Jacob certainly did.
We find him waking up, not with a stretch and a yawn, but in sheer terror. Why? Because of a dream, of course. A dream of a ladder stretching to the heavens, angels ascending and descending (Genesis 28:12). And God, right there at the top.
Now, Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer, a fascinating early medieval Midrash, picks up the story. It tells us that Jacob, jolted awake, cries out: "The house of the Holy One, blessed be He, is in this place!" He recognizes, with a dawning sense of awe, that he's standing on holy ground. “How dreadful is this place! This is none other but the house of God” (Genesis 28:17).
"Dreadful" here doesn't mean bad, of course. It means awe-inspiring, filled with a sense of the Divine presence so powerful it's almost overwhelming. Imagine the feeling!
And here's where it gets really interesting. The text goes on to say that praying in Jerusalem is like praying before the Throne of Glory itself. Why? Because, it explains, that very spot, Jerusalem, is the gate of heaven. Sha’ar ha-shamayim, the place where heaven and earth meet. Every time you offer a prayer in Jerusalem, it's as if the gates are wide open, your words ascending directly to the Divine. Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer emphasizes, "it is open to hear the prayers of Israel, as it is said, 'And this is the gate of heaven' (ibid.).”
It's a powerful image, isn't it? One that connects a single man's dream in the desert to the enduring holiness of a city, and the profound potential of prayer. So, the next time you pray, wherever you are, remember Jacob, remember the ladder, and remember that the gates of heaven are always open.