Holding Even God Accountable (Vayeitzei)

This week’s Torah portion, Vayeitzei, invites us into a profound and transformative moment—a shift in human agency. As Jacob dreams with his head upon a stone, he sees a ladder stretching between Earth and Heaven, with angels ascending and descending. God stands beside him and speaks words of unparalleled reassurance:

I am with you. I will protect you wherever you go and will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have fulfilled what I have promised you. (Gen. 28:15)

For Jacob, who has fled his home, deceived his father, and fears for his life, these words must have felt like being cradled by the Divine. Vulnerable and alone, Jacob is offered the ultimate promise: safety, presence, and return.

Yet Jacob’s response is startling. Instead of simple gratitude, Jacob sets conditions:

If You will be with me and protect me on my journey, and if You give me food to eat and clothes to wear, and if I return safely to my father’s house—then You will be my God. (Gen. 28:20-21)

Jacob does not passively accept this promise. Instead, he models a radical kind of faith, one that holds God accountable. His posture is neither rebellious nor dismissive—it is bold and filled with expectation. Jacob demands action, transformation, and fulfillment of the promise before he fully commits.

This interaction resonates deeply today, particularly in a world where divine promises often feel distant amid human suffering. We stand, 426 days into a brutal conflict, with hostages still held in tunnels and lives shattered. Promises of protection, safety, and redemption feel achingly incomplete. And yet, this moment demands something of us—something Jacob teaches: trust but verify.

Our tradition doesn’t ask us to wait passively for miracles. The Talmud reminds us, “Do not rely on miracles. (TB Pesachim 64b: “ולא סמכינן אניסא”)” Instead, we are called to partner with the Divine, to act boldly, to be agents of holy promises. As Jacob embodies this audacious agency, so too must we.

In the early days of Zionism, this spirit burned brightly. After 2,000 years of waiting for a messianic redemption, the Zionist pioneers refused to wait any longer. They declared: We will not rely on miracles for safety and dignity. This posture—rooted in painful determination and human agency—was itself an act of holiness, later embraced even by religious leaders who had once affirmed the religious notion of waiting for God to send the Messiah.

Jacob’s ladder reminds us that while the connection between Earth and Heaven exists, it is not static. Angels move between realms, and so must we. Our faith must be dynamic, active, and accountable. As descendants of Jacob, renamed Israel—the one who wrestles—we inherit not only his blessings but his insistence that promises be fulfilled.

Friends, on this 426th day of war since October 7, 2023, as we sing and pray, let us also act. Let us hold our leaders accountable—not only to their words of promise but to the values they are meant to embody. Let us demand safety, dignity, and justice for all who are vulnerable. And let us remember that while God’s promises inspire us, it is our responsibility to help fulfill them.

May we be bold. May we be agents of blessing. And may we see a day when all who are held captive return home, speedily and safely. It is far past time.

Sing with me, pray with me—and then, let us act to make real: Bring Them Home Now!