Genesis Planting the Seeds of Potential

Parashat Vayishlach Genesis 32:4-36:43

In a parasha filled with high intensity moments—Jacob wrestling with an angel, Jacob and Esav’s reunion, and the rape of Dina (to name a few), Deborah’s death could be easy to miss:

וַיִּבֶן שָׁם מִזְבֵּחַ וַיִּקְרָא לַמָּקוֹם אֵל בֵּית־אֵל כִּי שָׁם נִגְלוּ אֵלָיו הָאֱלֹהִים בְּבָרְחוֹ מִפְּנֵי אָחִיו
וַתָּמָת דְּבֹרָה מֵינֶקֶת רִבְקָה וַתִּקָּבֵר מִתַּחַת לְבֵית־אֵל תַּחַת הָאַלּוֹן וַיִּקְרָא שְׁמוֹ אַלּוֹן בָּכוּת׃

(7) There [Jacob] built an altar and named the site El-bethel, for it was there that God had been revealed to him when he was fleeing from his brother.
(8) Deborah, Rebekah’s nurse, died, and was buried under the oak below Bethel; so it was named Allon-bacut. (Genesis 35:7-8)

In the context of the Book of Genesis, however, this moment feels nothing short of remarkable. I was moved by this beautiful instance of love, care, and attention. Deborah isn’t a matriarch. She isn’t a blood relative. But she is buried, and a place is dedicated to her. By contrast: Hagar, maidservant and mother to one of Abraham’s children, is cast into the desert with little regard for her survival (Genesis 21:10). The deaths of Bilhah and Zilpah, who bear Jacob’s children, aren’t mentioned at all. Yet, Jacob literally names a place in honor of God, and then names a place in honor of Deborah. Surely, Deborah is someone worth paying attention to?!

Some of our commentators don’t think so. In fact, rather than view this as an acknowledgement of Deborah’s significance, a few of our sages cannot seem to comprehend why such a “lowly nursemaid” would be mentioned by name at all.

As the Medieval commentator Ramban says:
“This verse alludes to the death of Rebekah, and therefore Jacob called the name of that place, Alon-bachut (the oak of weeping), for the weeping and anguish could not have been such for the passing of the old nurse…”

The commentators who do see potential in Deborah are the ones who actually expand her story.

In his comment on this verse, Chizkuni writes that Deborah was significant because she told Jacob that Esav was no longer a threat. She became the messenger who fulfilled Rebekah’s promise earlier in Genesis—to let Jacob know when it was safe to return home.

Targum Yonatan suggests that Deborah was a great teacher of Rebekah’s (פִּידְגוּגְתָא דְרִבְקָה); he writes that Jacob was so appreciative of the role she played in his mother’s life, that he honored her with this burial.

I like to imagine that maybe Deborah was like a second mom to Jacob. Perhaps she helped with all 11 of Jacob, Rachel, Leah, Bilhah, and Zilpah’s sons and offered wisdom to their lonely daughter Dina. Maybe Deborah was the one who knew how to soothe each kid to sleep and what kind of soup each person liked.

By seeing Deborah’s potential, we give her room to grow as a character. Her story expands and her legacy deepens.

Our ability to see potential in not just a character, but in another person, matters. It matters beyond the parchment of our Torah and beyond the context of our tradition.

We know this to be a scientifically proven fact.

When we fail to see a person’s potential, they fail to live up to their potential.

A 2005 study about the influence of stereotypes on academic performance, engagement, and self-concept demonstrated that when people are treated as unfriendly, they are more likely to act unfriendly. When people are told that they are intellectually inferior, they are more likely to doubt their intelligence and to keep their thoughts to themselves.

This self-fulfilling prophecy holds, even when the bias in question is unconscious. Even if most of us would never explicitly tell someone we don’t expect much of them, the subtle unconscious signals we send their way still have an impact.

When we leave our unconscious biases unchecked, we let our assumptions guide our hearts, and we let our hearts guide others’ actions.

When we see a biblical character as an insignificant nursemaid, she becomes an insignificant nursemaid.

But the opposite is also true.

When we look at other people compassionately, we have the power to bring out the good in them.

This is also a scientifically proven fact.

Having a reading teacher who expects a student to complete a four-year college degree increases the probability that a student actually goes on to complete a degree.

A 2024 study of the impact of leadership on employees showed that when supervisors have higher expectations about the creativity of their employees, their employees become more creative.

When we believe in the potential of a biblical character, we can create a whole new narrative and legacy for them.

In his commentary on our verse, the Daat Zkenim suggest that Allon-Bacut is the same site where the Prophetess Deborah (different from the nursemaid Deborah) sits and holds court in Judges (4:5). I like to think that there is a sacred connection here. The honoring of Deborah the Nursemaid creates fertile ground for the leadership of Deborah the Prophetess. Jacob’s favorable judgement of Deborah the Nursemaid becomes connected to Deborah’s success as a judge and prophet.

In her poem “Kindness,” Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer” writes:

Someone plants in someone else
a bit of beauty–
a kind word, perhaps, or a touch,
the gift of their time or their smile.
And years later, in that inner soil,
that beauty emerges again,
pushing aside the dead leaves,
insisting on loveliness,
a celebration of the one who planted it,
the one who perceives it, and
the fertile place where it has grown.

May we each be planters and perceivers of potential, helping each other grow into our expansive possibilities.

Rabbi Heather Renetzky is a 2024 graduate of the Rabbinical School of Hebrew College. She currently serves as the Director of Congregational Engagement at Mount Zion Temple in St. Paul, MN. Heather is a firm believer in the healing power of deep listening, trees, and homemade chocolate chip cookies.

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