“The Path of Uncertainty”
“He knows the way I take; when He has tested me, I will come forth as gold.” Job 23:10
Uncertainty reminds me of a classic scene in the movie “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade”. Many of you may remember when Indiana Jones found himself at a chasm he needed to cross, with no bridge, no visible support and no signs. He stared out into the void and murmured, “This is a step of faith.” When he finally took the step… only then did a hidden path appear, one that had always been there but revealed itself only to those who dared walk it. This is precisely what Vayetze is about. Yaakov is walking toward an unknown destination, fleeing, vulnerable, with a heart full of doubt; as we say in my country, “with his tail between his legs.” He left home with nothing but his father’s blessing and God’s promise. He sees no bridge. He sees no support. He sees no clear signs. The path ahead appears unsafe and uncertain.
Parashat Vayetze deals with several related themes: Jacob’s dream, Jacob’s journey and arrival at Laban’s house, how Jacob was exploited through labor, Laban’s deception of Jacob by switching his wife, Jacob’s marriage and the birth of his sons, Jacob’s prosperity in Haran, Jacob’s flight from Haran to Canaan, and concluding with Jacob continuing his journey after making peace with his father-in-law. Although any one of these can bring us a teaching, I would like to focus on something that, at first glance, seems simple.
The Torah says that Jacob left Beersheba for Haran, which seems like a normal trip —like going from San Salvador to Guatemala or from Montreal to Toronto—nothing out of the ordinary. However, if we analyze Jacob’s life up to that point, according to the calculations in the 17th Megillah, Jacob was 77 years old when he left Beersheba. Jacob was a man accustomed to living in comfort (in tents), and now he would have to face many challenges. First of all, he wasn’t a young man. Young people believe they can conquer the world and are hungry and thirsty for success, but someone who is 77 years old thinks things through very carefully. Jacob also lacked the physical strength of a hunter like his brother, Esau. He hadn’t lived outside his familiar surroundings, so his survival skills were limited. He wasn’t used to living alone; he was always close to his mother. We could say that he was vulnerable to deception, theft, and physical problems. The Torah tells us that he left alone, without money or possessions; he had no provisions, he had no training on how to face a life of imposed hard labor, he didn’t know the routes, he was not a hunter or a man familiar with weapons, and a man of almost 80 years of age would now be starting his life from scratch.
Putting myself in his shoes, what fears do I imagine Jacob might have had? Fear of his present and his future. Jacob was aware that he carried his father’s blessing, but at that moment, he had no clear plan for how to manifest it. Fear of loneliness; he was a man who had been surrounded by his parents, brother, and servants, and now he found himself in a place (Makom) completely alone, in a desert. He was afraid that his brother would follow him to kill him, since that had been the last recorded conversation with his mother. His thoughts frightened him –”My father blessed me, but I could also have lost that blessing because of my behavior, and perhaps my current situation as a wanderer is a punishment.” If we really think about it, he was aware of the deception and the pain he had caused others. He was afraid of the outside world. After all, he went directly from a “controlled and protected environment” into the real world, filled with deception, survival, contracts, struggle, complex social life, earning his living, and physical danger. All these experiences would be new to Jacob.
When Jacob was the most vulnerable, the Torah says: “Vayetze Ya’akov mi-Be’er Shava vayelech Haranah– So Jacob left Beersheba and headed to Haran” (Genesis 28:10). Why all the detail?. Why doesn’t it just say, “And he went to Haran”? We know he lived in Beersheba, so why does the Torah dwell upon it? Well, because he wasn’t just physically leaving one place for another, it was also an emotional and spiritual departure. He left the security, protection, and comfort of his home for the unknown, the identity of his people for an unfamiliar one—in other words, he would have to earn his name.
Beersheba was a place of peace. It was where Isaac found peace after the conflict at the wells. (Gen. 26:33) Jacob was leaving a place of oaths and covenants, a symbol of the continuity between Abraham and Isaac, to go to Haran, a place of “wrath, fury, and chaos.” In Hebrew, Hara (חרה) means “to be consumed by anger.” What did that mean? Jacob was leaving home without knowing what he would find, like many immigrants who have left Latin America for the US in pursuit of the American dream. Jacob is entering a hostile environment marked by deception, challenge, and painful growth. Life sometimes takes us from a “well of peace” to a “furnace of transformation.” Although Jacob left voluntarily, his soul descended from his home, a spiritually pure place, to a truly pagan environment. Sometimes God moves us from peace to conflict so that we may elevate our souls, because by working, by striving, by learning to love and being responsible, we build a future, a family. Up until this point, in Beersheba, Jacob had only been a recipient of blessings, but now, in Haran, God wants him to become a generator of blessings. This is the beginning of his journey toward becoming Israel.
It is not until he leaves that God reveals Himself to Jacob, for we read immediately afterward: “And he found himself in a certain place, and spent the night there, because the sun had set. And he took one of the stones of the place and put it at his head, and lay down in that place.” “Vayifga bamakom.” The sages asked, “What is this place?” “It has no name,” Rashi says, that Hamakon is God, one of the Divine Names (Rashi on Bereshit 28:11), and in the Zohar I 68a it says: “The place, because ‘the world is not the place of God; God is the place in the world.” So, this encounter isn’t only a geographical one, defining a physical place, but also a spiritual encounter for Yaakov.
Yaakov encounters the Presence in the darkest moment of his life. Sometimes God doesn’t reveal Himself in the light of day, but rather when the sun has set, and we can no longer see the path ahead. He then says, “because the sun had set.” This isn’t a meteorological reference – when the sun sets, the soul enters a period of concealment, when the inner light dims, enthusiasm fades, and we run out of strength… that’s where the true encounter begins. So, the setting sun is not a punishment, it is not abandonment, it is an invitation to an encounter with the Divine.
Then Yaakov takes “the stones from the place,” and then “puts them at his head.” Why this reference? Of course, the stones served as a protective fence against animals, but the head represents consciousness, thoughts, and intellect. Stones are synonymous with the material – enduring, stable, firm, holding up great buildings—that is emunah (faith), which endures through time. So, to enjoy emunah, one must protect one’s thoughts, one’s mind. When the intellect can no longer manage, then emunah sustains us. Verse 11 ends, “And he lay down in that place,” meaning he was able to rest. Jacob had to quiet his mind and his thoughts to receive the Divine message. And what message does he receive in his darkest moment? It is the revelation of “And he dreamed, and behold, a ladder was set up on the earth, and its top reached to heaven; and behold, the angels of God were ascending and descending on it.” “Vayachalom vehineh sulam mutzav artzah verosho magia hashamaymah vehineh mal’achei Elohim olim veyoredim boh.”
The ladder, sulam (סֻלָּם֙ in Hebrew), appeared when Jacob was utterly broken, representing the connection between the lower and upper worlds; it is a link. And this ladder is not just any ladder; it says, “sulam mutzav artzah.” The verb מֻצָּב “mutzav” doesn’t refer to something resting on something else, as is usually the case with any ladder, but rather to the support of an erect, fixed, vertically implanted object, like an elevator or a pillar. Malachim, angels appear. According to the sages, these are the angels who ascend from the land of Israel and descend to protect Jacob in Haran. The Arizal also says that they represent the prayers that ascend and the answers that descend. I also believe that, up to this point, Jacob may have been offering up to God what had been decisions, emotions, trials, and experiences, so that a new purpose, blessing, and challenge might descend from God. The ladder seems to be resting on nothing, but is actually firmly planted in the ground.
Jacob lost his physical place, and then he found the Divine Makom. Until he “Vayetze” “goes out,” he receives the Divine message, and now he hears God directly, making a covenant with Him. This is how Makon became Bethel (House of God) v.19. Emunah (faith) and Bitachon (trust) flourish during uncertainty. Sometimes we feel empty, in a “no man’s land,” where we can’t see the outcome, or without direction in life; that’s when, like Indiana Jones, we must take a “leap of faith.”
Perhaps we are going through a difficult time in life, but as Job said, “He knows the way I take; when He tests me, I will come forth as gold.” You will be gold, but you must pass through Haran. I encourage you not to lose your way, to be aware that the future will be better, and that in God’s hands, what seems bad is for our good. Even if the sun sets, let us not fear, for we are blessed by God.
Shabbat Shalom
Mauricio Quintero