Listening with Yaakov

Vayetzei By :  Naomi Kalish Harold and Carole Wolfe Director of the Center for Pastoral Education; Assistant Professor of Pastoral Education Posted On Nov 24, 2023 / 5784 | Torah Commentary
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A Thanksgiving meal, or any family gathering, in our time of divisive politics and social polarization can be a source of great anxiety. How will we remain civil to those with whom we profoundly disagree? Parashat Veyetzei provides us with a model of how one of our ancestors, Yaakov, managed conflict with a family member and was able to move toward reconciliation.

A crucial aspect of reconciliation and healing is the willingness to listen and, through the process of listening, to make space for the uniqueness of the other person. Jonathan Shay, MD, a clinical psychiatrist who has worked extensively with veterans, writes that 鈥渉ealing from trauma depends upon communalization of the trauma鈥攂eing able safely to tell the story to someone who is listening and who can be trusted to retell it truthfully to others in the community.鈥[1] Listening is a crucial component of the necessary trust-building; he continues, 鈥渟o before analyzing, before classifying, before thinking, before trying to do anything鈥攚e should listen.鈥 Often, we listen to respond instead of to understand. Shay writes that often our 鈥渓istening deteriorates into intellectual sorting鈥 and this breaks trust. What can Yaakov teach us about listening that paves the way toward peace?

The parashah begins with Yaakov fleeing from his brother Esav, from whom he had stolen the blessing. Following his mother鈥檚 instruction, Yaakov seeks refuge in his uncle Lavan鈥檚 home. Now years after his deception, Yaakov has his own humbling experience of being tricked. Lavan repeatedly changes the terms of agreement for both Yaakov鈥檚 marriage and his employment, manipulating Yaakov into greater service to him.

Eventually Yaakov makes a unilateral decision to flee with his household from Lavan. When an incensed Lavan, pursues him, Yaakov is forced to stop and engage his adversary. This encounter could have taken many different forms including physical violence. Instead, the story culminates with a pact leading to peace between Yaakov and Lavan. Embedded in the story of Yaakov and Lavan is a process of interpersonal trust-building, negotiation, assertion, and accommodation.

Lavan speaks first and has much to say. He begins with an accusation: 鈥淲hat did you mean by keeping me in the dark and carrying off my daughters like captives of the sword[ . . . ]? Why did you flee in secrecy and mislead me and not tell me? . . . 鈥 (Gen. 31: 26-27). He fashions himself as the hero who would have sent Yaakov off with a festive meal, music, and kisses goodbye (a self-portrayal inconsistent with the fourteen years of deception and manipulation during which he prevented Yaakov from leaving).

How does Yaakov respond? What do we do when faced with someone who makes assertions we think are absurd and self-serving? First, Yaakov listens. This must have been a difficult process. He surely would have objected to Lavan鈥檚 portrayal of the events. Yaakov hears Lavan鈥檚 grievances and surely does not agree with much of the content of what he says, but his listening builds enough trust that they are able to resolve their differences civilly.

Israeli peace activist Rav Hanan Schlessinger identifies listening as an essential component in reconciliation:

We have to be able to reach across the divides and listen. We even have to listen when it looks like the other side doesn鈥檛 want to listen. [ . . . ] You should have the strength of character to enter into a dialogue in which at the first meeting or two they only yell at you. [ . . . ] Because very often, not always, after they yell and they see that you listen, you鈥檙e willing to acknowledge some of their grievances, sometimes they calm down and they鈥檙e willing to listen to you.[2]  

What was significant in Yaakov鈥檚 participation was not his arguments, but that he gave Lavan the opportunity to speak his mind and be heard. When he did respond, it was with what is sometimes referred to as an 鈥淚鈥 statement: 鈥淚 was afraid because I thought you would take your daughters from me by force鈥 (Gen. 31:31). The two men go back and forth and, as Rav Schlessinger describes often happens the experience of listening draws them closer together and maximizes their ability to make a pact. After exhausting his need to speak his mind, Lavan shifts his posture and says to Yaakov, 鈥淐ome, then, let us make a pact, you and I, that there may be a witness between you and me鈥 (Gen. 31:44).

The process of peacebuilding becomes formalized through language and ritual. Following Lavan鈥檚 proposal, Yaakov and his household create a pillar of stones, after which the Torah tells us:

讜址讬执旨拽职专指讗志诇郑讜止 诇指讘指謹谉 讬职讙址謻专 砖指讉讛植讚讜旨转指謶讗 讜职讬址纸注植拽止謹讘 拽指芝专指讗 诇謻讜止 讙址旨诇职注值纸讚變

Laban named it Yegar-sahadutha, and Yaakov named it Gal-ed.

Gen. 31:47

Traditional commentators are fascinated by the different names given for this pillar by Lavan and Yaakov. As Rashi explains, these phrases are, respectively, the Aramaic and Hebrew words for 鈥淢ound of Witness.鈥 鈥淵egar-sahadutha” is also the first appearance of Aramaic in the Torah. We see a process of translation and interpretation among the two men as they navigate the use of two languages and ultimately two cultures and worldviews. Yaakov translates Lavan鈥檚 Aramaic term, Yegar-sahaduta, into Hebrew. Lavan then offers in Hebrew鈥攊n Yaakov鈥檚 language鈥攁n explanation of the meaning of the name based on its literal meaning: 鈥淭his mound is a witness between you and me this day鈥 (Gen. 31:48). Each of them is navigating the process of reconciliation through their native tongue and translation to the other鈥檚 language.

The challenge of making space for and tolerating both men鈥檚 worldviews is intensified by their inclusion of the religious language of prayer. When Lavan offers his interpretation of the pillar鈥檚 symbolism, he concludes with prayer:

讗直诇止讛值吱讬 讗址讘职专指讛指譁诐 讜值纸讗诇止讛值证讬 谞指讞讜止专謾 讬执砖职讈驻职旨讟郑讜旨 讘值讬谞值謹讬谞讜旨 讗直诇止讛值謻讬 讗植讘执讬讛侄謶诐 讜址讬执旨砖指旨讈讘址郑注 讬址注植拽止謹讘 讘职旨驻址謻讞址讚 讗指讘执芝讬讜 讬执爪职讞指纸拽變

 鈥淢ay the God of Abraham鈥檚 [house] and the god of Nahor鈥檚 [house] judge between us.鈥

The biblical author adds that these refer to Yaakov and Lavan鈥檚 ancestral deities. Interestingly, Lavan references Yaakov鈥檚 grandfather, but he goes one generation farther back in invoking his ancestry, to Terach, who was a common ancestor to both of them. As Sforno explains, 鈥淗e had chosen Nachor to underline that Nachor鈥檚 god was also the god of Terach, who was the father of both Avraham and Nachor.鈥 Lavan likely anticipated that Yaakov would be uncomfortable with invoking the deity of an idolator, and so he chooses their common ancestor as a way of establishing common ground. Yaakov does indeed seem uncomfortable: the Torah tells us that 鈥淵aakov [then] swore by the Fear of his father Yitzhak鈥檚 [house]鈥 (31:53). As Sforno explains, Yaakov chose someone who was not the son of Terach to make certain it was understood that his oath was only to the God of Yitzhak.

Yet while prayer can be an area of divisiveness, it can also create a meeting ground for people from diverse backgrounds with contentious relationships. Chaplains frequently pray with people from religious backgrounds different from their own. Without being syncretistic, they work with the recipients of their care to find either common language, or they make space for the other to pray while being present and bearing witness to the other at prayer. Community clergy and religious leaders also often come together at times of mutual interest鈥攕uch as Thanksgiving services鈥攐r to stand with one another during difficulties. In the presence of one another, they often offer prayers or reflections that can vary greatly in language, beliefs, and form. These programs are often not fully comfortable, just as listening is not always comfortable. But both experiences can create the kinds of relationships that build trust, a most basic component of reconciliation.

The publication and distribution of the 91快播 Commentary are made possible by a generous grant from Rita Dee (锄鈥漧) and Harold Hassenfeld (锄鈥漧).   


[1] Jonathan Shay, Achilles in Vietnam: Combat Trauma and the Undoing of Character. NY: Simon and Schuster, 1995.

[2] 鈥淧eacemakers in a Time of War鈥 Forum at Temple Beth-El, Richmond Virginia. November 12, 2023. https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=285370747828581