Knowing the Inside Scoop of God's Plan

Parshat Vayigash

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Shortly after revealing himself to his brothers, Yosef tells them that “It has already been two years of famine throughout the land, but there will be five more years where there will be no plowing and [no] harvest.” (45:6)

 Why doesn’t he just say there will be no food? Ramban translates Yosef’s statement here to mean exactly that. But if that’s what Yosef meant, why didn’t he just say it? Furthermore, why mention both? Isn’t it obvious that if you’re not plowing, you won’t be harvesting?

B'Terem - The Drama of Immediacy

Parshat Vayigash

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The word “Terem” or “B’Terem” (‘just before’) appears in the Torah close to twenty times, sometimes serving as a dramatic preposition enhancing a narrative tale, setting the stage for the unfolding drama that is most riveting.

                

“Terem” Lot’s guests  were to retire for the night, the people of Sedom gathered at Lot’s house. (19:4) “Terem” Avraham’s servant finished speaking his condition/prayer, Rivkah emerged. (24:15,45)

                

Yitzchak instructed Eisav to prepare food for him, so the son could earn a blessing “B’terem” his father dies. (27:4) Yitzchak finished eating Yaakov’s food and completed his encounter with Yaakov “B’terem” Eisav returned with his prepared meal. (27:33)

                

The brothers saw Yosef from a distance, and b’terem his arrival, they plotted to murder him. (37:18)

                

Yosef’s two sons were born b’terem the famine years arrived. (41:50) Perhaps the drama here comes in the added drive given to Yosef to succeed in his food storage endeavors – the survival of his children.

                

Finally, in our parsha, when Yaakov learns that Yosef is alive, he declares “I will go and see him b’terem I die.” (48:28)

                

Judging from Yitzchak’s estimation of his own death, we can see that while the premonition of death runs in the family, the estimation of time until departure is typically way off. Yitzchak lived another 57 years, and it will turn out that Yaakov will live another 17 years.

                

So why did these men think they were going to die? Rashi says (27:2) that when one gets to within 5 years of the age of death of a parent, one needs to begin setting one’s house in order. It is a good litmus test for one’s survival. Since Sarah lived to 127, Yitzchak’s mortality radar started blinking at 123.

            

The Midrash also tells us in a number of places (see Tosafot Yevamot 61b) that Rivkah lived as long as Kehat. Since he lived to 133 (Shmot 6:18), clearly Yaakov’s mortality radar screen was similarly blinking when he was 130.

                

But is that really what’s on his mind? He seems a lot more pessimistic than merely thinking about his mother’s age of demise when confronted with his age-question by the curious Pharaoh.  (47:8)

                

Considering that Yaakov has thought Yosef to be dead for 22 years, it was never his intention to hold out on giving up on life until he saw Yosef again. So what is a proper explanation for his stating “I will see Yosef b’terem I die.”  Clearly he thinks he is about to die for other reasons, and seeing Yosef is now going to be a bonus in what has otherwise been, in his own words to Pharaoh, “'The days of my life have been few and hard.” (47:9)

                

Some of the commentaries say Yaakov meant, “Though my years have not even come close to those of my father and grandfather, it’s been a rough life.” Radak takes this to mean that Yaakov was worn out. He felt weak and had a premonition that his days were numbered.

                

Yaakov was a man of truth. And the truth is that he suffered from the debilitating mind-game that overtakes people who have given up on life. I had a conversation this week with someone whose father recently passed away, and he told me that his father was an avid traveler who never thought about how old he was until he had a mind-shift that told himself, “I’m old.” This man felt that as soon as his father focused on his turning 90, that was the beginning of the end. He told me of a woman he knows who is 107, but lives every day to the max. Her age is not a focus of her existence. Because her focus is on her life, and not on how much closer she is to the grave.  This was certainly true of Alice Herz-Sommer, the pianist Holocaust survivor  (subject of the documentary “The Lady in Number 6”) (see embedded video at the end), who passed away this past February at age 110. What an amazing attitude she had – her age was irrelevant to her.

                

The drama unfolded by the word “B’terem” shows us that Yaakov was literally at death’s door. He had sold himself down the river. He was done with life. But the news of Yosef’s success gave him a new sense of purpose, so much so that he didn’t even realize that he had given himself a new lease on life. In 45:27 we see that Yaakov’s spirit was revived. And in 45:28, he still thinks he’s about to die.

                

But the shift has reversed itself. Yaakov, in his heart, and perhaps in his mind as well, is looking forward to seeing Yosef. Looking forward to hearing the story, whatever story he’ll hear. Looking forward to meeting any grandchildren he may have. But as he’s making the shift, he has the sense of urgency, the sense of immediacy, that death will come very soon on account of every other factor of life that has brought him to this point.

                

The hope is that all people in that later stage of life can tap into an urgency of finding amazing things to live for. The mind game that says that at 75,80,90,100 “I’m just getting started!” can hopefully provide a very necessary ingredient and attitude (and “chiyus!”) that will lead to good health and mindset as seniors embrace the different stages of the second half of life.

The Beer Shava Stopover

Parshat Vayigash

by Rabbi Avi BIllet

In the Torah, the city Beer Sheva appears thus named only one time (26:33). Otherwise it is always called Beer Shava. Seforno notes the difference between the vowelization of the two names of the city, while Ibn Ezra offers that when it is called Beer Sheva it might be for two reasons (based on a swear and the number seven), or, perhaps, it is a different (though similarly named) city.

When Yaakov visits Beer Shava in our parsha, he is presented as Yisrael as he offers sacrifices to the God of his father Yitzchak. God speaks "to Yisrael" in a nighttime vision, calling him "Yaakov Yaakov" saying, "I am the God of your father. Do not fear going down to Egypt, for I will turn you into a great nation there. I will go down with you to Egypt, and I will come up with you as well, and Yosef will place his hands on your eyes."

Then "Yaakov" gets up from Beer Shava, as "Bnei Yisrael" lift Yaakov their father – along with their children on wives – onto the carriages Pharaoh had sent for them.

A few questions come to mind: What is the significance of stopping in Beer Shava? Why is Yitzchak mentioned and not Avraham? Why the switch from Yaakov to Yisrael, and back again? What are we to take from the "nighttime vision"? Who will be accompanied by God in the descent to and in the ascent from Egypt? Why the promise of Yosef putting his hand over Yaakov's eyes.

Yitzchak had two prophetic experiences in Chapter 26: in the first he is told not to descend to Egypt during a famine, as his father had done before him, and the second was in Beer Shava when God told him "I am the God of your father Avraham. Do not be afraid, for I am with you. I will bless you and make your children numerous in the merit of my servant Avraham." (26:24)

In all likelihood Yaakov went to Beer Shava on account of this latter encounter (Rashbam), hoping to be the recipient of a similar blessing, and also hoping to be told not to descend to Egypt. Nonetheless, he was encouraged to complete this trip (Sechel Tov). Alternativley, Toldos Yitzchak suggests Yaakov very much wanted to go, but feared God would tell him he could not. The promise to become a great nation in Egypt, unlike the promise his father received, was so helpful in freeing him to go.

Sacrficing to the God of Yitzchak alone may be because: a person is more obligated to honor his father than his grandfather (Rashi, Midrash); since Yitzchak suffered as well over the sale of Yosef (the crying father in 37:35 refers to Yitzchak), his suffering could serve as a merit for Yaakov's own wishes to suffer no longer (Pesikta); a lament over not honoring Yitzchak for 22 years, Yaakov did not want similar treatment when being reunited with Yosef (Meshech Chokhmah).

There are many theories as to why "Yaakov" or "Yisrael" is used. As they are going down to Egypt and need strength (Yisrael) to survive, the name Yaakov is still applicable as with that name he is sometimes defeated. They come as "Bnei Yisrael" because they will multiply in numbers and eventually be redeemed. But Yaakov the man is the one who is going descending to slavery. (Ramban)

The nighttime vision is unique to Yaakov and takes place when he is on the cusp of leaving the land (see 28:11-16). The message is that even in nighttime, in the darkness of exile, God's Shechinah dwells amongst Israel. (Meshech Chokhmah)

God promised that He'd go down with and take Yaakov out of Egypt. Yaakov did not want to become a slave. So he was told he personally wouldn't be there that long. (Or HaChaim). He received the promise that his children would not be enslaved during his lifetime either. (Sechel Tov)

Of course, Yaakov knew from the moment he purchased the birthright that exile was the price for getting the blessing promised to Avraham. Never having anticipated that the strange land was going to be Egypt, he feared for the moral decay of his family to the point they'd never be able to get out. God promised him that if necessary, He would take them out early, before it is too late. (Beis HaLevi)

The promise of going down to Egypt included different features.

The language is "I will go with you" as opposed to "I am bringing you down." (Rabbenu Bachaye) He is literally counted as the 70^th soul because the family actually totals 69. (Daat Zekenim) This is what the Kli Yakar calls a "Yeridas HaShechinah," a descent of the divine presence.

A double language is utilized to promise the ascent from Egypt: I will bring you up (your sons will bury you) and I will bring your children up (eventually) (Sechel Tov, Radak); not only will you be brought up, but all of your sons will merit burial outside of Egypt too (R Chaim Paltiel); the double language of ascent refers to to Eretz Yisrael and to the World to Come. One is a physical ascent, and one is an ascent of the soul (Rabbenu Bachaye).

The promise that Yosef would place his hands on Yaakov's eyes has different meanings.

We know from the death of Rachel (and elsewhere) that a throwaway comment in the Torah sometimes turns out to be a prophesy. Perhaps Yaakov was being promised that the comment he made when he thought Yosef was dead "that he would go down to the grave mourning for his son" (37:35) would not be fulfilled. As the Baal Haturim notes, God was showing Yaakov that Yosef would not die in Yaakov's lifetime. As Rashbam hints to (Baba Batra 108a) Yaakov was receiving a two-part blessing here: that he would outlive Yosef, and that Yosef has children who count as part of Yaakov's family of 70.

Other possibilities include: Yosef will close your eyes when you die; Yosef will take care of those upon whom you have your eye – your children and grandchildren… long after you die (Radak); "Einekha" (your eyes) means "Inyanekha" – he'll take charge of your affairs (Chizkuni); or, most practically, you won't have to keep your eye on all of your belongings when you get to Egypt, because Yosef will make sure everything gets to you (nothing will be stolen) (Seforno)

The stop in Beer Shava, therefore, is highly significant. It is meant to serve as a reflection of a spiritual encounter his father had, and it is meant to sway or counter many fears Yaakov has over being the "one" who is beginning the actual descent to the strange land promised to Avraham. Avraham's experience is not noted because Yaakov serves as his spiritual heir – and perhaps Yaakov even latches on to whatever merits his father had, as a man who suffered in his life, and as a man who never left Eretz Yisrael – a place to which Yaakov desperately wishes to one day return, whether in life or in death or through his descendants.

The promises he receives from God set a stage for the promises the people will one day remember: that we may become slaves, but there is a promise for redemption. We may fall into moral depravity, but God will not let us disappear into a murky existence from which redemption is impossible.

For us, we look to the words of the Midrash that the Final Redemption will mimic the first redemption (from Egypt) in all ways, except that the Final Redemption will not be preempted by slavery. We therefore hope that all the promises made to Yaakov in Beer Shava will one day be fulfilled again, as we experience an end to the (long) night in which Yaakov received his vision - a promise for a bright future when God will once again accompany us all up to the land He promised to our forefathers.

Bringing the Children Along

This was written the week after the horrific shooting at an elementary school in Newtown, CT in 12/2012, in which 26 people, 20 of whom were children, were killed by a _______ (not sure how to describe this 'person.') The loss is too difficult to comprehend, and the vacuum in all of our hearts is sucking at air because we all feel the pain of those mourning for the children with whom they will never have the opportunity to "bring them along" any more.

Parshat Vayigash

by Rabbi Avi Billet

A not-too-farfetched reading of the end of Chapter 45 can indicate that only one person intended to go down to Egypt to stay there.  "… And bread and foot for his father for the journey" (45:23). "He saw the wagons Yosef had sent to carry him…" (45:27) "Israel said, 'My son Yosef still lives: I will go and I will see him before I die.'" (45:28)

It is particularly poignant that Yaakov/Yisrael was the only one excited about the journey. He travels "with all that was his" to Beer Shava, where he brought sacrifices. (46:1) God promises to go down with him (specifically), and that He will take Yaakov up from Egypt. (46:3-4) Yaakov's sons then make sure their wives and children are on the wagons that were sent "to carry him." (46:5).

The final indicators are in verses 6-7, when we see "They took their cattle and their possessions to come to Egypt: Yaakov and all his children with him." This is followed by "His sons, grandsons, daughters and granddaughters and all of his children – he brought with him to Egypt."

Every pronoun is in the singular – about Yaakov.

Why did they not bring all of their belongings in 46:1? Why does it emphasize twice (in 46:6-7) that all his children were with him – first in the general sense, and then in the more specific – before listing them individually? Wouldn't once be sufficient?

And why does it say "He brought them with him to Egypt?" Why did he have to bring them? Did they not go of their own accord?

The Or HaChaim explains that they were only going in order to accompany their father, and had no intention of staying in Egypt. But after the prophesy in Beer Shava, they realized they were meant to go and stay there as well. Which is why they willingly and deliberately put their children on the wagons: if you're going to go, you may as well go in style.

The Malbim further notes that the zodiac indicated there would eventually be enslavement, but that they  (Yaakov's sons) would not personally be enslaved. For the shvatim (the individual tribes) themselves, there was nothing to worry about. But their children, destined to be the first ones enslaved, exhibited hesitation. This is why Yaakov needed to "bring them." Would you want to be dragged along for Grandpa's joyride if he will die soon, leaving you to be enslaved? Didn't think so.

Or HaChaim applies the same thought process to some of the Shvatim themselves – that they too didn't want to go, but needed Yaakov to drag them against their will.

Being dragged along for the ride of someone else's destiny is never easy. When adults get jobs that cause them to move, and their children are uprooted from the system and friendship circle they know so well, it can be traumatic. Those who make aliyah to Israel are sometimes faced with this challenge with their children, especially with kids who were a little older by the time they make the move.

While any move nowadays is hardly comparable to the destiny of being enslaved for a few generations, the natural hesitation, fears, or just plain ambivalence that comes with the prospects of the move are real challenges that aren't easily overcome.

The same is true of certain aspects of how we live. Some schools and parents are quite successful in inculcating a regimen of halakhic observance in their students and children.

Fathers who go to shul bring their kids to shul. Mothers who make prayer a fixture of their lives teach their children that prayer is important to us.

We teach our sons to wear tzitzis, even though the extra garment might not be preferred. We learn Torah in the home, even though a computer game or a toy or a book is more appealing right now.

At the shabbos meal, the kids are present for the zemiros and the bentching. In fact, children learn to say their brachos before and after they eat, even though it isn't "natural" to remember God all the time.

Children are given the opportunity to give tzedakah, to deduct a portion of their allowance. They see their parents write donation checks and understand that we do not keep for ourselves all the money we earn. There are people who are more needy.

If we volunteer at a soup kitchen, we bring our children along, when appropriate.

The fact is, while they are under our protective wings and care, our children share in our destiny – whether they like it or not. We don't have the same opportunity that Yaakov's descendants had, to have an inkling of what the future will bring. But we must bring our children along for the ride, because without proper Jewish living in the present, there will not be a Jewish future.

What Yaakov Feared

Last year I addressed the difference between the names Yisrael and Yaakov and their usage in the Torah. I don't know if there is a fool-proof difference between them. In this article, they are used interchangeably simply because the Torah uses them in this fashion in the verses discussed.

Parshat Vayigash

Were one to examine Yisrael's attitude towards going to Egypt, it would be hard to convince us that he was apprehensive about the trip. When he heard Yosef was alive and was convinced by the sight of the wagons that he would be reunited with his favorite son, "His spirit became alive. He said, '... I will go and see him before I die.'" (45:27-28)

And yet, three verses later, after a stopover in Beer Shava to bring offerings to God, Yisrael has a vision in which God tells him, "I am the God of your father. Don't be afraid to go to Egypt, for it is there that I will make you into a great nation. I will go to Egypt with you, and I will also bring you back again..." (46:3-4)

There is no indication that he is afraid of Egypt! What is God talking about?

There are different kinds of fear: fear of the unknown, fear of possible outcomes – especially for one's children, fear of an undesired destination or destiny. One can fear other people, or what the other people might be capable of doing.

Many of the commentators raise the idea that Yaakov was aware that with this journey to Egypt the years of bondage that Avraham had been promised in Bereishit 15 would commence. The Chizkuni, for example, says that God's words after "Don't be afraid" are to assure Yaakov that just as the bondage element of the promise to Avraham would be fulfilled, so would the exodus and the becoming a great nation promises be fulfilled.

Others focus on the fears Yaakov harbored over his and his family's spiritual future. In addition to the fear that he was beginning the exile that had been promised to Avraham, Or HaChaim also mentions Yaakov's fear that he'd be buried in the impure land. God's immediate response is the promise that he personally would not be enslaved, nor buried there. "Perhaps Yaakov had designs on going back to Canaan when the famine was over and the trouble passed… this is why he is told not to fear 'for even the relatively short amount of time you think you're going to be there,' because your family will become a great nation in that place."

Along similar lines, the Beis HaLevi puts Yaakov's fear in terms of his children not being able to be in Egypt and maintain their "kedushah" (holiness). Maybe they'll become so entrenched in the tumah (impurity) of Egypt, they would not be worthy of being redeemed. God therefore told him not to fear, because He would not let them become completely lost, and if need be He would take them out before their time was up.

It is the Seforno, however, who writes what I find to be the most compelling concern. "Don't be afraid to go down to Egypt. Were your children to stay here in Canaan, they would end up marrying the Canaanites and assimilating with them. But in Egypt this will never take place because the Egyptians have their own rules against intermingling with you."

Right after this exchange with God, the Torah lists for us the names of the descendants of Yaakov. The Torah does not tell us much about the wives of the sons of Yaakov. One midrashic thought suggests each of the tribes was born with a twin sister who became a wife to one of the tribes. A different line of thinking posits the wives were Canaanite women who embraced the ways of the family of Yaakov – and listing his children here (46:5-27) would alleviate the fear of a family breakdown as it would serve as a strong indicator that this family unit will remain intact.

If the latter approach is correct, moving the family to Egypt, away from Canaanite grandparents and relatives might actually be the best thing to happen to Yaakov and his family. Creating their own homogeneous environment that will not be influenced by "distance relatives" or Egypt's "live and let live, but we will not mingle with you" attitude could, in the end, become the strongest bond in the effort to stem a tide of assimilation and have everyone in the family remain close-by-design in the Goshen area they will soon occupy.

Consider this statistic: by 1927 (14 years into the Weimar Republic), more than 44% of Jews in Germany married non-Jews (Martin Gilbert, "Final Journey" p.11). (The Nazis counted them all as Jews anyway, but nonetheless, it is a staggering number for early 20^th century stats, versus current US figures where the number wavers in the 50-plus percent range.)

Being in a place like Egypt, therefore, where Egyptian law allowed for engaging in commerce and neighborliness but prohibited assimilating with the Hebrews – wining, dining, and marrying – was a reminder Yaakov desperately needed, and an answer that assuaged his number one fear.

The fear of the silent destruction brought on by the loving environment of assimilation is one Yaakov did not need to express. It is constantly in the mind of every parent, and was Avraham's first concern when he was promised the land (see Seforno, Bereishit 15:8).

Shabbos in Boynton Beach during vacation weekend - "A+"

What a beautiful Shabbos!

My wife and I took our kids (well, we can't just leave them) to Boynton Beach for Shabbos - what an enjoyable weekend! I blogged about why we enjoy Shabbos there once before, so we need not repeat.

But - man! Now that we are in the dead of winter here in Florida (not that we would know because it's in the 80s during the day and 60s at night), people are starting to come down to visit. Frequently. And with their families.

This Shabbos, the shul which had thirty people in attendance (men and women altogether) on Rosh Hashana, had approximately 75 adults and 30 kids! To make the point of the influx of numbers in attendance, the gala kiddush - which was indeed gala - was so good, there was no food leftover. And no one walked away hungry either. (Though I am sure everyone went home to enjoy lunch). My 4 year old son asked me, "Abba, was there any cake?" No - not a single birthday. Thank God for lollypops!

Speeches

I spoke 5 times: Friday night, pre-davening parsha class, Morning Sermon, pre-Mincha afternoon class, and at Seudah Shlishiss.

Friday night

Two approaches to what happened when Yehuda approached Yosef:
1. Went close to speak with him softly - as Koheles says "The words of the righteous are heard when spoken gently." Yehuda wanted to make sure Yosef would hear him out. If they would resort to a shouting match, nothing would get accomplished.

2. The Kotsker rebbe says, "Vayigash Eilav Yehuda" means "Yehuda approached himself." Before a person presents himself to royalty or any figure in a powerful position, it is important to be true to yourself, to know who you are and what you want out of your next human encounter. Yehuda needed to come close to his own true identity to be able to approach Yosef.

Sermon

The gyst of the sermon boiled down to two points:

1. The reaction of Yosef''s brothers to his revealing his identity is one of pure stupefication. They have nothing to say. The Talmud (Chagiga 4b) says Rabbi Elazar would cry when he read this verse because of the scary nature of its consequences. Imagine how embarrassed Yosef's brothers were, when he, a brother, reminded them of their evil deed of selling him. That embarrassed feeling is what it is like - though much worse - when God "calls us" on our inconsistent behavior.

2. To improve our overall relationship with God through prayer, we ought to follow Yosef's lead when he cleared out the room to address his brothers. Yosef wanted to achieve a unique spiritual connection with his brothers, and anything which would stand in the way or distract him needed to leave the room. The Slonimer rebbe says this is how a person must pray.

Think of what it means to take out all people from our presence, all distractions - and now we are more ready to pray to God.

The Parsha Drama Experience

(Parsha Drama is a dramatic presentation of the Torah reading, aimed at children of all ages)

I heard I heard... Someone (we won't mention who) got a little excited when playing Yaakov finding out that Yosef is still alive. And the whole shul heard it in the middle of the announcements. We'll try to tone it down next time. No promises.

Feedback

The entire effort is worth every minute because people give the most genuine and appreciated feedback on the Torah and thoughts I prepare and share.

And the compliments we've gotten about our kids (so cute! you have a beautiful family! "kein yirbu!" etc etc) make my wife and I want to come back for more.

Overall

What a genuine and friendly place. We are glad to be having this experience this year. It is tremendously rewarding to prepare classes and sermons. I enjoy the work, and the payoff (what can I do? - as an actor I enjoy a good performance, especially when audience members tell you how much they enjoy), and look forward to our next visits - still during the January break times when we will continue to enjoy larger crowds - which only enhance the davening - and the warmth of the community that is Anshei Chesed of Boynton Beach.

Important Final Thought

This past Thursday was the first yahrzeit of David Bilowit, ע"ה. The president, Adam Rosen, gave a warm and heartfelt tribute to his memory, not only on account of his special status as a founding member of Anshei Chesed, but as the most senior member of Anshei Chesed. Rabbi Kossowsky also spoke warmly to David's wife, expressing the need to celebrate his life and all that he meant to everybody, even as we are saddened at his no longer being with us.

It was a fitting and heartwarming tribute to a man who meant a lot to the shul.

Vayigash - Back Where We Started?

Parshat Vayigash: First history lesson

By Rabbi Avi Billet

As soon as Paroh learns of the arrival of Yosef’s family, he invites them to return to Canaan merely to bring their father and families, in order to settle more permanently in Egypt.

“Do not even concern yourselves with your vessels/belongings, for the good of the land of Egypt will be available to you.” (45:20)

One can assume Paroh was referring to the availability of Egyptian products, Egyptian agriculture (which dried up during the famine), Egyptian culture, Egyptian technology and innovation. Was Paroh indicating this promise would remain in effect for the duration of the famine? For the remainder of Yosef’s life? For the remainder of Paroh’s life? Until such time as the family would want to leave? Indefinitely?

Netziv points out that sometimes, Biblical characters say things with a certain intention, while their words end up having a different meaning. For example, in 37:20, the brothers said, “Let’s kill him, and then we’ll see what become of his dreams.” While they were being cynical, their words “We will see what become of his dreams,” became prophetic.

Here too, says Netziv, Paroh was unaware that his words “the good of the land of Egypt will be available to you,” was a pre-ordained prophesy: Avraham had been promised that his children would be strangers in a strange land, and G-d meant for “all of the good of Egypt to be available to them” so their stay — even while enslaved — would never lack the amenities of Egypt.

Nonetheless, it is quite clear that the family does not take Paroh up on his offer. As they leave Canaan, G-d tells Yaakov (46:2-4), “Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt, for you will become a great nation there. I will take you down, and I will also bring you back up from there.” The next two verses tell us that in addition to their entire families, they bring all their cattle and property. This is confirmed again at the end of the chapter (46:32) — “they brought with them their sheep, cattle and all they had.”

When leaving home, they have no idea how long they will stay in Egypt. As was the case in every exile, for better or for worse, the Jews got comfortable in their new environment. They enjoyed everything Egypt had to offer them — the open space, the endless supply of food and water, the culture. While different rabbinic sources indicate they were ultimately redeemed from Egypt because they maintained their names, language and secrets, and guarded themselves from speaking lashon hara and protected their wives from sins of a sexual nature, it would seem, they were otherwise completely assimilated into Egyptian society — idolaters and all!

In essence, the descent to Egypt was the ultimate paradox. On the one hand, since you don’t trust the host nation’s promise to completely provide for you, you bring your own possessions and supplies. On the other hand, because you so appreciate the hospitality, you assimilate almost completely into the culture, only maintaining a minimal smidgen of your old identity — enough to indicate you’re “different” within your own circles and in the general culture, but other nationalities would not be able to distinguish between you and your host nation.

We live in the greatest nation the world has ever seen. The principles of freedom upon which this country was founded — most notably separation of church and state — gave us the chance to thrive in a way that throughout history has ultimately led to persecution or expulsion from other lands.

In a world of parable, however, the Jewish people are experiencing Egypt all over again. Not in a sense of slavery, but in the sense that even those things that helped us maintain our identity in Egypt — names, language, clothing, and separation from lashon hara and immorality — are being blurred.

In many hearts and minds, intermarriage is no longer “rebellion”; it is a fact of life. Lack of Hebrew literacy and Jewish knowledge is no longer “because it’s not for me”; it is not even on the radar screen. With the exception of small communities, we all dress the same. One can argue it is not even worth opening a lament about lashon hara and immorality, because it will never end.

History has a lot to teach us, and as is often the case, history does indeed repeat itself.

When it is time for the ultimate redemption, will G-d recognize us at all?