By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz
The posuk (Bereishis 37:1) tells us, “Vayeishev Yaakov b’eretz megurei aviv b’eretz Cana’an — Yaakov lived in the land where his father had sojourned, in the land of Cana’an.” This statement essentially repeats the same information. If we know that Yaakov lived where his father lived, then it follows that he lived in Cana’an, the land promised to the Jewish people. Why does the Torah repeat itself?
Rav Meir Soloveitchik explains that the Torah is emphasizing something important: Yaakov returned to the Promised Land not only because it was the land Hashem had promised to Avrohom Avinu at the Bris Bein Habesarim, but also because it was the land where his father, Yitzchok, lived.
The avos followed the paths of their forefathers. Yitzchok lived his life according to the ways of Avrohom, and Yaakov followed the example set by Yitzchok. Even though Eretz Yisroel had not yet been fully given to them, Yitzchok lived there [as a ger], and Yaakov did as well.
We, too, are meant to follow in their footsteps. To preserve Am Yisroel, we do not introduce new mitzvos or concepts, nor do we deviate from the ways of our forefathers. We do not assume that we understand the Shulchan Aruch better than our ancestors did. We do not think that our modern intelligence grants us a clearer perspective on how to live. Instead, we observe the mitzvos as they were observed by those who came before us, following the customs and traditions passed down through the generations to us.
For example, Jews living in the Diaspora observe two days of Yom Tov because, in times of old, people who lived far from Eretz Yisroel were often unaware of when Rosh Chodesh was proclaimed. As a result, they were uncertain about the Hebrew dates and didn’t know when Yom Tov was meant to begin. Later, after the establishment of the fixed Jewish calendar, everyone knew the correct dates. Nevertheless, Chazal instituted the practice of observing two days of Yom Tov in golus to maintain the customs of our ancestors. This concept is known as “minhag avoseinu b’yodeinu” — we hold on to the traditions of our forefathers.
A similar principle can be seen in the way we perform bedikas chometz on Erev Pesach. One year, someone asked Maran Rav Elazar Menachem Man Shach whether it would be permissible to search for chometz with a flashlight instead of the traditional candle. Rav Shach responded by asking, “How did your father conduct the search?” The man replied, “With a candle.” Rav Shach said to him, “If your father used a candle, why would you want to do it with a flashlight?”
The young man explained that he had heard that a flashlight could illuminate cracks and crevices more effectively than a candle. Rav Shach, looking at him with a knowing smile, asked, “Do you really think you can see better than your father?”
The lesson here is clear: We follow in the footsteps of our forefathers. We don’t believe that we are smarter or better equipped to fulfill the mitzvos of the Torah than they were. We don’t imagine that we know more about life or the proper way to serve Hashem than they did.
After teaching us this lesson, the posuk (ibid. 37:2) states, “Aileh toldos Yaakov, Yosef ben sh’va esrei shanah…” The posuk says that it will discuss the biography of Yaakov, and then it mentions Yosef, and the entire conversation from then on continues by talking about Yosef.
Meforshim ask that since Yaakov gave birth to twelve sons and at least one daughter, why is there no mention of them here? Why is Yosef the only one mentioned?
Various answers are given, among them that Yosef was the one who modeled himself after his father and, from all the brothers, was the one who was most fastidious about following in his ways. Yaakov taught Yosef everything he had learned in the yeshiva of Eiver, and Yosef resembled his father not only in actions but also in appearance. Thus, when the Torah speaks of Yaakov, it concentrates on the story of Yosef, for just as Yaakov was the primary heir of Yitzchok, Yosef was the primary heir of Yaakov.
As we continue our study of the parsha, we see how Yosef’s devotion to his father and his ways saved him from becoming lost.
Yosef was a lonely teenager who was sold by his brothers into servitude in the most corrupt, disreputable, shameless country. If there was ever a young man who had an excuse to fall into the cesspool of a debased society, it was Yosef.
But instead of falling, he raised himself, and because of that, he is referred to for eternity as Yosef Hatzadik, the righteous one.
From where did the rejected, hated, handsome young man find the inner strength to be able to rise above his nisayon and his situation?
The Gemara (Sotah 36b) tells us that when confronted by aishes Potifar, Yosef stood at the edge of a spiritual cliff, engaged in a fierce battle with his yeitzer hora. Suddenly, he beheld the image of his father: “Be’osah sha’ah bosah deyukno shel oviv.” Yosef saw the image of his father, Yaakov. Seeing the likeness of his father propelled him to act correctly and placed him back on the tzaddik track.
Like a flash of lightning on a stormy night, it showed him the way.
Yaakov was the last av, the third and greatest of the three avos who imbued nishmos Yisroel with the strength to endure. Yosef was the foremost tzaddik of the next generation. He grasped the strengths of his forebears and made them his own, and by doing so, he was able to act as they would have, saving himself and creating a new link in the eternal chain.
Yosef was the first of the next generation who was forced into exile. Not only was he forced to leave the Promised Land and his father’s home, but he was also the first in the chain who was sold into exile — by his brothers, no less. Lonely and seemingly forgotten, Yosef was able to see past his situation and remember where he came from and what he was meant to be.
When Yosef saw the image of his father’s face, he was reminded not only of his physical resemblance to Yaakov, but also of his role as Yaakov’s primary disciple. Yosef understood that he was the one chosen to continue his father’s legacy, to carry forward the heritage of Yaakov and pass it down through generations.
Seeing the reflection of his father also brought to mind the hardships Yaakov had faced. While Yaakov’s brother had not sold him into slavery, that was only because he wanted him dead. In this, Yosef realized that his father had endured a similar fate, driven into exile by his own brother and forced to flee to the treacherous and immoral house of Lovon. Despite all the trials and suffering Yaakov had endured, he never wavered in his commitment to Hashem and the Torah. Yosef proudly remembered his father’s words: “Im Lovon garti v’taryag mitzvos shomarti v’lo lomadeti mima’asov hara’im — Even when I lived with Lovon, I kept all the mitzvos and was not influenced by his evil ways.”
Yosef’s father, Yaakov, was chased, oppressed, and isolated in a foreign land filled with impurity, yet he remained steadfast. His inner strength was rooted in the teachings of his father and grandfather, both of whom had also been exiled and exposed to moral corruption. This foundation of faith and resilience empowered Yosef to endure his own challenges. It was this deep connection to his family’s legacy that allowed him to stay true to the path they had paved for him.
As we study the parshiyos of Bereishis, the images of Avrohom, Yitzchok, and Yaakov are before us. The stories of their lives provide inspiration and direction as we navigate our lives, subsumed in a foreign culture, with people who seek our destruction as prevalent as the temptations that threaten to sink us.
The images of the avos and imahos have led the way throughout the ages, as Jews struggled to remain loyal to Torah.
It is likely that the examples of Yaakov and Yosef inspired the Chashmonaim, the heroes of the neis of Chanukah. Yovon had taken hold of Eretz Yisroel, the Bais Hamikdosh, Am Yisroel, and everything holy. The majority of the people at that time did not support the Chashmonaim as they went to war against the progressive Hellenists and fought for kedushas Yisroel and kedushas haMikdosh during a time of great spiritual darkness.
The Yevonim were the most culturally advanced nation of their time, and their army was the strongest. Too many Jews viewed themselves as weak and small compared to those who dominated over them, perceiving any attempt to overthrow them as futile.
Like Yosef Hatzaddik, the Chashmonaim refused to be influenced by the Yevonim or succumb to their entreaties and philosophical arguments. They were inspired by Yosef’s example of a Jew living in golus, surrounded by temptation, and dominated by a heathen, hedonistic culture. Just as Yosef had done, they channeled support from Yaakov Avinu as well. Empowered by his example, as well as his tefillos and zechuyos, they embarked on a daunting task.
With this, we can understand the teaching of Chazal that there is a connection between Yaakov Avinu returning for small jugs he had left behind and the miracle of the small crucible of holy oil that allowed the Chashmonaim to kindle the menorah for eight days following their military victory.
Yaakov Avinu returned for the pachim ketanim that he had forgotten as he escaped from the house of Lovon because he appreciated the value of everything that Hashem had given him. His possessions were infused with holiness, for they had been procured with money earned honestly and were used by the tzaddik whose entire life was dedicated to Hashem’s service.
In the merit of Yaakov, who remained undefiled and steadfast in his holiness, ensuring that his possessions reflected his unwavering devotion to Hashem, Hakadosh Boruch Hu rewarded his descendants. They rose up in his image, returning sanctity to Hashem’s people and to His earthly home. Following the example of Yaakov, who confronted Lovon, Eisov, and even the angel of Eisov with courage and faith, they were granted the strength to face a far more powerful enemy and emerge victorious.
Confronted by the forces of Eisov, they saw Yaakov. They summoned the strength and tefillos of Yaakov, and like Yosef, they declared war against the prevailing tumah. They lived lives of purity and Torah during a period dominated by immorality and evil.
At this time of year, as we study these parshiyos and prepare to celebrate the battles and victories of the Chashmonaim, we should be inspired to persevere in our personal and communal battles against the forces of darkness, hedonism, and physicality. From studying their stories, we should be able to place their image before us, giving us the ability to resist the temptations of the yeitzer hora and remain steadfast on the path we have followed since the days of Avrohom, Yitzchok, Yaakov, and Yosef.
As we look into the lights of the menorah, we are reminded of their message and how it came to be that we light the menorah for eight days. We recall the miracles Hashem performed for our forefathers, as we recite the brocha that states that Hashem performed miracles for them in their time, on these very days, when we commemorate their victories. The lights we see are the same lights our forefathers have seen for thousands of years, all the way back to the time of the Chashmonai miracles in the Bais Hamikdosh.
Just as Yosef saw demus deyukno, the image of his father, when we look at the menorah’s flames, we see demus deyuknom, the images of the flames in the Bais Hamikdosh and in the homes of Jews throughout the ages.
As we have discussed, at the beginning of this week’s parsha, we read, “Aileh toldos Yaakov, Yosef.” Rashi quotes the Medrash, which explains that Yaakov saw the armies of Eisov approaching and wondered how he would defeat them. The Medrash answers with the words of the novi Ovadiah (1:18), which we read last week in the haftarah: “Vehaya vais Yaakov aish, uvais Yosef lehavah, uvais Eisov lekash.” One spark will emanate from Yosef and will incinerate the approaching armies of Eisov.
When we sit in our homes and look at the tiny dancing flames, we are not only seeing the lights of the menorahs throughout history, and not only the lights of the Bais Hamikdosh, but also the light of the Ohr Haganuz, which Hashem created at the beginning of time.
We see that light, kindled by the Chashmonaim, who merited saving the Jewish people from destruction during Golus Yovon. And as we think about our current challenges—whether it’s the darkness surrounding us, concerns about our children’s chinuch and future, or the dangers arising in Eretz Yisroel—we recognize the parallels. We recall the threats we’ve seen miraculously defeated, only to face new dangers and old schemes now gathering strength.
In these moments, we think of Yaakov and Yosef, of the Chashmonaim and their flames. We remind ourselves that if we remain loyal to the values of those who came before us, we will be strengthened and endowed with the ability to persevere. In doing so, we will merit the coming of Moshiach speedily in our days.