קָטֹנְתִּי מִכֹּל הַחֲסָדִים וּמִכׇּל הָאֱמֶת אֲשֶׁר עָשִׂיתָ אֶת עַבְדֶּךָ כִּי בְמַקְלִי עָבַרְתִּי אֶת הַיַּרְדֵּן הַזֶּה וְעַתָּה הָיִיתִי לִשְׁנֵי מַחֲנוֹת
הַצִּילֵנִי נָא מִיַּד אָחִי מִיַּד עֵשָׂו כִּי יָרֵא אָנֹכִי אֹתוֹ פֶּן יָבוֹא וְהִכַּנִי אֵם עַל בָּנִים
וְאַתָּה אָמַרְתָּ הֵיטֵב אֵיטִיב עִמָּךְ וְשַׂמְתִּי אֶת זַרְעֲךָ כְּחוֹל הַיָּם אֲשֶׁר לֹא יִסָּפֵר מֵרֹב.
I want to first focus on a detail in Yaakov's tefilah, the micro, the prat, and then look at the bigger picture, the klal, the macro.
Rashi comments
כי במקלי – לא היה עמי לא כסף ולא זהב ולא מקנה אלא מקלי לבדו.
ומדרש אגדה: נתן מקלו בירדן ונבקע הירדן.
Whenever Rashi quotes two interpretations, esp if one is pshat and one is derash, the Sifsei Chachamim wants to know why. The S.C.'s usual methodology is to find plusses and minuses in each interpretation; aware of the shortcomings of one reading, Rashi offers another possibility.
S.C. explains why Rashi here was not satisfied with pshat and needed to resort to derash:
ומדרש אגדה נתן מקלו בירדן ונבקע הירדן. ולפי זה עשה לי שתי טובות אחד שנבקע לו הירדן והשני ב׳ מחנות משא״כ לפשוטו אין כאן אלא חסד אחד:
The word חֲסָדִים is plural. If the pasuk means that Yaakov went from a penniless pauper who had nothing other than his staff to a wealthy man, that is only one chessed, not multiple chassadim. Therefore, Rashi quotes the derash. The reference to Yaakov's staff has nothing to do with his wealth, but rather refers to a miraculous splitting of the river that Yaakov did on his way to Lavan's house. וְעַתָּה הָיִיתִי לִשְׁנֵי מַחֲנוֹת is a second chessed of having a large and well off family.
If S.C. is correct and Rashi's point is that חֲסָדִים has to refer to multiple chassadim, it begs the question of why the only two items on the list are the miracle of the river splitting, which occurred more than two decades ago when Yaakov was first en route to Lavan's house, and the ב׳ מחנות, his large family of the present moment. Nothing else happened in between? There are no other chassadim that Yaakov could think of to list between the far past and the immediate present?!
Zooming out to look at the tefilah as a whole, Yaakov ends his prayer with a justification as to why G-d should help him: "You, G-d, promised שַׂמְתִּי אֶת זַרְעֲךָ כְּחוֹל הַיָּם אֲשֶׁר לֹא יִסָּפֵר מֵרֹב, and therefore you owe me this protection." We could discuss why Yaakov felt the need to offer any justification at all -- aren't we supposed to ask G-d for help when we are in danger? -- but let's leave that aside and look at the justification itself. It seems flimsey, and is undermined by Yaakov's own actions. Yaakov had divided his camp in two. וַיֹּאמֶר אִם יָבוֹא עֵשָׂו אֶל הַמַּחֲנֶה הָאַחַת וְהִכָּהוּ וְהָיָה הַמַּחֲנֶה הַנִּשְׁאָר לִפְלֵיטָה In this way if Eisav attacked one part, the other could escape. If so, the promise of שַׂמְתִּי אֶת זַרְעֲךָ כְּחוֹל הַיָּם אֲשֶׁר לֹא יִסָּפֵר מֵרֹב would seem to be in no danger of being abrogated. Even if one part of the camp could not escape, the other part could, and Hashem's promise could be fulfilled through the survivors. As Netziv puts it:
ותו, מה זו הוכחה שלא יהרוג חלק מהבנים ותתקיים הברכה בהנשאר.
I saw a thought in the Arugas haBosem here that addresses these issues and I said to myself that even if you don't think it's pshat in the pasuk, it so hit the nail right on the head about how your perspective shifts as you get older. Do ever find yourself looking back and wishing you could recapture something of how you were in the past? Don't get me wrong -- I think you do get wiser as you get older, among other advantages to age. But there is something important lost as well, and I don't just mean, using myself as an example, things like no longer being able to throw a baseball the same way or stay up late without feeling tired the next day, or other such loss of physical ability or stamina. We are coming up to the sugya of Chanukah where the gemara itself (Shabbos 22b) refers to the advantage of "girsa d'yankusa." When you learn things when you are young, they stick in your head better. Aside from loss of mental sharpness, I think more importantly one's perspective changes. There is also a loss of idealism (again, speaking for myself only) as you age. You age you start to see every issue in shades of grey rather than black and white, which is a good thing most of the time, but sometimes things really are just plain and simple black and white. I can go on and give other examples, but I'm sure every person can make his own similar, personal list.
The Yaakov Avinu who in our parsha returns home is not the same Yaakov Avinu who left years earlier, and not just because he is now wealthy and has a huge family. His attitude has shifted as well. Yaakov is now a man making cheshbonos. He strategizes before his meeting with Eisav. He sends gifts, he sends messengers, and most importantly, he divides his camp is the hope that if all else fails, he can at least have half a victory. That's not the Yaakov of decades earlier. Sticking your staff in the water in the hopes that it will split is not a logical strategy, something you make a cheshbon about. Walking into a new town and immediately giving mussar to the shepherds and telling them they are not working hard enough is not a sound strategy. Trying to singlehandedly roll a huge boulder off the well is not a sound strategy. That's idealism, that's youth, that's trust in Hashem l'maaleh min ha'teva. That's the Yaakov of old, of youth.
Yaakov looks at himself and says כִּי בְמַקְלִי עָבַרְתִּי אֶת הַיַּרְדֵּן הַזֶּה וְעַתָּה הָיִיתִי לִשְׁנֵי מַחֲנוֹת. Look what's happened to me! I went from the person who splits the river with his staff to the person who splits his camp in the hopes of half a victory being better than none. Yaakov is not making a list of chassadim here; he is drawing a contrast between what once was and what now is.
If I didn't know better, I would say this is the mid-life crisis of Yaakov Avinu.
The problem is that Yaakov Avinu is not you and me. We may become middle aged pragmatists and lose our idealism, we may have a mid-life crisis when thinking about how we have changed, but we are not the bechir ha'Avos. Yaakov felt that he should be the same as the Yaakov of old -- titein emes l'Yaakov, and emes remains consistent. Therefore, there must be some other force at play here forcing him to act as he did. Maaseh Avos siman la'banim -- what the Avos experienced does not just reflect on their personal lives, but reflects the current of Jewish history as well. That is no less true in this case.
Netziv asks:
אם נפרש שחשש שיכה האם והבנים יחד וכמשמעות החיצוני מסוף התפילה ״ואתה אמרת וגו׳ ושמתי את זרעך וגו׳ ״, קשה, דלפי זה התכוון יעקב לדבר ה׳ אל אברם אחרי הפרד לוט מעמו (לעיל יג,טז) ״ושמתי את זרעך כעפר הארץ אשר אם יוכל איש למנות וגו׳ ״, וא״כ למאי שינה לשון הברכה ואמר ״כחול הים״
Why did Yaaskov add the words כְּחוֹל הַיָּם which are not part of the blessing given to Avraham (13:16 וְשַׂמְתִּי אֶת זַרְעֲךָ כַּעֲפַר הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר אִם יוּכַל אִישׁ לִמְנוֹת אֶת עֲפַר הָאָרֶץ גַּם זַרְעֲךָ יִמָּנֶה), which is what Yaakov is invoking?
The Arugas haBosem points us to the dersha in Yoma 22b:
ר' יונתן רמי כתיב והיה מספר בני ישראל כחול הים וכתיב אשר לא ימד ולא יספר לא קשיא כאן בזמן שישראל עושין רצונו של מקום כאן בזמן שאין עושין רצונו של מקום
We can either be as numerous as the stars of the sky -- lofty, heavenly -- or be like sand of the sea, lowly and trodden on.
When Yaakov reflected on his behavior and thinking at that moment, he realized that his behavior had changed because Hashem wanted through him to give guidence not just to great generations, but to generations that are not exactly up to snuff. There are generations where we are not in the position to walk into a river with just our staff, confident that it will split on our behalf. We are not in a position to think we can unstop wells that look blocked, or dictate ethics to others. We make cheshbonos, we operate strategically, more in tune with what derech ha'teva leads us to think than with pure bitachon.
Yaakov was praying not for his own sake, but for the sake of those generations. וְאַתָּה אָמַרְתָּ הֵיטֵב אֵיטִיב עִמָּךְ וְשַׂמְתִּי אֶת זַרְעֲךָ כְּחוֹל הַיָּם אֲשֶׁר לֹא יִסָּפֵר מֵרֹב. Even if we are כְּחוֹל הַיָּם, nonetheless, אַתָּה אָמַרְתָּ הֵיטֵב אֵיטִיב עִמָּךְ.
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