Friends - The exile in Egypt is our paradigmatic exile. It is written that all of our exiles are called by the name "Mitzrayim" - literally, Egypt, but also translated as "straits, narrows". Thankfully, our great-great- grandparents were also in Egypt, and, through being there, taught us how to be in exile. Ya'akov lived in Egypt for 17 years before he died there. It is written that 17 is the numerical value of the word tov - "good". In fact, they may have been the best years of his life - he has his entire family together, Yosef is alive and providing for him. He has already seen grandchildren and great- grandchildren. The only problem is, he is in Egypt. How can that be good?
The Malbim, in his commentary on Song of Songs, writes that Hashem guides us in two ways - the way of direct providence, where every detail is personalized, and the guidance of nature, where we are subject to the "laws" of time, of nature, of constellations and their magnetisms. Direct providence is usually associated with the land of Israel, and the natural guidance is usually associated with exile. Under direct providential guidance, anything can happen at any moment. There is a constant influx of newness and inspiration. Hashem's Presence feels close by. Under natural guidance, we may feel locked into a very specific cycle. There doesn't seem to be any hope of a huge breakthrough.
But, the Malbim writes, natural guidance is not at all bad. It is simply different - it is a different kind of providence. He uses the metaphor of a shepherd who sometimes guides his flock to new places (direct providence) and sometimes lets his flock sit in one place for a longer period of time (natural guidance). Of course, the shepherd would only let his flock sit in a place with nourishing grasses, with plenty of water. Both kinds of guidance are important - why should he move to a new place if there is plenty of nourishment to be had in this place?
The key, says the Malbim, is in knowing which phase you are in. Problems arise when we wish to move forward, to go to a new place, while Hashem wishes us to stay in one place where there is still essential nourishment to be had. We are unable or unwilling to be nourished by what is before us, because we are seeking what is past the horizon. But if we recognize and admit that we are in a period of exile, of stopping, then we can allow ourselves the time to receive the deep growth that can come in that place.
The pain of exile, and particularly the exile in Egypt, is compared to pregnancy. Pregnancy is a particular seed, in this particular womb, over time. Wanting to move on is wanting that moment of conception again and again. But new life cannot emerge without pregnancy. And this takes time. Regarding the first verse of this week's parasha, on which Rashi comments that that Ya'akov wanted to share with his children what would happen in the end of days, but it was hidden from him, Rebbe Natan writes that Ya'akov realized at that moment that you cannot rush history. Revealing the end in words before it is ready to come takes away its power to nourish over time, and turns it into just another intellectual conception to be had.
For this reason, Ya'akov chooses instead to bless each of his sons. The Netziv writes that we only bless what is there already - meaning we bless the wise with wisdom, the rich with wealth, etc. Each son is blessed by his father's insight as to who he is. And this central aspect of each son is recognized, emphasized, and brought into focus as an essential piece in the future of the People Israel. Simultaneously, each son is made to recognize that he already has in himself what he needs. He doesn't need to continue seeking identity - conception. He only needs to allow this central point to gestate, to be nurtured by time.
There are really two different kinds of belief. One is when we see external events, and we believe that they are positive building blocks toward an ultimate goal. But there is another level, when the external really doesn't matter, and what matters is going on unseen. It is important at these times of exile not to be distracted by what is happening outside, but to focus all our attention on nourishing that one central point. In Egypt, the transformation from a family to a nation occurs. The essential nature of each of the tribes, as brought out by Ya'akov's blessing, ceases to be the task of one person, and becomes the responsibility of a group of people; it becomes the heart of a tribe. It lives through but beyond each individual person. It lives between people. So, too, in each of us, when we begin to see who we are, our deepest selves may cease to be revealed in one action or moment, and may rather be gestated over a week, a year, or a lifetime. The failure of a single conversation, action, or davening, to convey that essential self becomes irrelevant in light of its place in the context of a collage of moments. Here we find a deeper faith, a faith that is more blind. It demands identification with an aspect of one's self which has not yet borne any fruit.
This exact point, says R' Tzaddok, is what Ya'akov ultimately revealed to his sons. He demonstrates to them the faith that being in Egypt, really being there, even allowing it to be good, is what will bring them to redemption. Though they are not in touch with the land of Israel, and therefore not in touch with a physical environment that reflects their deepest selves, it is essential for them to be there, because they must go through a period of gestation which requires exile to be fully effective.
We can only hope to open ourselves to the power of the exile we are in, and allow ourselves to be transformed by it into the People Israel we are destined to become.
Rav Gavriel Goldfeder
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Rav Gavriel Goldfeder is one of the first semicha recipients of the yeshiva. A graduate of Drew University in Religious Studies, he came to Bat Ayin after stints in other yeshivot and found a spiritual and intellectual home. Here he met his wife, Ketriellah, who was a student in our short-lived Women's Yeshiva. Upon graduation, Gavriel took the position of rabbi of the Aish Kodesh Congregation in Boulder, Colorado and together with Ketriellah and their growing family, they are busy creating (in Gavriel's words), "a community infused with Torah values, passion for learning and prayer, consideration of one another, and action, as well as deep celebration of the joys of life." |