03 Dec VAYETZEI: THE BATTLE OF THE STONES IF YOU LOSE, I ALSO LOSE

The Yeshiva decided to
field a rowing team.
Unfortunately, they
lost race after race.
They practiced for
hours every day but
never managed to
come in any better than

dead last.
The Rosh Yeshiva (the Yeshiva head) finally
decided to send Yankel to spy on the Harvard
team. So Yankel schlepped off to Cambridge
and hid in the bulrushes of the Charles River,
from where he carefully watched the Harvard
team as they practiced.
Yankel returned to Yeshiva, and announced: “I
have figured out their secret.”
“What? Tell us,” they all wanted to know.
“We should have eight guys rowing and only
one guy shouting.”
The Quarrel
The rabbis in the Talmud focus on an apparent
grammatical inconsistency in parshat Vayeitzei.
When Yaakov journeys from Beer Sheva to
Charan, stopping on the way to rest for the
night, the Torah tells us, “He took from the
stones of the place, arranged them around his
head, and lay down to rest.”
But in the morning when he awakes, we read a
slightly different story: “Yaakov arose early in

the morning, and took the stone he placed
around his head and set it up as a pillar.”
First we read of “stones,” in the plural; then we
read of “the stone,” in the singular. Which one
was it? Did Yaakov use a single stone or did he
employ many stones?
A lovely Talmudic tradition, laden with
profound symbolism, answers the question
thus: Yaakov indeed took several stones. The
stones began quarreling, each one saying,
“Upon me shall this righteous person rest his
head.” So G-d combined them all into one
stone, and the quarreling ceased. Hence, when
Yaakov awoke, we read, he “took the stone” in
the singular, since all the stones became one.
What is the symbolism behind this imagery?
What is the meaning of stones quarreling with
each other and then reaching a state of peace by
congealing into one?
One more obvious question: How did the
merging of diverse stones into a single entity
satisfy their complaint, “Upon me shall this
righteous person rest his head?” Even after the
stones congealed into a single large stone, the
head of Yaakov still lie only on one part of the
stone. (Your mattress is made of one piece, yet
your head can only lie on one particular space
on your mattress). So why didn’t the other parts
of the stone (Yaakov’s “mattress”) still lament
that Yaakov’s head is not lying on them?

We Are One
The Lubavitcher Rebbe once explained it with
moving simplicity and eloquence:
The fighting between the stones was not caused
because each one wanted the tzaddik’s (the
righteous man’s) head; it was because they
were separate stones. When the stones become
one, the fighting ceases, because when you feel
one with the other, you don’t mind if the head
of the righteous one rests upon him. His victory
is your victory; his loss is your loss. because
you are one.
The episode with the stones, then, reflects a
profound spiritual truth about human
relationships. Much conflict — in families,
communities, shuls, organizations,
corporations, and movements — stem from
everyone’s fear that someone else will end up
with the “head,” and you will be “thrown under
the buss.”
But we can view each other in two distinct
ways: as “diverse stones” and as a “single
stone.” Both are valid perspectives, fair
interpretations of reality. The first is superficial;
the second demands profounder reflection and
sensitivity. Superficially, we are indeed
separate. You are you; I am I. We are strangers.
I want the head; you want the head. So we
quarrel.
On a deeper level, though, we are one. The
universe, humanity, the Jewish people —
constitute a single organism. On this level, we
are truly part of one essence. Then, I do not
mind if you get the head, because you and I
are one.
It is hard for many people to create room for
another, and let them shine brightly. We are
scared that they might “get the head” and we
will end up with the leg. Some of us spend
years to ensure that others don’t succeed.
They feel that their success necessitates the
failure of others.
What is needed is a broadening of
consciousness; a cleansing of perception, a
gaze into the mystical interrelatedness of all
of us. Then I will not only allow, but will
celebrate, your emergence in full splendor.
Your success will not hinder mine, because
we are one. Instead of thinking how can I cut
you down I ought to think: How can I help
you reach your ultimate success? Different
“stones” may need to have different positions,
yet here is no room for abuse, manipulation,
back-stabbing, mistreatment and exploitation,
because we are one.
Yaakov, the father of all Israel, who
encompassed within himself the souls of all
of his children, inspired this unity within the
“stones” around him. Initially, the stones
operated on a superficial level of
consciousness, thus quarreling who will get
to lie under Yaakov’s head. But Yaakov
inspired in them a deeper consciousness,
allowing them for that night to see themselves
as a single stone, even while they were in
different positions.
In our night of nights, we need Yaakov’s who
know how to inspire the stones around them
with this state of consciousness.

A Tale of Three Matzahs
A story (related by my friend Dr. Yisroel
Suskind):
Rabbi Eliezer Zusha Portugal (1896-1982), the
Skulener Rebbe, was a Chassidic master from a
small town, Sculeni, in northeastern Romania.
Toward the end of the Second World War, in
March of 1945, he found himself along with
other holocaust survivors and displaced
persons, in the Russian-governed town of
Czernovitz, Bukovina. (The Russian army
liberated Bukovina in April 1944 and completed
the expulsion of the Nazi’s from most of
Eastern Europe by January 1945, at which time
the Russians entered Budapest, Hungary.)
Passover, beginning March 29th, would soon
be upon them. Some Passover foodstuffs might
well be provided by charitable organizations.
Nonetheless, the Skulener Rebbe sought to

obtain wheat that he could bake into properly-
guarded and traditionally baked matzah.

Despite the oppressive economic situation of
the Jews, he was able to bake a limited number
of these matzahs. He sent word to other
Chassidic leaders in the area who would
conduct larger Passover seders, offering each
of them no more than three matzahs.
One week before Passover, Rabbi Moshe
Hager, the son of the Seret-Vizhnitzer Rebbe,
came for the matzahs that had been offered to
his father, Rabbi Boruch Hager. After being
handed the allotted 3 matzahs, he said to the
Skulener Rebbe: “I know that you sent word
that you could give only three matzahs, but
nonetheless my father, the Seret-Vizhnitzer
Rebbe, told me to tell you that he must have six
matzahs”. The Skulener Rebbe was unhappy
to part with this precious food that was so
scarce and was in high demand by so many
other Jews. But he felt that he had no choice but
to honor the request, albeit reluctantly.
On the day before Passover, Rabbi Moshe
Hager returned to the Skulener Rebbe. “What
can I do for you?” asked the Skulener Rebbe.
Rabbi Moshe answered, “I want to return three
of the matzah’s to you”.
“I don’t understand”, replied the Skulener, ”I
thought your father absolutely had to have six
matzahs?”
“My father said to ask whether you had saved
any of the matzah for yourself?”
Embarrassed, the Skulener Rebbe replied,
“How could I, when so many others needed
matza for Passover?”
“My father assumed that this would happen”,
explained Rabbi Moshe. “That is why he
requested an extra three matzahs to hold them
for you.”
This is how you behave when you are “one
stone.” This is what we call living a life of
dignity, where you are really able to be there for
another human being.