​           It is often hard to say “goodbye.”  When parting friends or family for a period of time, this can be difficult.  All the more so when loved ones leave this world.  How should we part? What do we say to each other?
           This week, we conclude the book of Genesis with the reading of Parshat VaYehi.  We will be saying “goodbye” to Jacob and Joseph and the generations of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs.  And Jacob and his sons will attempt to say “goodbye” to each other. The parsha begins right where the last parsha ends. In the scroll itself, there are no spaces between the last verse of last week’s parsha and the first verse of this week’s parsha.  The Rabbis ask, why is this parsha closed[1]?  One explanation is that Jacob sought to reveal to his sons the end time of the impending exile, and so, God caused the divine channels to be closed off from him.[2]
            Jacob calls for his sons to gather by him before he dies. “Then Jacob called his sons, and said: ‘Gather around, that I may tell you what will happen to you in days to come/וַיִּקְרָא יַעֲקֹב אֶל בָּנָיו; וַיֹּאמֶר הֵאָסְפוּ וְאַגִּידָה לָכֶם אֵת אֲשֶׁר-יִקְרָא אֶתְכֶם בְּאַחֲרִית הַיָּמִים.”[3]  If Jacob is not going to tell them about the end of the exile, then what is he going to tell them?  The Sfas Emes[4], points out that calling/kriyah/קריאה is the language of appointment.  Jacob was assigning his sons roles for their future.  Jacob represents the quality of the light of Torah/or Torah/אור תורה and the brothers represent the lamp of commandment/ner mitzvah/נר מצוה.[5]  The sons’ role is to spread the light of Torah in this world, through the 613 commandments.  And this is why Jacob calls his sons to gather by him.  Jacob brings them in close to him, like when one lights candles, and gives its power to them.[6]  
            Jacob’s last instructions were intended to help the brothers bring light into a world where there is darkness and exile.  If he could not tell them when the redemption would begin, he could tell them how to live bright lives even in the narrowest of places.  Jacob lights a fire of inspiration into all the sons.  They must now go forth and illuminate the world around them.  In this way, they never say “goodbye” to Jacob, for his light is the source and essence of theirs.  This week, as we lay the generations of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs to rest, we are reminded that we never have to completely let them go. And the same is true of our loved ones.  If we can see that our light was kindled and grown from their light, as long as we spread the light throughout the world, then they will always live on.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Ezra


[1] Meaning that there is no open space between the two parshiyot.

[2] Gen. Rab. 96:1

[3] Gen. 49:1

[4] Yehudah Aryeh Leib Alter (Hebrew יהודה אריה ליב אלתר‎, 15 April 1847 – 11 January 1905), also known by the title of his main work, the Sfas Emes (Yiddish) or Sefat Emet שפת אמת‎ (Hebrew), was a Hasidic rabbi who succeeded his grandfather, Rabbi Yitzchak Meir Alter, as the Av beis din (head of the rabbinical court) and Rav of Góra Kalwaria, Poland (known in Yiddish as the town of Ger), and succeeded Rabbi Chanokh Heynekh HaKohen Levin of Aleksander as Rebbe of the Gerrer Hasidim

[5] See Prov. 6:23

[6] Sfas Emes 1:270

​            One of the great things about deep relationships is the development of communication.  I am sure that many of us have been sitting around a table with close family and friends and something happens where you just look at one other person, share a glance or a wink, and you know exactly what the other is thinking.  This can be particularly powerful after long absences from each other’s company.  For example, after years apart, in attending a camp or high school reunion, you see an old friend, say one word, and laughter just bursts out.  These are benefits to deep rooted relationships.
           In this week’s Parsha, Parshat VaYigash, we get the epic reveal of Joseph’s true identity to his brothers.  After an emotional reunion, Joseph sends for his father, Jacob.  The other brothers traveled back to the Land of Israel with serious provisions for their journey, including many animals, clothing, silver and wagons to carry it all. When the brothers tell Jacob that Joseph still lives and all that had happened to them, he does not believe them.   Then, Jacob sees the wagons and he knows the truth.  “…and when he saw the wagons that Joseph had sent to carry him, the spirit of their father Jacob revived/וַיַּרְא אֶת-הָעֲגָלוֹת אֲשֶׁר-שָׁלַח יוֹסֵף לָשֵׂאת אֹתוֹ; וַתְּחִי רוּחַ יַעֲקֹב אֲבִיהֶם.”[1]  Why is Jacob revived at the sight of the wagons? 
           The Berdichever Rebbe[2] explains that the wagons/agalot/עגלות were a sign from Joseph to Jacob that he should not be afraid from going down to Egypt and the impending exile.  The wagons/agalot/עגלות represented a circle/igul/עיגול.  Even though things might get rough in Egypt, they would eventually come back around.  Going down to Egypt would be what moves the people of Israel to come back up redeemed and ready to become a people of Torah and Mitzvot that eventually return to the Land of Israel to inhabit it. This sign calms Jacob and he knows that everything will be ok.
           The Midrash reads the sign slightly differently.  According to rabbinic tradition, when Joseph was younger, he and Jacob would sit and study Torah all day.  They were very close, and this is how they spent their time.  Just before Joseph was sold into slavery, the last thing that he and Jacob studied together were the laws of the “broken necked heifer/eglah arufah/עגלה ערופה.”[3]  All these years after Joseph had been taken, they both still, sadly, remembered their time together studying Torah.  And they both remembered that the last thing that they studied was the eglah arufah.  They were the only two that knew that.  So, when Jacob sees the agalot he remembers the eglah and knows that it must be Joseph sending him a sign![4]
           These images depict a relationship that is incredibly close, despite many years spent separately.  It teaches us that across countries, oceans and worlds, we can remain in deep connection with those that we love.  As we enter the darkest and coldest part of the calendar year, we should remember that we are blessed to be connected to all Jews around the world.  All we have to do is reach out and send a sign—then we can begin the journey to our reunion and redemption.
 
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Ezra


[1] Gen. 45:27

[2] Levi Yitzchok of Berditchev (1740–1809 in Berdychiv), also known as the Berdichever, was a Hasidic leader. He was the rabbi of Ryczywół, Żelechów, Pinsk and Berdychiv, for which he is best known. He was one of the main disciples of the Maggid of Mezritch, and of his disciple Rabbi Shmelke of Nikolsburg, whom he succeeded as rabbi of Ryczywół…He authored the Hasidic classic Kedushas Levi, which is a commentary on many Jewish religious books and laws, and is arranged according to the weekly Torah portion.

[3] Deut. 21:1-21

[4] Gen. Rab. 95:3

            There is a story in the Talmud where the community is trying to replace its leader.  One of the nominees for the position was Rabbi Elazar ben Azaria.  However, there was concern that he was too young for the position.  Nobody argued regarding his intellect.  He possessed the knowledge and political tools for the position.  Yet, his wife was concerned that he had no white hair.  That night, a miracle occurred, and Rabbi Elazar ben Azaria woke up with white streaks in his hair.  Now that he looked the part, he was ready to take the position.[1]
            This week in Parshat VaYeshev we begin the story of Joseph.  “This is the story of the family of Jacob.  Joseph, being seventeen years old, was shepherding the flock with his brothers; he was yet a lad (na’ar/נער) with the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah, his father’s wives/אֵלֶּה תֹּלְדוֹת יַעֲקֹב, יוֹסֵף בֶּן-שְׁבַע-עֶשְׂרֵה שָׁנָה הָיָה רֹעֶה אֶת-אֶחָיו בַּצֹּאן, וְהוּא נַעַר אֶת-בְּנֵי בִלְהָה וְאֶת-בְּנֵי זִלְפָּה נְשֵׁי אָבִיו.”[2]  Why does the Torah specifically mention Joseph’s youth?  The Rabbis note that Joseph engaged in childish behavior (e.g.-he was very concerned with his appearance and made sure he was always made up).[3] 
However, the Sfas Emes[4] does not share this reading.  He teaches that Joseph is called a lad/na’ar/ נערbecause he is constantly reviving and renewing (hit’or’rut mehadash/התעוררות מחדש).  The Gerrer Rebbe explains that this is the distinction between an elderly person who has already acquired wisdom, whose wisdom is fixed in him, and a younger person who constantly needs to stir up (hit’or’rut/(התעוררות in order to learn. This relates to what happens during the week.  During the six days of the week, God constantly renews the world[5] to make it great, but on Shabbat, the day is inherently completely good and filled with divine light.  Joseph’s brothers did not want to learn from him because he appeared young and childish with nothing of value to offer, as we learn in Pirkei Avot, “Rabbi Yose bar Yehuda, man of Kfar HaBavli, says: One who learns from young ones is compared to what? To one who eats unripe grapes and drinks wine from its press[6]. And one who learns from elders is compared to what? To one who eats ripe grapes and drinks aged wine[7]. Rebbi says: Do not look at the jug but rather at what is in it. For there are new jugs full of old [wine], and old [jugs] that do not have even new [wine] within them[8].”[9]  The Sfas Emes notes that Jacob understood this teaching while Joseph’s brothers did not.  This is why Joseph is called “a son of his old age/ben-zekunim/כִּי-בֶן-זְקֻנִים הוּא לוֹ.”[10]  Jacob knew that Joseph possessed mature wisdom, even in his youth.[11] 
           Teachers come in all shapes, colors and sizes.  We learn from Joseph the value of continuing to look at the world around us with new and fresh eyes.  If the world is renewed each day, then we must approach each day with youthful vigor and curiosity.  We also learn to not judge the appearance of our teachers, rather, we should listen to the contents of their words.  This week, as we prepare for Hannukah, let us focus on the holy lights that flicker and dance around us.  The flame is constantly moving around and creating new light.  No matter what the candle or the menorah looks like, its light is what matters.  
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Ezra


[1] BT Brachot 27b-28a

[2] Gen. 37:2

[3] Gen. Rab. 84:7

[4] Yehudah Aryeh Leib Alter (Hebrew יהודה אריה ליב אלתר‎, 15 April 1847 – 11 January 1905), also known by the title of his main work, the Sfas Emes (Yiddish) or Sefat Emet שפת אמת‎ (Hebrew), was a Hasidic rabbi who succeeded his grandfather, Rabbi Yitzchak Meir Alter, as the Av beis din (head of the rabbinical court) and Rav of Góra Kalwaria, Poland (known in Yiddish as the town of Ger), and succeeded Rabbi Chanokh Heynekh HaKohen Levin of Aleksander as Rebbe of the Gerrer Hasidim

[5] המחדש בטובו בכל יום תמיד מעשה בראשית

[6] This wine still has its catalyst mixed in with it, it has not yet been strained out

[7] This wine has aged so it has separated from its catalyst

[8] i.e-There are elders that lack wisdom

[9] mAvot 4:20

[10] Gen. 37:3

[11] Sfas Emes 1:173

​            In this week’s parsha, Parshat VaYishlah, Jacob wrestles with an angel all throughout the night until the dawn.  And then, “when he saw that he could not prevail against him, he touched the hollow of his thigh, and the hollow of Jacob’s thigh was struck as he struggled with him/וַיַּרְא כִּי לֹא יָכֹל לוֹ, וַיִּגַּע בְּכַף-יְרֵכוֹ וַתֵּקַע כַּף יֶרֶךְ יַעֲקֹב בְּהֵאָבְקוֹ עִמּוֹ.”[1]  The Netziv[2] asks why the verse ends with “as he struggled with him.”  It seems superfluous.  We know that they were struggling from the previous verse, we do not need these seemingly extra words.  The Netziv explains that until this point in the night, the angel had been the aggressor, engaging Jacob and wrestling with him.  Now that the angel realized that he would not win he tried to disengage.  However, Jacob came back at the angel and continued wrestling.  And for this reason, Jacob is punished, and his leg is injured. 
           Why should Jacob be punished?  The Netziv notes that this is because Jacob is known for his quality of loving peace in abundance.  Jacob could have let things go, and he normally would.  Because Jacob went against his usual pious standard, he was punished.  This is similar to the teaching in the Talmud, “Ravin bar Rav Adda said that Rabbi Yitzḥak said: One who is accustomed to come to the synagogue and did not come one day, the Holy One, Blessed be He, asks about him...If it is for a matter involving a commandment/mitzvah that he went and absented himself from prayer in the synagogue, then, despite the darkness, there is light for him, [the aura of his mitzvah will protect him,] but if it is for an optional matter, some mundane purpose, that he went and absented himself from prayer in the synagogue, then, even once the day begins, there is no light for him.”[3]  The Netziv sums this up by teaching a great principle, that when a person regularly exhibits a good trait, it becomes as if that person vows to always do it.[4]  If the vow is broken, there are consequences. 
            When we make good habits a part of our lives, we tell the world that that is who we are.  Of course, when life is working well, continuing the good habits is easier.  But, when life throws obstacles in our way, are we still capable of following through with our good actions?  This is reminiscent of a famous scene from Fiddler on the Roof.  Nahum the Beggar is asking for charity.  Lazar Wolf gives him one kopeck.  “One kopeck? Last week you gave me two kopecks!”  Lazar responds, “I had a bad week.”  To which Nahum retorts, “So? You had a bad week, why should I suffer?”  We all have bad weeks.  For some of us, that means that we missed going to shul when we regularly do, or we didn’t give charity, or we snapped at a friend.  If we pay attention after these missteps, we will hopefully notice that something in us does not feel right.  We should not have a real physical ailment like Jacob, but we will not feel whole like we used to.  This deficiency should remind us that even when we are struggling, we must continue to exhibit the actions and good deeds that we have become accustomed to doing. May this week be a reminder to all of us, that while we struggle, and sometimes stumble, we can get up and get back on the good path.

​Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Ezra
           


[1] Gen. 32:26

[2] Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin (1816 in Mir, Russia – August 10, 1893 in Warsaw, Poland), also known as Reb Hirsch Leib Berlin, and commonly known by the acronym Netziv, was an Orthodox rabbi, dean of the Volozhin Yeshiva and author of several works of rabbinic literature in Lithuania.

[3] BT Brachot 6b

[4] Ha’Emek Davar, Gen. 32:26