidah from the ram’s perspective?

It’s very different today. Churches, mosques and synagogues dot the landscape of many cities and towns throughout the world. Simply find the front door, enter and join in congregational worship or find a cozy spot within and start your own personal meditation. 

It has not always been that way. It certainly did not work that way thousands of years ago when one person, and only one person, had the understanding that the world was created by the One. A person would worship the sun, the moon or the stars or anything else within nature, but not their Creator.