Last week in Parashat Toldot, we asked why Isaac? Why was Isaac the second patriarch? Today, we ask the same question for Jacob. Why Jacob? Why is a person like Jacob—so troubled in his life, so deceptive, so unreliable, tricking his father, his brother, and his future father-in-law—the one chosen as our patriarch? Why are we Israel?
Being the people of Israel reminds us, from the very name that defines us, that we are Jacob’s descendants, inheriting everything he represents.
"Jacob departed from Be’er Sheva and went toward Haran.”
Why does it say Jacob "departed from Be’er Sheva and went toward Haran"? Why not simply say, "Jacob went from Be’er Sheva to Haran"?
This is a parashah full of verbs. In the first three verses alone, there are no fewer than ten verbs, as though the text wants to convey Jacob’s restlessness as he fled from the death threat posed by his brother. Yet, it also reflects the inner turmoil of a man beginning a transformative journey.
It wasn’t just about leaving Be’er Sheva. It was about leaving his family, stepping away from his mother’s influence, escaping a threat to his life, and embarking on a path that would define him. That’s why we see two verbs—he had to leave his home and begin his journey.
We don’t know how long it took Jacob to reach Haran, but in Hebrew, the word for walking (lalechet) shares the same root as the word for process (tahalich). From the very first verse, the Torah hints at a process, a journey, a pivotal moment for our people and, of course, for the life of our third patriarch.
The most prominent verb in this parashah is “to dream”: "And he dreamed: Behold, a ladder was set on the earth, and its top reached the heavens; and behold, the angels of God were ascending and descending on it." (Genesis 28:12)
The angels ascended and descended, implying they were already on Earth, dwelling among us. They rose to the heavens and then returned, continuing to accompany us. Holiness exists when heaven and Earth are connected through human actions. There is no holiness when heaven is disconnected from Earth. If blood is spilled on Earth in the name of heaven, it’s because someone left one end of the ladder unsupported, severing the connection.
When Jacob awoke, he understood it was no mere dream but a divine revelation. He consecrated the site, erected a monument of stones, and named the place Bethel.
What’s striking is Jacob’s reaction: "Indeed, God is in this place, and I did not know it."
Jacob could have continued on his old path. But he didn’t. He became a person of integrity. He changed when he stopped deceiving, when he decided to abandon his deceitful ways, when life’s circumstances and his experiences gave him the chance to improve himself. This happened when he acknowledged a power greater than himself. He allowed himself to be surprised by the encounter and opened himself to transformation.
That might be one reason why we are Israel.
Like Jacob, we are a troubled people. Like Jacob, we strive to straighten our path and improve ourselves through our commitment to Torah and mitzvot, aiming for tikkun atzmi (personal repair) that leads to tikkun olam (repairing the world). This is something we do daily—or at least strive to do.
Perhaps the secret lies in allowing ourselves to be surprised, as Jacob was. By opening our eyes to our shortcomings in the face of the awe-inspiring wonder around us, we can begin our journey as well—a journey to mend the darker, more challenging corners of our lives: our selfishness, our lack of commitment.
Most importantly, we can do so while remaining connected to the divine. By seeking a connection to our history, our ancestors, and God, we transform our experiences into a journey of greater elevation and dedication that brings us fulfillment and reassurance.
We need to dream of a way out—a path that connects us to values of humanity, love, understanding, and brotherhood. We need to climb the rungs of a ladder that is not merely a dream but the reality of this moment, where we find ourselves mired in fear and conflict.
Perhaps, one day, we will recognize that “God was in this place”, and instead of stubbornly pushing Him away, we will marvel at His presence.
May we choose to leave our comfort zones, take the first step, and keep dreaming.
Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi Gustavo Geier