Posts in Category: Divrei Torah
B’shalach
The Shabbat of Parshas B’shalach is also known as Shabbat Shirah. Rav Pincus notes that “shirah” – a time of song – is not reserved for that once instance in history, when we arrived on safe shores, on the other side of the Yam Suf. The concept of shirah – singing out in praise, appreciation, love, adoration of the Borei Olam – should ideally be a dominant part of every day of our lives. Dovid HaMelech spent entire nights writing song and praise, composing Tehillim, etc. Singing praise of Hashem is a “chovas kol ha’yetzurim lifanecha,” as we say every Shabbat in the teffila of Nishmas kol chai. There is a chova – an obligation of every human being – to sing shirah to Hashem for all the wonderful gifts He bestows upon us every day.
Gemara Psachim 118a says:
קשין מזונותיו של אדם כקריעת ים סוף, דכתיב (תהילים קלו:כה) נותן לחם לכל בשר וסמיך ליה לגוזר ים סוף לגזרים
How do we understand that providing food for one’s self (and family) is as difficult as Krias Yam Suf?
It’s a real avodah and takes real effort to acknowledge Hashem, and not take for granted the simplest sustenance, possessions and abilities we have been given. But, says Rav Pincus, when we come home at night and open our refrigerators to find food, that itself is like Krias Yam Suf, and is worthy of pausing to “say shira”. No doubt, that being makir tov to Hashem constantly throughout the day is a tremendously lofty endeavor, but it an important ideal to strive for, even if one can only achieve a fraction of the total goal. Saying shirah is something that we have to train ourselves to do on a more regular basis.
One final thought: Rav Pincus quotes Rebbe Yeshoshua ben Levi, who says (Sanhedrin 91a): “Kol ha’omer shirah ba’olam ha’zeh, zocheh v’omrah l’olam haba”
This gemara was a particularly difficult idea for me to reconcile, in thinking about the yahrtzeit this Shabbat. One cannot understand why a person like Daniella, who spent so much of olam ha’zeh singing shira, was taken to olam haba now, so swiftly, so young. But I saw another idea in Rav Pincus that brought some comfort that I would like to share…
Shir HaShirim 2:14, says:
יוֹנָתִי בְּחַגְוֵי הַסֶּלַע בְּסֵתֶר הַמַּדְרֵגָה הַרְאִינִי אֶת מַרְאַיִךְ הַשְׁמִיעִנִי אֶת קוֹלֵךְ
My dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the covert of the cliff, let me see your countenance, let me hear your voice.
Rashi comments on this passuk that the dove Shlomo HaMelech is referring to is a mashal for Bnei Yisrael in Parshas B’shalach.
Bnei Yisrael fleeing Paraoh is akin to a dove hiding in the clefts of a rocky cliff. The dove has gone there to hide from the predatory hawk but inside the rocky refuge is a snake. So too Bnei Yisrael were caught between the Yam Suf in front of them (snake), and the entire Egyptian army bearing down on them from behind (hawk). With nowhere to turn, Hashem says to us – ‘show me your face; show me to whom do you turn when you are in distress?’
הַשְׁמִיעִנִי אֶת קוֹלֵךְ — Let me hear your voice; Rashi explains this to mean – to whom do you call out in a time of tzara?
Very often, during times of tzara there is no answer or explanation. While asking for an answer may be fruitless, it also doesn’t mean we stay silent, wallowing in sadness. It is my belief that the mitzvos, and shalosh seudot and torah learning, and increased sensitivity to others, etc. that took place in the wake of Daniella’s passing is our קוֹלֵךְ — our “calling out”. There is no answer to be had for why tragedy occurs; the best we can do is ensure an increase of G-dliness in the world through the actions by those still in olam ha’zeh and able to perform mitzvos. Hashem asks the dove in it’s time of sorrow – ‘to whom do you call out’ – and we have responded: ‘To You, Hashem.’
In the first dvar torah after Daniella’s passing, for Parshas Yisro, I quoted from Tehillim 92:13-14:
צַדִּיק כַּתָּמָר יִפְרָח כְּאֶרֶז בַּלְּבָנוֹן יִשְׂגֶּה
שְׁתוּלִים בְּבֵית ה’ בְּחַצְרוֹת אֱ-לֹהֵינוּ יַפְרִיחוּ
A tzaddik grows like a cedar tree; beyond any normal bounds. Why? The message of Dovid HaMelech’s beautiful poetry is that a tzaddik ultimately grows in a world without boundaries; he or she grows in Hashem’s garden. It flourishes in Hashem’s palace. Tzaddikim are hopefully given many years in this world to influence others and allow others to learn from them, but the main flourishing of a tzaddik occurs beyond this world.
My hope is that through Daniella’s own abundant zechuyos, and through our קוֹלֵךְ and the proliferation of mitzvos and learning that have been undertaken in her memory, that her neshama continues to grow and be elevated like a soaring tree “b’veis Hashem,” and that in turn, her family and friends feel more of her presence and guidance in this world.
Bo
[based on Rav Shimon Schwab’s sefer, Ma’ayan Beis Ha’Shoeva]
Rashi elucidates that Moshe was angry because of what Paraoh had said in the previous chapter (10:29), when Paraoh told Moshe never to see him again.
Rav Schwab zt”l asks, how it could be that Moshe, the most humble man to ever live would be upset by these words of Paraoh? Furthermore, Moshe agrees that he will never see Paraoh again, and Rashi says in the next passuk (10:30) that Paraoh was correct! So why did Moshe get so angry? What was the purpose – why here, why now?
Moshe stormed out of Paraoh’s palace angered by one thing: Paraoh’s utter and public disrespect of Hashem. Unquestionably, Moshe must have been frustrated from the first moment Paraoh refused to acknowledge the overt existence of Hashem. But Moshe had a mission; Moshe had a certain shlichus from Hashem from which he never veered. Specifically, in Va’era6:13, Hashem tells Moshe and Aharon to command Paraoh to let Bnei Yisrael leave Egypt:
Va’era
In the opening passuk of Vaera, Hashem proceeds to reveal Himself in an even more profound way than ever before; more so than by the burning bush and to the Avot. He instructs Moshe to use the four famous expressions of redemption, inspire the people, and appear before Paraoh as a strong, united front; we are poised for what seems like a huge re-group/4th quarter rally/achdusclinic.
After Hashem’s rousing speech to Moshe, along comes passuk 9, and instead of an exuberant, rallying response from the nation, the Torah tells us (6:9):
Two interesting thoughts from this passuk:
This phenomenon exists today as well. We too can fall victim to the hardships and atrocities that are all too ubiquitous in the world today, and lose sight and hope of the future. But just like Hashem fulfilled His promise then to the Avos and Moshe Rabbeinu, by springing Bnei Yisrael from bondage, so too:
אני מאמין באמונה שלמה בביאת המשיח ואף על פי שיתמהמה עם כל זה אחכה לו בכל יום
2. Breishis Rabba links the “avodah kasha” term with virtually an entire chapter in Sefer Yechezkel. Chapter 20 in Yechezkel details the depths Bnei Yisrael descended to in Egypt, and how steeped in paganism they were. Bnei Yisrael were told to lift themselves out of the muck, but they were too mired in avodah zara, and they failed. They refused Hashem’s offer.
They were too involved with the influences of Mitzrayim to listen to the word of Hashem and the word of Moshe. There is a well-known medrash that, while enslaved in Egypt, Bnei Yisrael did not change their names or their manner of dress, but even keeping this in mind, they could still have been living in two worlds – part jewish identity, part enticed by paganism. As the Navi Eliyahu says to Bnei Yisrael, in the famous story on Har HaCarmel, in Melachim I 18:21:
So we see that the two words of “avodah kasha” is a hyperlink to an entire perek in Yechezkeil. It is not a “pretty” perek, so it makes sense that its contents wouldn’t be recorded in Shmot, which is more about the grandeur of yetziat mitzrayim, but it is a part of our history nonetheless.
In a shiur given by Rav Moshe Taragin, he discusses the concept of “deserving” redemption. Certainly, this notion of “deserving” redemption is not something that we as humans can really judge. But Rav Taragin suggest that our role in the 21st Century isn’t as much to infuse the world with the concept of a monotheistic G-d, but rather to defend our G-d and His profile. Much of the world acknowledges the existence of G-d, but vandalize His Name.
In that same light, we were given a country in 1948 and it is our job as Jews to use it as a place of morality, peace, advancements in medicine and science, education, etc. Similarly, Jews have risen to great heights in business, political office, wealth; it is our responsibility to use those positions and monetary means for tikkun olam, instead of corruption and greed. Whether we “deserve” to be redeemed now, or whether we have “deserved” it in the past, is obviously up to Hashem. But we are taught that the reason Hashem did not destroy us in Egypt, in spite of our poor behavior, was because the world would have been too devoid of Hashem’s presence without us here to represent Him. Therefore, the message is that we must embrace that responsibility and utilize our time to the fullest, as ovdei Hashem, constantly making kiddushei Hashem, and not, chas v’shalom, the opposite.
Daniella A”H, certainly understood this idea, living up to Hashem’s expectations of us in this world, infusing this world with kedusha and exemplary middos. She lived a life of chessed, integrity, tzniyus, by greeting every person she met with a smile and incredible kindness. May we continue on in her shining example.
Shmos
In Shmos 1:15, the Torah tells us that the incredibly righteous and brave women who defied Paraoh, and saved the Jewish firstborn males from being tossed into the Nile, were named Shifra and Puah:
וַיֹּאמֶר מֶלֶךְ מִצְרַיִם לַמְיַלְּדֹת הָעִבְרִיֹּת אֲשֶׁר שֵׁם הָאַחַת שִׁפְרָה וְשֵׁם הַשֵּׁנִית פּוּעָה
A glaring question arises: Why does the Torah uses these alternate names? Here is Yocheved, a woman of 123 years, one of the 70 people who went down with Yaakov to Egypt, the daughter of Levi; and Miriam – a neviah…were they not worthy of being identified by their originally-given names?!
He uses a mashal of a baby that is sick in the hospital, lo aleinu. The doctors are working round-the-clock to try and save the baby and figure out the cause of the illness. But the mother is sitting calmly with the baby, speaking softly in his ear, and trying to eek out a smile, telling herself and the baby that it will all be OK. The doctors are rightfully consumed by the big stuff – the baby’s heart rate or white blood cell count, etc. They can’t worry about the baby’s happiness level or whether the baby is calm or in fear.
Miriam and Yocheved essentially played both roles, of heroic doctor and caring mother. In the most horrifying circumstances, trying to rescue the lives of these babies who were otherwise sentenced to be drowned to death, Miriam and Yocheved also endeavored to give these babies some semblance of normalcy, by soothing and comforting them, paying attention to the little things. Even during chaos and oppression, they were Shifrah and Puah.
Rav Pincus also includes a story about Rav Shlomo Heiman ztl. His wife was a huge ba’alat tzeddakah, who was particularly focused on helping financially-troubled orphans find enough money to make a wedding.
In thinking about this idea from Rav Pincus, I believe there is a related lesson with regards to different types of tzeddakah and kindness. Without making any qualitative distinctions whatsoever, there is the type of tzeddakah done slightly removed from the recipient (such as making a donation), and then there is tzeddakah done up close and personal. The latter requires a unique type of effort, sacrifice and frame of mind. Yocheved and Miriam – Shifra and Puah – weren’t writing checks or prescribing medicine from afar. They were the personal helpers to the newborn babies and their mothers at an incredibly frightening time in our history. They stood on the front lines and got their hands dirty, so to speak.
During this final month before Daniella’s yahrtzeit, I hope to try and highlight at least one or two of Daniella’s amazing qualities in connection with the upcoming parshiot.
Vayigash
[Based on an idea from Rav Pinchas Friedman]
After Yosef reveals his true identity to his brothers, the Torah states (Breishis 45: 14): “He fell upon his brother Binyamin’s neck and wept; and Binyamin wept upon his neck. He then kissed all his brothers and wept upon them; and afterwards his brothers spoke with him”.
Rashi explains that Yosef wept over the two Batei HaMikdash that were destined to be built in Binyamin’s territory and would ultimately be destroyed; Binyamin wept over the Mishkan of Shiloh that was destined to be built in Yosef’s (Ephraim’s) territory and would ultimately be destroyed.
These two brothers had not seen each other for 22 years; one would have thought that after such a prolonged separation they would have caught up a bit and reminisced about the good times back in Canaan. Instead, they wept on each other’s necks over the Batei HaMikdash/Mishkan that would be destroyed in their respective lands many years in the future.
The Ksav Sofer explains that Yosef and Binyamin wept because they knew that the hatred that divided the brothers and resulted in the sale of Yosef, would resurface over and over again and ultimately lead to the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash.
Rabbi Yechezkel of Kazmir notes that upon close examination of Rashi’s words, it is clear that neither brother wept over the destruction of the makom kadosh in his own territory, but rather over the makom kadosh located in his brother’s territory.
Yosef wept over the two Batei HaMikdash located in Binyamin’s territory that were destined to be destroyed, while Binyamin wept over the Mishkan in Shiloh located in Yosef’s territory that was destined to be destroyed. They exemplify brothers who love one another, and who share in each other’s pain and sorrow when darkness befalls, and rejoice in their good fortune and happiness when the sun shines again.
Reb Yechezkel connects the emotions shared by Yosef and Binyamin with something else Yosef imparts. Before the brothers leave to go back to Yaakov, Yosef tells his brothers (Breishis 45:24)
וַיֹּאמֶר אֲלֵהֶם אַל תִּרְגְּזוּ בַּדָּרֶךְ
He advises them “not to become agitated on the way”. The pshat explanation, provided by Rashi, is that Yosef tells his brothers not to fight with each other regarding which of the brothers was responsible for the sale of Yosef — this is certainly a good lesson that we should avoid assigning blame and quarreling with our brothers over sins of the past.Offering a more drash approach, Reb Yechezkel says that there are many different ways and methods of serving Hashem. If I see that my fellow Jew is not serving Hashem in the same manner that I do, I should not therefore become annoyed with him. It seems that Yosef wisely instructs and warns his brothers and their descendants (us): אל תרגזו בדרך — do not become agitated on the way; if you wish to correct the serious flaw of sin’at chinam and usher in the geula and Bayit Shlishi, do not get consumed by zealotry. Rather than being bothered by another Jew’s method of serving Hashem, learn to accept him and his Torah lovingly, and continue on your own derech. We all serve the same Creator and every Jew has his/her own unique way of serving Hashem.
Perhaps another lesson to be learned from the way Yosef interacts with his brothers, is how to give criticism. Before Yosef tells his brothers who he really is, he first asks them to come close to him (Breishis 45:4):
וַיֹּאמֶר יוֹסֵף אֶל אֶחָיו גְּשׁוּ נָא אֵלַי וַיִּגָּשׁוּ וַיֹּאמֶר אֲנִי יוֹסֵף אֲחִיכֶם אֲשֶׁר מְכַרְתֶּם אֹתִי מִצְרָיְמָה
As Reb Yechezkel points out, we shouldn’t be consumed by zealotry, but there are times when we need to be told by a Rav/friend/family member that we have done something wrong. If a person does need to be told this, perhaps the most effective way to do so, is to bring that individual in close and explain what wrongs have occurred.
Yosef equips us with the lessons of empathy, true forgiveness, avoidance of overzealousness, and effective methods of giving mussar, so that we may implement them ourselves when interacting with our own brothers and fellow Jews.
Mikeitz
The Pri Chadash offers an answer to this very well-known question of the Beis Yosef, suggesting that the lighting of the menorah on the first night (i.e. the night that corresponds to the “non-miraculous” lighting of the first candle for which there was enough oil) was instituted to memorialize a different aspect of the Chanukah miracle, namely the military defeat of the mighty Greeks at the hands of the overmatched Hashmonaim. But what is the correlation between victory in battle and lighting of the Menorah? If we’re celebrating the military victory, let’s do something related to military prowess.
The Medrash Tanchuma says that the lit Menorah miraculously cast a glow upon all courtyards in Yerushalayim. The lights of the Menorah publicized the Name of Hashem and our special status as His chosen people. Since the battle waged was one that revolved around freedom of public, religious expression, the Hashmonaim’s ability to defiantly light the Menorah signaled a decisive victory. Therefore, the annual commemoration the Greek’s defeat is appropriately celebrated on the first night of Chanukah with lighting of the Menorah. That first candle proudly displayed in our windows – small as it might seem – commemorates the true significance of the real battle that was won.
A military achievement, while extraordinary, is a page for the history books about our physical survival. The Chag of Chanukah, however, represented by the iconic Menorah, commemorates not the battle of the Hashmonaim, but the root of the battle: Belief in Hashem at all costs, Jewish pride, and re-attaining the knowledge that we have a special connection with the Borei Olam. No doubt, the Maccabees were war heroes, but their miraculous victory wasn’t the ends, it was a means to achieve the rededication of the Beis HaMikdash and the proliferation of Hashem’s great Name. The Maccabees had the fortitude to win the battle, find the small jar of oil and publicly ignite a symbol of Hashem’s omnipotence.
For most of us (hopefully), we aren’t fighting physical battles on a daily basis. Our spiritual struggle is to increase G-dliness/elokus in the world through mitzvos and kiddushei Hashem.
One possible connection (among many) to this week’s parsha is the way Yosef speak about Hashem after he impresses Paraoh with his dream-interpreting skills. Keep in mind that the Pharaohs were thought of as gods themselves.
Over and over, Hashem’s name is celebrated in chapter 41.
With no hesitation, Yosef proclaims to Paraoh that Hashem is pulling all the strings and calling all the shots. Furthermore, Paraoh himself becomes convinced of this fact, telling his servants that Yosef is filled with the “spirit of Hashem” and that Hashem has elucidated Paraoh’s dreams for Yosef interpret: (41:38-39)
Yosef ascribes all of his abilities to Hashem, impresses this upon the world’s most powerful leader, and convinces him of its truth. In doing so, Yosef performs a tremendous kiddush Hashem by increasing the world’s recognition of Hashem, much like the Hashmonaim many years later.
The military victory of Chanukah and the heroism of the Maccabee Kohanim are exciting aspects of this chag, but the story for them and for us doesn’t end there. The freedom they attained was used to counteract the Greek’s agenda, by infusing kedusha back into the Temple and by realigning the perception of ourselves, our practice and our heritage to fit with a mamlechet Kohanim v’goy kadosh.
Vayeishev
The Ramban and Ohr HaChaim both note the bravery of Yosef in approaching these two high ranking officers and asking them about their moods. Here is Yosef, a young slave, asking officers from Paraoh’s palace why they were sad. The question itself is somewhat puzzling; after all, they were in prison, which isn’t the most uplifting of places. The question almost seems rhetorical. Yosef, however, attune to their disposition, recognizes that something is particularly awry with these men, which he would discover is the product of their dreams from the previous night.
The Lebavitcher Rebbe (in a sicha given in 1974, summarized from Yiddish to Hebrew by Rav Yaakov Levi Ginsberg) points out, that perhaps even more impressive than Yosef’s courage, is that fact that Yosef even paid the slightest bit of attention to them and their degree of sadness. After all, Yoseph had suffered immense pain already in his life: He lost his mother at a young age, he was sold as a slave by his own brothers, hauled down to Egypt away from his beloved father, and imprisoned for a sin he had not committed. We would expect that such a person would be wallowing in his own pain, too consumed by personal sadness/frustration to be cognizant of another person’s pain.
And yet, Yosef is acutely aware of the pain of his cell-mates. Despite his own hardships, he remains attentive and sensitive to others, and inquires if there is any manner – just the slightest chance – that he can implement his G-d-given gifts to help another human being.
The Lebavitcher Rebbe explains that Yosef HaTzaddik possessed the quality of knowing that every individual’s personal mission, and the greatest happiness one can achieve, is to utilize the skills given to us by Hashem to improve the world and the lives of people around us; to wholeheartedly engage in the unique shlichus for which we were created. Yosef’s focus in life was unwavering, regardless of whether he was in a palace or a jail cell. He remained fixated on furthering his mission in life (which is how he thwarted Mrs. Potiphar’s advances), and ultimately, through Yad Hashem, his question of ‘why are you upset’ leads to his ascension to mishneh la’melech.
In the small confines of an Egyptian dungeon, Yosef notices someone in pain, gathers the courage to inquire, and uses the gifts of sensitivity and interpretive skill to eventually fulfill his Divine mission/shlichus in the most expansive manner possible.
Vayishlach
In the third passuk of Vayishlach, Yaakov sends a message to his brother Eisav:
The donkey is a reference to Mashiach ben Dovid; the ultimate Messianic king descended from Dovid HaMelech, who will arrive as “a pauper riding on a donkey” (Zechariah 9:9).
Why do we need two Messianic leaders? And why are they represented specifically by these two animals?
Rav Kook explained the concept of two Messiahs in a eulogy delivered after Theodore Hertzl’s death in 1904. Rav Kook articulates his views on the secular Zionist movement and the tragic rift between the religious and secular sectors of the Jewish people. Hashem created us, he says, with both body and soul. We have forces that maintain and strengthen the body, and forces that protect and develop the soul. Ideally, we should have a vigorous and resilient body together with a strong and healthy soul. The soul is meant to utilize and instruct the body to fulfill Hashem’s will in this world.
And the house of Jacob shall be a fire, and the house of Joseph a flame, and the house of Eisav for stubble, and they shall kindle in them, and devour them, and there shall not be any remaining of the house of Eisav, for the Lord has spoken.
Returning to Yaakov’s choice of ox and donkey, the powerful ox is used to plow the ground, preparing the area to be planted. This corresponds to the mission of Mashiach ben Yoseph — to defend the nation from enemies and clear the path for the revelation of Mashiach ben Dovid. (We also see this in the fact that the Mishkan — a preparation for the Temple — was established in Shiloh, in the territory of Yoseph, while the Temple itself was built in the inheritance of Judah, in Yerushalayim.)
The donkey, on the other hand, is a simple animal, used to carry produce from the field. This corresponds to the mission of Mashiach ben Dovid, who brings the final fruits of redemption.
Through his interactions with Eisav, Yaakov Avinu hints to his progeny what tools will be needed to ultimately defeat Eisav — physical strength through our human efforts, coupled with spiritual devotion and recognizing Hashem’s omnipotence. To quote an idea my shver once shared with me: “Building the Land with our hishtadlus, recognizing that every brick we lay, technological advancement and weapon developed or successfully used, is only through birchas Hashem, which comes from our ameilus b’torah, strict adherence to halacha, and our chumras in achdus and
Vayeitzei
The first passuk in Vayeitzei, which is the precursor to Yaakov’s famous dream, reads:
וַיֵּצֵא יַעֲקֹב מִבְּאֵר שָׁבַע וַיֵּלֶךְ חָרָנָה
The first passuk in the second perek of the parsha (the day after Yaakov’s dream):
וַיִּשָּׂא יַעֲקֹב רַגְלָיו וַיֵּלֶךְ אַרְצָה בְנֵי קֶדֶם
Why does the Torah include the descriptive phrasing of Yaakov lifting his legs? We know how a person walks – lifting one foot, putting it in front of the other, etc. – why does the Torah need to tell us how Yaakov was walking? It seems superfluous to tell us about the mechanic’s of Yaakov’s legs. The torah should have just said:
וילך יעקב ארצה בני קדם
Rashi 29:1, quotes Breishis Rabbah that explains that when Yaakov received the good news the night before that Hashem would be with him and protect him, he was so happy with the good news, and so: “nasah libo et raglav, v’na’aseh kal” – his heart “carried” his legs. He was no longer worried; he was calmer from hearing Hashem’s promise. To quote Rashi/Breishis Rabbah:
וישא יעקב רגליו: משנתבשר בשורה טובה שהובטח בשמירה, נשא לבו את רגליו ונעשה קל ללכת
We see that the Midrash offers a psychological and technical reason for Yaakov’s flight of foot i.e. the good news Yaakov received. He felt better, so he was able to move faster.
Rav Moshe Taragin suggests that an even broader perspective from Yaakov’s standpoint, which contributed to Yaakov’s enthusiastic travel:
Yaakov’s position as one of the Avos had just been confirmed – the dream and subsequent promise he was given by Hashem was the first time Hashem spoke with Yaakov since receiving/acquiring the bracha from Yitzchak. Following Hashem’s assurance, his journey, destiny and life’s vision became much clearer, and therefore he moved with greater energy and vigor.
In life we all have “projects”. The short-term projects are easier. We invest in them for a finite amount of time, and if we are successful, then that breeds confidence and motivation and encouragement to accomplish more. Investment, success, motivation, more investment, more success, etc. When we see the light at the end of the tunnel, it is much easier to run toward it.
But what about the long-term projects? The macro and grand projects that require more than just a few days or weeks to accomplish? Those endeavors require great discipline, but even more so, they require tremendous vision.
Running to meet our daily schedules, we may lose sight of the longer term and broader picture and can become distracted, dragging our feet, losing interest – we’re not dragging our feet on the project at hand, but we may be slowing down and losing traction on the larger goals.
One could actually say Yaakov actually passes too quickly at the beginning of Vayeitzei – he passes the makom of the Beit Hamikdash and has to return because he “missed” it:
וַיִּיקַץ יַעֲקֹב מִשְּׁנָתוֹ וַיֹּאמֶר אָכֵן יֵשׁ ה’ בַּמָּקוֹם הַזֶּה וְאָנֹכִי לֹא יָדָעְתִּי
The story immediately after “vayisah raglav” is the story of Yaakov removing the large stone from the well and meeting his future wife, Rachel. He is certainly excited to see Rachel, which gives him the strength to remove the stone, but in Rachel, he also sees a key element of his life’s path. He is excited to remove the stone, help her, and set in motion the path toward a life together.
Hashem promises Yaakov a legacy, and within hours finds his wife. Yitzchak, by contrast, had to wait around for Eliezer to come back with Rivkah; Yaakov finds his wife immediately once he gets the concrete vision of his future. He is able to walk quickly and remove heavy stones.
Discipline is then needed to endure 7 years of work for Lavan to marry Rachel, and then another 7 years after Lavan tricks him. Unquestionably, Yaakov needed this discipline to work all those years. But without the vision of marrying Rachel whom he felt was his zivug, he may have given up hope. He had a yearning to marry Rachel and fulfill his destiny, and allowed nothing to deter him. Yaakov demonstrated the need for both vision and discipline to be truly successful.
Yaakov’s ability to keep the grand picture squarely in focus, and the discipline to move him along his path, is the reason he had the vigor and the energy to walk swiftly, remove heavy stones, eventually marry his wife, and complete his destiny of being the last of the Avos.
Many seforim discuss the difference between Leah (representing nistar, dor hamidbar, shamayim, spirituality, lofty goals, Mashiach ben David), and Rachel (representing giluey, dor Eretz Yisrael, aretz, living in physical world but conquering the physical, Mashiach ben Yosef, etc.).
Yaakov, realizing the importance of joining both, marries Leah and Rachel. As we see from the quarreling amongst the sons of Yaakov, housing all 12 shvatim under one roof, and loving two wives, was no easy accomplishment. However, Yaakov had the vision to see it through. Yaakov, who dreams of a ladder entrenched in the ground but rising to the heavens, understood the duality required to properly serve Hashem and to successfully reach our own personal goals and destinies.