Our ancestors did.
Genesis 35:13 tells us, "God ascended from upon him, in the place where He had spoken with him." It’s a simple sentence, but it opens a window into a profound idea about the relationship between God and the patriarchs, like Abraham and Jacob.
Reish Lakish, a prominent rabbi of the Talmudic era, offers a striking interpretation: "The patriarchs are the Divine Chariot." What does that mean? It's a powerful image. Think of the Merkavah (מֶרְכָּבָה), the Divine Chariot, the vehicle of God's presence described by the prophet Ezekiel. Reish Lakish suggests that Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob weren't just righteous men, but actively bore the Divine Presence within them.
He doesn't just say it; he backs it up with scripture. "God ascended from upon Abraham" (Genesis 17:22). "God ascended from upon him" (Genesis 35:13, referring to Jacob). And remember Jacob's dream at Beit El? "The Lord stood over him" (Genesis 28:13). These verses, as Bereshit Rabbah points out, demonstrate that the Divine Presence, the Shekhinah (שְׁכִינָה), rested upon them. They were vessels for the Divine will, conduits for God's presence in the world.
But what happened after God spoke to Jacob? Genesis 35:14 tells us, "Jacob established a monument in the place where He spoke with him, a monument of stone. He poured a libation upon it, and poured oil upon it." He marked the spot, sanctified it. It wasn't just a quick splash of oil either. The text emphasizes that "he poured oil on it from the full mouth of a cruse." He poured a large stream of oil.
What's the significance of this abundance? Was it simply gratitude? Perhaps. But it also hints at the immense blessing, the overwhelming experience of having the Divine Presence revealed. It was an outpouring to match the outpouring from above. A physical manifestation of spiritual abundance. A statement that something truly significant had happened there.
It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What are the "monuments" we build in our own lives to commemorate those moments when we feel closest to the Divine? How do we "pour oil" – invest our energy, our resources, our very selves – into nurturing those connections? Do we offer a mere sprinkle, or do we open the floodgates of our hearts? As we find in Midrash Rabbah, even small actions, when done with intention and devotion, can become monumental.