Sermon Archives

Short & Bitter After the End of History

Avraham was the first individual whom the Torah describes as being elderly וְאַבְרָהָ֣ם זָקֵ֔ן בָּ֖א בַּיָּמִ֑ים

but Yaakov was the first old Jewish man. Of course not every Jewish man who ages becomes an old Jewish man but Yaakov in Parashat Vayigash acts in a way that I exclusively associate with old Jewish men.

Pharoah is delighted when he learns that Yosef’s brothers are in Egypt and eagerly invites Yaakov to join the rest of the family in Egypt. Yaakov descends to Egypt, is reunited with his long-lost son Yosef and lives with Yosef in Egypt for the final seventeen years of his life. The seventeen years that Yaakov lives with Yosef in Egypt perfectly mirror the seventeen years that Yosef lived at home with his father before he was sold into slavery. These seventeen years should also be years of contentment no less than the sense of settled peace that Yaakov experienced  וַיֵּ֣שֶׁב יַעֲקֹ֔ב בְּאֶ֖רֶץ מְגוּרֵ֣י אָבִ֑יו בְּאֶ֖רֶץ כְּנָֽעַן  at the beginning of Parashat Vayeshev when Yaakov was settled וַיֵּ֣שֶׁב יַעֲקֹ֔ב in the land where his father’s dwelled בְּאֶ֖רֶץ מְגוּרֵ֣י אָבִ֑יו in the Land of Canaan. 

And yet we see no sign of contentment and joy when Yaakov is introduced to Pharoah. 

The exchange could almost be comedic. Pharaoh accepts Yaakov into his palace to receive his blessing. Trying, perhaps, to make small-talk, Pharaoh asks Yaakov how old he is – Yaakov has an aura of a sainted elder, he presents as a venerated patriarch from head to toe. 

And yet Yaakov cannot say anything pleasant in what could be a powerful and positive moment.

יֹ֤אמֶר יַעֲקב֙ אֶל־פַרעֹ֔ה יְמֵי֙ שְנֵ֣י מְגור֔י שְלשִ֥ים ומְאַ֖ת שָנָ֑ה מְעַ֣ט וְרעִ֗ים הָיו֙ יְמֵי֙ שְנֵ֣י חַיַ֔י וְל֣א הִשִ֗יגו אֶת־יְמֵי֙ שְנֵי֙ חַיֵ֣י אֲבֹתַ֔י בִימֵ֖י מְגוריהֶֽם׃ 

And Jacob answered Pharaoh, “The years of my sojourn [on earth] are one hundred and thirty. Few and hard have been the years of my life,  מְעַ֣ט וְרעִ֗ים הָיו֙ יְמֵי֙ שְנֵ֣י nor do they come up to the life spans of my fathers during their sojourns.”  

This is Yaakov’s response to a friendly question from his son’s boss! Why won’t he make the moment pleasant? He’s called in to give a blessing, it’s an easy task! He’s a patriarch! But he isn’t happy and he won’t pretend to be happy. 

There is a photograph of a childhood outing that Sara took with her parents and grandparents to visit the Patterson Waterfall, New Jersey’s answer to Niagara Falls. You can see that some members of the Tillinger family were trying to make the most of the occasion and they smiled for the photograph. Some members of the family were trying a bit too hard to look family and you can see the tension in their clenched teeth as they try to smile for the camera.  And, there are others who were not happy and were not going to pretend to be happy. 

I suspect many of us have pictures of that sort where an effort to capture a moment can reveal how different people, even members of the same family, can be at the same place at the same time but can have very different feelings and can convey very different feelings. 

Yaakov was not happy and would not pretend to be happy. 

Why was he not happy? One idea, which in my notes I attributed both to Rabbi Chaim Brovender and to Professor Leeor Gotlieb is that the descent to Egypt represented a realization for Yaakov that his family was at a much earlier stage of history than he had thought. It was not a personal failing, but a recognition of how much suffering and hardship was yet to come. 

God’s promise to Avraham in the berit bein ha’betarim, the so-called covenant of the pieces which they entered into before the birth of Yitzhak, contains the arc of Jewish history:

יָדֹ֨עַ תֵּדַ֜ע כִּי־גֵ֣ר ׀ יִהְיֶ֣ה זַרְעֲךָ֗ בְּאֶ֙רֶץ֙ לֹ֣א לָהֶ֔ם וַעֲבָד֖וּם וְעִנּ֣וּ אֹתָ֑ם אַרְבַּ֥ע מֵא֖וֹת שָׁנָֽה׃ 

וְגַ֧ם אֶת־הַגּ֛וֹי אֲשֶׁ֥ר יַעֲבֹ֖דוּ דָּ֣ן אָנֹ֑כִי וְאַחֲרֵי־כֵ֥ן יֵצְא֖וּ בִּרְכֻ֥שׁ גָּדֽוֹל׃ 

וְאַתָּ֛ה תָּב֥וֹא אֶל־אֲבֹתֶ֖יךָ בְּשָׁל֑וֹם תִּקָּבֵ֖ר בְּשֵׂיבָ֥ה טוֹבָֽה׃

“Know well that your offspring shall be strangers in a land not theirs, and they shall be enslaved and oppressed four hundred years; 

but I will execute judgment on the nation they shall serve, and in the end they shall go free with great wealth. 

As for you,

You shall go to your fathers in peace;

You shall be buried at a ripe old age.

Avraham raised Yitzhak with the knowledge of this covenant and Yitzhak shared this story with Yaakov. Yaakov, who was sent away from Eretz Yisrael by his parents and was a stranger in a strange land and was oppressed there and mistreated there and yet returned to Eretz Yisrael with great wealth - thought that the covenant had been fulfilled. 

 Yaakov thought he was living at the end of history. Yaakov believed that he was the one who fulfilled the negative part of the story. He was a stranger in a strange land. He was oppressed. And he returned to live securely in the land of his fathers. This is added resonance of the beginning of Parashat Vayeshev:
וַיֵּ֣שֶׁב יַעֲקֹ֔ב בְּאֶ֖רֶץ מְגוּרֵ֣י אָבִ֑יו בְּאֶ֖רֶץ כְּנָֽעַן 

Yaakov was finally living in a secure and settled way in the land where his fathers had only sojourned, tentatively, moving from place to place and never in control. When Yaakov descends to Egypt he understands that he was mistaken about the entire course of his life. He thought he had suffered and endured and merited to live at the end of history. But as he leaves home he understands that the suffering and affliction and oppression foretold to Avraham all lies ahead. Egypt will be the strange land. 

That is the resonance of Yaakov’s response to Pharoah:
יֹ֤אמֶר יַעֲקב֙ אֶל־פַרעֹ֔ה יְמֵי֙ שְנֵ֣י מְגור֔י שְלשִ֥ים ומְאַ֖ת שָנָ֑ה מְעַ֣ט וְרעִ֗ים הָיו֙ יְמֵי֙ שְנֵ֣י חַיַ֔י וְל֣א הִשִ֗יגו אֶת־יְמֵי֙ שְנֵי֙ חַיֵ֣י אֲבֹתַ֔י בִימֵ֖י מְגוריהֶֽם׃ 

Instead of “VaYeshev Yaakov” dwelling securely, Yaakov now refers to himself as “dwelling” like his fathers did. 

God’s reassuring message to Yaakov אָנֹכִ֗י אֵרֵ֤ד עִמְּךָ֙ מִצְרַ֔יְמָה וְאָנֹכִ֖י אַֽעַלְךָ֣ גַם־עָלֹ֑ה I will descend with you to Egypt and I will surely bring you out from Egypt only reinforces Yaakov’s understanding that everything is going according to a plan that was made generations ago, and that the story is not close to being over. 

The story is just beginning. 

I feel like I am living through a “Yaakov descending to Egypt moment.” We were promised the end of history. We were promised a safe and stable American Jewish identity. We were promised that multicultural democracy had chased antisemitism to the darkest shadows at the margins of American life and that none of us would have to take it seriously as a force limiting our choices or threatening our ability to thrive in America. We were told that Israel was a safe and secure place where Jews could find refuge and be a salve on the wounds of Jewish history. 

It turns out that no matter where we look, history is not over. 

How do we react in a moment like this? I think we can act as Yaakov did. We care for our children and make sure that the next generation knows the story. We keep our faith even as it matures from a naive faith that everything is OK to a mature faith that acknowledges the length of the journey. 

Ambassador Kurtzer recently reminded me of the old story about a man who called Bezek to set up a phone line at his home. This occurred in the 1950s and so he was told that the waiting list for a phone line installation was seven years. 

“Seven years,” the man exclaimed. “Then there is no hope for me!”

The operator responded “In Israel, there is always hope, but you don’t stand a chance.”

In just another week we will wrap up Sefer Bereishit and in the week that follows, the curtain will rise on Sefer Shemot with a quick descent to oppression and slavery and murder. But Sefer Shemot, after it’s challenging beginning, is the book of redemption. We need to recognize that we find ourselves, not at the end of the story, but very much in the middle, and then we need to write the next chapter, and the chapter after that one, until we too have written a story of redemption.