Peter Paul Rubens
The Reconciliation
of Jacob and Esau

Last week we read in the Torah about Jacob fleeing from his home in Canaan in fear of his life. He had stolen his brother Esau’s blessing and Esau had vowed to kill Jacob once their father died. Jacob camps for a night on his way to Haran and has a dream of angels ascending and descending a ladder. In the dream G-d gives Jacob a blessing and promises to protect him in his journey and to bring him back to the land of Canaan.

Following this dream, Jacob makes a vow. He says, “If G-d remains with me, if He protects me on this journey I am making, and gives me bread to eat and clothing to wear, and if I return safe to my father’s house – Adonai will be my G-d.” This is an interesting vow because of what Jacob did not say. We might have expected him to vow, after experiencing such a vivid dream and divine promise: “Surely G-d will remain with me; surely G-d will protect me on my journey; surely G-d will give me bread to eat; surely I will return safe to my father’s house…..”

Why does Jacob use the word, “if” instead of “surely”? Because Jacob is not sure. He is only just starting out on a journey. He is not entirely sure that the G-d of his grandfather and grandmother, Abraham and Sarah, the G-d of his father and mother, Isaac and Rebecca, can fulfill his promise to him. Perhaps he is not sure that the G-d who is so powerful in the Land of Canaan can be equally powerful hundreds of miles away, in another country, whose people worship other gods. So Jacob qualifies this vow with the word “if”. As Jacob plunges into the unknown future, he has hope, but not certainty, that he will be able to meet the challenges ahead.

Throughout our history, we Jews, like Jacob, have faced crisis after crisis with the hope, but without a guarantee, that we would successfully meet the many challenges to our survival. This hope is symbolized by the lighting of the Chanukah candles, which begins next Thursday night. You know the story well. When the Maccabees were ready to rededicate the Temple in Jerusalem that had been defiled by the Syrian Greeks, they found only one vial of pure oil, an amount that would last but one night. They lit that oil, and it lasted for eight nights. One might well ask, “Why, then, do we celebrate Chanukah for eight nights?” The miracle, after all, was only for seven nights. The one vial of oil would certainly burn for one night. That first night was not a miracle!

The miracle of Chanukah lies not only in the fact that one days’ worth of oil lasted for eight days. The miracle of Chanukah also lies in the willingness of those who lit the menorah to take the first step to rededicating the Temple without any assurance that the lamp would continue to burn for eight days.  They had an opportunity and seized it without knowing how, or whether, they could keep the darkness out until new, pure oil could be found. We see this same spirit of hope expressed in Jacob’s journey to a foreign land; we see it expressed in millions of Jews throughout history who set down new roots in the lands which form our Diaspora; we see it expressed in the halutzim, the pioneers of modern Israel who were determined to found a new state in an ancient land. All took a step into the future not knowing how it would end but determined to begin nonetheless -- All of these actions based on hope alone.

 There are times in our own lives we do not start something because we are not sure where it will lead us. We don’t pick up a musical instrument because we cannot be assured of mastering it. We don’t embark on Jewish studies because we don’t believe we will become scholars. We convince ourselves that since success is far from assured, there is no sense in even making an effort.

As we begin our celebration next Thursday, let us remember that the Chanukah lights teach us to trust in our beginnings, to seize the opportunities that the moment presents, to begin despite the fact that we have no guarantee we will reach the goal we set out for. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, of blessed memory, teaches us that there is a difference between optimism and hope. Jews, he says, are not optimists, but we are a people with hope. “Optimism is the belief that things will turn out for the better,” he says. “Hope” is the belief that if we work toward something, we can make things better.” As Jacob sets out for Haran, he is not optimistic. Rather, he hopes that through his intelligence, hard work, and help from G-d, he would succeed. It is a model for us all.

Shabbat Shalom