Parshat Vayishlach4 min read

Jacob Buried the Idols Under an Oak and Held Creation Together

Jacob collects every foreign god and earring from his household before returning to Beth-El. The rabbis teach that his merit was the reason the world was made.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. Everything With an Image Had to Go
  2. The Oak Near Shechem
  3. The Dread That Followed the Burial
  4. Why the World Was Created

Everything With an Image Had to Go

Before the family could move toward Beth-El, Jacob gave the order. Hand over the foreign gods. Hand over the earrings. The Torah compresses three commands into one breath: remove the foreign gods, purify yourselves, change your garments. Jacob was leading his household away from Shechem, where blood had been spilled and the surrounding peoples now had a reason to gather against them. The road back to Beth-El was a holy road and he was not going to walk it with idols in the baggage.

Rabbi Yochanan, reading the command to change garments, pressed on it past the obvious. Later law in Mishnah Avodah Zarah identifies specific categories of forbidden objects: vessels marked with the sun, the moon, a dragon. Jacob was stricter. He examined the clothing itself. Any garment with any image could have been made as an act of worship. A woven pattern could carry a household's loyalty back toward the powers it thought it had left behind. Jacob did not rank the danger. He collected everything.

The Oak Near Shechem

He buried them. Under the oak that was near Shechem, Jacob put everything in the ground: the gods, the earrings, the objects with unclear loyalties. The burial was permanent. The text gives no indication they were recovered. Whatever household shrines and amulets had traveled with the family from Laban's house in Paddan-Aram, whatever Dinah's captors had given her, whatever the servants had acquired over twenty years in foreign territory -- it all went into the ground at Shechem before the family crossed toward the holy mountain.

The Dread That Followed the Burial

The surrounding peoples did not pursue them. The dread of God fell on the cities around them, and no one set out to avenge Shechem. The rabbis read this dread as inseparable from Jacob's act of burial. The family that was walking toward Beth-El was not carrying idols. The road was clean. And the protection that traveled with them reflected the condition of the household.

Why the World Was Created

The tradition went further than tactical advantage. The rabbis who compiled Bereshit Rabbah preserved a teaching that Jacob did not simply protect his household by burying the idols. Jacob was the reason creation itself was sustained. The world had been made for Jacob's sake -- meaning for the sake of the one who would refuse idolatry even when it was inconvenient, even when it meant examining every garment before a journey, even when the earrings could have been kept and melted down and no one outside the family would have known.

The foundations that sustain creation are not geological. They are moral. And the man who collected every image from his household before walking back to the house of God and buried them in the ground near the place where his sons had shed blood was, in the rabbis' accounting, one of those foundations.


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From the tradition

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The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Bereshit Rabbah 81:3Bereshit Rabbah

The verse Simple enough. But it's the rabbinic unpacking of this verse that's truly revealing.

The text immediately zeroes in on Jacob's instructions to his household. Rabbi Kruspedai, quoting Rabbi Yoḥanan, makes a rather bold statement: "We are not expert in the minutiae of idol worship, like Jacob our patriarch." What does that even mean? It suggests that Jacob possessed an almost unparalleled understanding of the subtle ways idolatry could manifest.

To illustrate this point, the text references Mishna Avoda Zara (3:3), which deals with laws concerning idolatry. The Mishna states that if you find vessels with images of the sun, moon, or a dragon, you should discard them in the Dead Sea. But Jacob, according to Rabbi Yoḥanan, went even further! He insisted that his household change their garments, disposing of any clothing with any images whatsoever. The fear? That these garments might have been made for idolatrous purposes. It wasn't just about avoiding obvious idols; it was about eliminating anything that could even remotely be associated with idolatry. Rabbi Yoḥanan even goes so far as to say, "All garments are included in the category of idols," deriving this from Jacob's actions. This seems to contradict the relatively more lenient stance of the Mishna. Were they really that concerned about the influence of idolatry? Absolutely.

Let's move on to (Genesis 35:4): "They gave to Jacob all the foreign gods that were in their possession, and the rings that were in their ears, and Jacob interred them beneath the terebinth that is near Shekhem." This verse leads us to a rather dramatic anecdote.

Rabbi Yishmael ben Rabbi Yosei, a real historical figure, was on his way to pray in Jerusalem. He encountered a Samaritan near Mount Gerizim – a mountain considered sacred by the Samaritans, who had their own version of Israelite religion. The Samaritan questioned why Rabbi Yishmael was going to Jerusalem, suggesting that it would be preferable to pray on Mount Gerizim, which he called a "blessed mountain," rather than in the "ruins" of Jerusalem. Remember, the Samaritans had a long and complicated relationship with the Jews of Jerusalem, often marked by religious and political rivalry.

Rabbi Yishmael's response is… well, let's just say it's colorful. He compares the Samaritan to "a dog that is eager for a carcass." Ouch! Why such a harsh comparison? Because, according to Rabbi Yishmael, the Samaritans knew that idols were buried under Mount Gerizim – specifically, the idols that Jacob had interred! That's why they were so eager to have him pray there.

The story doesn't end there. The Samaritans, suspecting that Rabbi Yishmael was planning to steal the idols, decided to kill him! He barely escaped with his life, fleeing in the night. This little story, tucked within the larger narrative, reveals the intense, sometimes violent, religious tensions of the time. It also emphasizes the belief that these buried idols still held power, even after all that time.

So what can we take away from this? It's clear that for Jacob, and later for the rabbis interpreting his actions, the fight against idolatry was not just a theological concept; it was a constant, vigilant struggle. It required not only the rejection of overt idols but also a deep awareness of the subtle ways idolatrous influences could creep into daily life. And the story of Rabbi Yishmael ben Rabbi Yosei reminds us that these beliefs could have very real, and very dangerous, consequences.

It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What "idols" – not necessarily literal statues, but perhaps values, beliefs, or attachments – do we unwittingly harbor in our own lives today? And what would it take for us to recognize them, confront them, and bury them deep beneath the metaphorical terebinth of our own Shekhems?

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Bereshit Rabbah 81:4Bereshit Rabbah

Jewish tradition tells us that the descendants of Jacob experienced just that – divine protection in the face of overwhelming odds. to a passage from Bereshit Rabbah (81), a classic collection of rabbinic interpretations of the Book of Genesis. The verse

What does this really mean?

Rabbi Shmuel offers a fascinating insight. He points out that this wasn't a one-time event. Three times, he says, idolaters gathered with the intent of attacking Jacob’s children – that is, the Israelites. And each time, HaShem, the Holy One blessed be He, intervened. He didn’t allow the attacks to happen. That "dread of God" mentioned in Genesis? It wasn't just a feeling; it was a palpable force, a divine deterrent.

The first instance, of course, is right there in (Genesis 35:5), as the family is traveling.

But Rabbi Shmuel doesn't stop there. He finds echoes of this divine protection in later stories too. The second instance he finds in the days of Yehonatan, in I (Samuel 14:15): "The very ground trembled, and there was a God-inspired terror." Can you imagine that? Not just fear, but a God-inspired terror? That's power.

And the third time? It was in the days of Joshua. The surrounding nations sought to pursue Joshua and the Israelites (as we see in (Joshua 11:1-5)), but again, the Holy One prevented them. Where did they gather? In Ḥatzor.

There's a curious detail here. (Joshua 11:13) tells us: "But all the cities that stood intact, Israel did not burn them; Joshua burned only Ḥatzor alone." Why just Ḥatzor?

Rabbi Elazar offers an explanation: it was based on a tradition. A command, passed down from HaShem to Moses, and then from Moses to Joshua. According to Rabbi Elazar, the burning of Ḥatzor wasn't just a strategic military decision; it was an act of obedience to a divine decree. It wasn't simply because the nations gathered there to attack Israel, but because Joshua had been commanded to do so.

Now, let's shift our focus slightly. The next verse, (Genesis 35:6), states: "Jacob came to Luz, which is in the land of Canaan, it is Beit El; he and all the people who were with him."

The text then comments on Jacob arriving at Luz. What’s so special about this place name, Luz?

The Rabbis play on the word, connecting it to the Hebrew word for almond. They say that anyone who enters Luz blossoms with mitzvot (commandments) and good deeds, just like an almond tree. Mitzvot (מצוות) are commandments, or good deeds.

So, what are we left with? A powerful image of divine protection, shielding Jacob’s descendants not once, but three times. And a reminder that even a place name can hold a deeper meaning, a promise of growth and goodness.

It makes you wonder, doesn't it? Where in our own lives might we be experiencing that "dread of God" working on our behalf, even when we can't see it? Where might we find our own Luz, a place where we can blossom and grow?

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Vayikra Rabbah 36:4Vayikra Rabbah

The ancient rabbis grappled with these very questions, and their answers, preserved in texts like Vayikra Rabbah, are both surprising and deeply inspiring. to one fascinating passage from Vayikra Rabbah 36.

" This isn't just a sentimental promise. It's a foundation of creation itself. Rabbi Pinḥas, quoting Rabbi Reuven, takes this idea to a breathtaking level. God tells the world, “Jacob created you and Jacob fashioned you.” It’s a mind-bending thought, isn't it? That the patriarch Jacob, the father of the twelve tribes, somehow played a direct role in the very formation of existence! The verse cited is (Isaiah 43:1), "Your Creator, Jacob, and your Fashioner, Israel."

It doesn't stop there. Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin, citing Rabbi Levi, adds another layer: the mighty behemoth, that legendary creature destined to be served at the feast of the righteous in the World to Come, was created solely through the merit of Jacob! It's all in (Job 40:15): "Behold now the behemoth that I made with you.” With you – implying a specific, significant individual.

Rabbi Yehoshua ben Rabbi Neḥemya, in the name of Rabbi Ḥanina ben Rabbi Yitzḥak, goes even further. He says that the heavens and the earth themselves were created thanks to Jacob! (Psalm 78:5) says, "He set a testimony in Jacob," and this "testimony," they argue, refers to none other than the cosmos itself, just as (Deuteronomy 30:19) says, “I call today to the heavens and the earth to bear witness to you.”

These rabbis aren't alone in this line of thinking. Rabbi Berekhya suggests that the heavens and earth were created thanks to Israel, citing (Genesis 1:1) ("In the beginning [bereshit], the Lord created [the heavens and the earth]") and connecting reshit, "beginning," to Israel, as in (Jeremiah 2:3): "Israel is sacred to the Lord, the first [reshit] of His crop.”

Rabbi Aḥa even proposes that the whole thing happened because of Moses, pointing to (Deuteronomy 33:21): "He saw the first [reshit] for himself." And Rabbi Abbahu simply states that everything was created in Jacob's merit, referencing (Jeremiah 10:16): "Not like these is the Portion of Jacob; for He is the fashioner of everything."

So, what’s going on here? Are they saying Jacob literally hammered the stars into place? Not exactly. It's about the merit, the inherent righteousness and potential embodied in these key figures. They represent the covenant, the promise of a relationship between God and humanity.

This idea extends even to Abraham. Rabbi Berekhya and Rabbi Levi, in the name of Rabbi Shmuel bar Naḥman, say that Abraham was saved from Nimrod's fiery furnace because God foresaw Jacob's future greatness. It's like a ruler sparing someone because their future daughter will marry the king. (Isaiah 29:22) says, "Therefore, so says the Lord to the house of Jacob, who redeemed Abraham.”

The rabbis even suggest that Abraham himself was created for Jacob's sake! (Genesis 18:19) states, "For I know him, so that he shall command his children and his household after him, and they will observe the way of the Lord, to perform righteousness and justice." And where do we find true righteousness and justice? In Jacob, as (Psalm 99:4) declares: "You wrought justice and righteousness in Jacob.”

What does this all mean for us? It's a reminder that we're all part of something bigger, a cosmic narrative that stretches back to the very beginning. Our actions, our choices, ripple outwards, influencing not just our own lives but the world around us.

The rabbis of the Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) invite us to see ourselves as active participants in creation, carrying forward the legacy of Jacob, Abraham, Moses, and all those who strive for righteousness and justice. We, too, have the potential to shape the world through our deeds, to contribute to the ongoing story of creation. It's a profound and humbling thought, isn't it?

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