וַיִּפְגַּע בַּמָּקוֹם וַיָּלֶן שָׁם כִּי בָא הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ וַיִּקַּח מֵאַבְנֵי הַמָּקוֹם וַיָּשֶׂם מְרַאֲשֹׁתָיו וַיִּשְׁכַּב בַּמָּקוֹם הַהוּא
(בראשית כח:יא)
“וישכב במקום ההוא—and he (Yaakov) lay down in that place,” refers to Har HaBayis; the midrash in Pirkei D’Rebbi Eliezer (chapter 35) offers an intriguing explanation on this pasuk. In this narrative, Hashem tells Yaakov, “Your satchel contains bread, and there is water in the well; thus, you should rest here at Har HaBayis.” However, Yaakov noted that the sun had only partially set, indicating that it was not yet time for him to sleep. Responding to Yaakov’s hesitation, Hashem hastened the sun to set quicker. Observing the setting sun in the west, Yaakov then agreed to sleep.
This account illustrates a dialogue between Hashem and Yaakov at the site of the future Bais Hamikdash. Hashem encourages Yaakov to sleep there, assuring him of his provisions. But Yaakov—seeing that night has not fully arrived—initially resists, prompting Hashem to intervene and hasten the sunset. Upon witnessing that it was close to night, Yaakov acquiesces and sleeps.
The Zera Shimshon raises several questions regarding this midrash, about Yaakov at Har HaBayis:
- Why did Hashem mention Yaakov’s provisions of bread and water before suggesting he sleep there? What relevance do eating and drinking have to his decision to sleep?
- Why was it important for Hashem that Yaakov sleep at that specific location while it was still daylight?
- What were Yaakov’s reservations about sleeping there during the day, leading him not to immediately follow Hashem’s instruction?
- If Yaakov was reluctant to sleep during the day, why did he eventually go to sleep before sunset, when the sun was still visible in the west?
Zera Shimshon answers these questions based on the following texts: The Kli Yakar notes that Yaakov was deeply fearful of harm from Eisav. To alleviate this intense fear, Hashem showed Yaakov the Beis Hamikdash in a dream—providing three significant reasons to alleviate his worries.
The first reason the Beis Hamikdash provided reassurance to Yaakov in his fear of Eisav, is that the Beis Hamikdash is not just a physical location; it is a conduit for divine connection and intervention. It is a place where prayers are not only offered, but are also met with a heightened receptiveness by Hashem. Being in such a sacred space—where the barriers between the human and the divine are very thin—Yaakov could daven with conviction that his prayers would be heard more directly and powerfully, with the expectation of divine response. The assurance that his prayers at this holy site would be particularly successful had a significant factor in alleviating his anxiety stemming from the threats posed by Eisav.
The second point delves into a deeper interaction between Yaakov and Eisav, particularly focusing on the significance of the Beis Hamikdash’s construction. The Beis Hamikdash was built without any metal. This stands in stark contrast to Eisav’s strength, which is closely linked to metal—especially weapons made of iron, like it is written regarding Eisav, “And you shall live by the sword.” This difference is not just symbolic, it carries a deeper, almost alchemical meaning.
In much the same way that a base in chemistry neutralizes an acid, the Beis Hamikdash’s very nature—devoid of metal—is seen as having the ability to neutralize or counteract the power that Eisav derives from metal. This is not merely a physical or literal neutralization but a spiritual one. The Beis Hamikdash inherently opposes and diminishes the aggressive, warlike qualities symbolized by metal and embodied by Eisav.
For Yaakov, this understanding was immensely reassuring. Praying in such a place, he could effectively counterbalance and even overcome the threats and power represented by Eisav.
The third assurance Hashem gave to Yaakov is that the Beis Hamikdash diminishes the sunlight. The sun is a powerful symbol of Eisav’s strength. Eisav is often linked to the sun through his earthly nature and solar-based calendar, representing a form of power deeply rooted in the physical realm. Yet, the Beis Hamikdash—with its profound spiritual presence—overshadows even the natural elements, including the sun—like we see in the way the windows of the Bais Hamikdash were narrow on the inside and wide on the outside. The dimming of the sunlight by the Beis Hamikdash served as a divine reassurance—a promise that spiritual strength and Hashem’s protection are infinitely more potent than any threat posed by Eisav.
The second text that Zera Shimshon uses to explain the midrash is a midrash in the beginning of Bereishis that asks. Why is the moon initially described as one of the “large luminaries” (alongside the sun), but later called a “small luminary?” The midrash explains that the moon was diminished in size as a punishment for trespassing the sun’s territory. Despite being allowed to shine in the daytime, the moon still faced consequences for this overlap.
Drawing from this foundation, Zera Shimshon gives a fascinating explanation of the dialogue between Hashem and Yaakov:
Hashem’s intent was not solely to ease Yaakov’s fears, but mainly—and more importantly—to aid him in overcoming Eisav. Thus, Hashem directed Yaakov to sleep at the site of the Beis Hamikdash, which weakened the power of day—the source of Eisav’s strength—as well as to daven there for deliverance from Eisav. This was strategic, as davening at the Beis Hamikdash—a place that diminishes sunlight from which Eisav draws his power, and built without metal (counteracting Eisav’s strength), weakened Eisav’s influence.
Yet, Yaakov—often likened to the moon and following the lunar calendar—was hesitant. He feared that confronting Eisav or intruding into his territory could bring danger—similar to the way the moon was reduced in size when it ventured into the sun’s territory, at the time of creation.
To overcome this fear, Hashem reassured Yaakov by pointing out that he already partook in worldly pleasures like eating and drinking, which are under Eisav’s dominion. Essentially, Hashem conveyed to Yaakov that by engaging in these activities, he was already encroaching upon Eisav’s territory. Therefore, there was no added risk in davening to diminish Eisav’s power.
Yaakov was not convinced by this reasoning. He argued that his eating and drinking—essential for survival and, therefore, not a deliberate encroachment on Eisav’s domain—could not be compared to actively hastening the nightfall, which was optional. He believed that the necessity of eating and drinking—unavoidable for anyone living in this world—did not equate to willingly altering the natural course of day and night. In his view, the fact that everyone must eat and drink indicated that these were universal needs—not under Eisav’s exclusive control—unlike the deliberate act of changing the time of nightfall.
Hashem acknowledged Yaakov’s perspective and, thus, presented a different rationale to reassure him that there was no danger in sleeping while it was still day after the sun had mostly set. Grasping that this was a sign of the impending end of Eisav’s dominion, Yaakov’s fears of overstepping boundaries dissipated—leading him to comfortably lay down to rest.
Through Zera Shimshon’s explanation of the Pirkei D’Rebbi Eliezer, we understand the extent of Hashem’s care for Yaakov and his descendants. Although Eisav might seem to have the upper hand, Hashem’s concern for our well-being and victory is steadfast. With the backing of the sole Master of the Universe, Yaakov’s ultimate success is inevitable.
HaRav Shimshon Nachmani—author of Zera Shimshon—lived in Italy, about 300 years ago, in the time of the Or HaChaim HaKodesh. He had one child who died in his lifetime and in the preface, he promises that those who learn his sefarim, “ … will see children and grandchildren like the offshoots of an olive tree around your tables.”