Abraham, our patriarch, knew that feeling. In Genesis 15:2, he cries out, "My Lord God, what will You give me, seeing that I go childless, and the one who has charge of my house is Damascus Eliezer?"
It's a poignant moment. Abraham has everything… except the one thing that truly matters to him: an heir. But what’s fascinating is not just the question itself, but the audacity behind it. According to Rabbi Yonatan, Abraham is in good company when he dares to ask God for something.
Rabbi Yonatan points out that there are three figures in the Tanakh – the Hebrew Bible – who were explicitly told to “make a request.” First, there's Solomon, the wisest of all men. Remember the story? "In Gibeon the Lord appeared to Solomon in a dream at night, and God said: Request what I shall give you" (I Kings 3:5). Imagine that kind of divine invitation!
Then there's Ahaz, a king of Judah, though not exactly known for his righteousness. Yet, even he gets the offer: "Request a sign for yourself from the Lord" (Isaiah 7:11). It's a moment of potential redemption, a chance to connect with the Divine.
And finally, Rabbi Yonatan includes the messianic king, a figure of future hope and redemption. Of him, it is written: “Ask of Me, and I will make the nations your heritage” (Psalms 2:8).
But here’s where it gets even more interesting. Rabbi Berekhya and Rabbi Aḥa, citing Rabbi Shmuel, add two more names to the list from the realm of aggada – the storytelling portion of the Talmud that fleshes out Biblical narratives. They suggest that both Abraham and Jacob were also implicitly invited to ask. : Abraham wouldn't have pleaded "My Lord God, what will You give me?" unless God had already, in some unspoken way, given him permission to ask. It’s as if there was an unspoken invitation hanging in the air.
Similarly, consider Jacob. Remember his famous vow at Bethel? "Everything that You will give me I will tithe to You" (Genesis 28:22). Rabbi Berekhya and Rabbi Aḥa argue that he wouldn't have made such a bold promise unless God had first signaled, "Ask, and I will give."
So, what does this all mean? It means that sometimes, the biggest blessings come when we dare to ask, when we dare to voice our deepest desires and needs to the Divine. It suggests that God isn't just a distant observer, but an active participant in our lives, waiting for us to engage in a dialogue, a conversation.
And maybe, just maybe, the invitation to "make a request" is always there, hovering just beneath the surface, waiting for us to have the courage to speak up. Are we listening? Are we asking?