Assessing Aging

 Shiur provided courtesy of Naaleh.com

Adapted by Channie Koplowitz Stein

            When Yaakov and his family arrive in Egypt, Yosef introduces his brothers and his father to Pharaoh. The dialogue between Pharaoh and the brothers follows a usual pattern of introductions, but the dialogue between Pharaoh and Yaakov seems somewhat strange and even impolite. Pharaoh asks Yaakov how old he is, "How many are the days of the years of your life?" Yaakov's response is even stranger, "The days of the years of my sojourns have been a hundred and thirty years. Few and bad have been the days of the years of my life, and they have not reached the life spans of my forefathers in the days of their sojourns."

            Several questions arise. First, what prompted Pharaoh's unusual question, and then what meanings are alluded to in Yaakov's convoluted reply? Finally, why, according to the Medrash, did Yaakov lose thirty three years of his life, one year for each word of this dialogue which seemed to imply Yaakov's complaining about the hardships of his life? Even so, asks Chochmat Hamatzpun, shortening Yaakov's life by thirty three years seems a very harsh punishment for what seems to be an honest response to Pharaoh's question.

            Rabbi Pam z”l asks an additional question on this Medrash and then begins a response. Perhaps Yaakov had sinned in his response, and he merited losing those years. But Yaakov also lost years for the number of words in Pharaoh's question as well. Why were these words added to the total?

            We can begin answering our questions by understanding what prompted Pharaoh's initial question. In all his years on the throne, Pharaoh had never seen anyone who looked as old as Yaakov did. His question was one of incredulity rather than a lack of manners. Yaakov's reply directly addressed this issue. He was basically saying, "I'm not as old as I look. I've turned gray and wrinkled from the stresses and challenges of my life, but my forefathers lived long lives and I'm not yet as old as they were." If this was in fact a logical response, why was Yaakov punished? Rabbi Pam z”l cites Rav Salanter in explaining that while Yaakov had indeed experienced a difficult life, that pain should remain private, in his heart. A person's countenance and appearance are public, and that public appearance with which one greets others should always be pleasant. Since Yaakov's face mirrored the inner challenges of his life, he was held accountable for Pharaoh's question as well as for his response.

            Rabbi Mordechai Ezrachi develops this idea more fully. Certainly the stresses of one's life create changes in one's appearance. Why was Yaakov faulted for appearing old when he struggled with Esau, lived almost sleeplessly for twenty years in Lavan's house, mourned for Dina's abduction and rape, and finally for the loss of his beloved Yosef? And therein lies Yaakov's sin, suggests Rabbi Ezrachi. While Yaakov remembered and cited his troubles, he neglected to mention the tremendous chessed Hashem showed him. All these troubles were eventually reversed and returned to him. His face should have reflected the joy of rejuvenation in Hashem's chessed instead of remaining dark and old. [Today we would say there is a difference between wrinkles and laugh/smile lines. C.K.S.]

            This is also one of the themes of Chanukah, for we are urged to thank and praise Hashem for everything in our lives, including the struggles, both the internal and external milchamot/battles we wage. As Rabbi Chasman notes, the gift of life is so great that its challenges pale in comparison. Therefore we should joyously thank Hashem for every breath we breathe.

            Rabbi Chaim Shmulevitz z”l proves this point by citing the medrash that says the three advisers to Pharaoh on how to handle the "problem" of the Israelites in Egypt were Yitro, Bilaam and Iyov. Yitro, who ran away from the situation completely was rewarded and eventually became Moshe's father in law. Bilaam, who gave the advice to kill all the baby boys was punished with instantaneous death. Iyov/Job who remained silent was forced to suffer so many tragedies and challenges in his life. One would think, suggests Rabbi Shmulevitz z”l, that the one who gave the devastating advice would be punished more severely than the one who remained silent. Why did Bilaam die so quickly while Iyov was forced to suffer so greatly? Here Rabbi Shmulevitz points out that the value of life is so great that it outweighs all the challenges and misfortunes one may endure while living.

            Taking this one step further, the Otzrot Hatorah teaches that we should thank Hashem with joy for the challenges as well as for the good in our lives, for the challenges provide a path for blessing and growth. A simple analogy explains this idea more fully. A carpenter will take a sturdy piece of wood and begin sawing it into pieces. A casual observer might bemoan the "tragic" fate of this wood, but the carpenter needed the wood "broken" in this way to create a beautiful table. Similarly, we cannot judge what is truly good or bad in our lives until the process is complete and we see the result.

            Although Yaakov is calling the troubling years when Yosef was lost "bad", continues the Otzrot Hatorah, it was from those very years that Hashem was transforming Yosef into the Prime Minister of Egypt with the ability to sustain not only all of his family, but also all of the world. We must acknowledge that everything Hashem does is ultimately for the good, even though the process is challenging.

            Mankind are complainers from the beginning. When Adam sinned and was punished, he complained that it was God's fault for giving him a wife. Now Yaakov is complaining about the time when Yosef was being groomed for royalty. Bnei Yisroel complained in the desert about the "poor food" Hashem gave them from heaven. When, after Aharon died, Hashem led them backwards through the desert around the land of Edom, they complained, and Hashem sent the fiery serpent to bite them and punish them. Why the serpent, asks Rabbi Svei z”l in Ruach Eliyahu? Because the serpent was punished that his food would always be available, that he would eat dust, and yet the serpent never complained. This was the lesson Hashem wanted Bnei Yisroel to learn.

            Let's follow Rabbi Svei z”l as he examines these ideas in greater depth. Bnei Yisroel complained when they were led around the Land of Edom. Here they foresaw all the trials and tragedies that would befall our nation in our exile initiated by Edom. That was the basis of their complaining, for they lost hope. But Hashem is always with us and wants a relationship with us. When we feel pain, we cry out to him, unlike the serpent who never has need for anything and therefore never interacts with Hakodosh Boruch Hu. Our trials in exile are meant to bring us closer to Hashem and hasten the redemption, and should be re-framed in that context. When we suffer, we should look upward toward heaven, as Bnei Yisroel had to raise their eyes from the copper serpent at the top of the pole further toward Heaven, and regain their hope and faith in Hakodosh Boruch Hu.

            We do not see the full picture, and can therefore not understand what Hashem does. Therefore, when we say the blessing of the New Moon, we ask that Hashem fulfill our requestsletovah/for the good, writes Rabbi Pam z”l. We see only the present, and cannot know why a particular event is necessary for the future. Only if Hashem reveals the entire picture to us can we understand the importance of everything that has happened, just as Yosef's brothers could make no sense of Yosef's contradictory actions toward them until he revealed himself and told them, "Ani Yosef/I am Yosef." Only then did all that had preceded become logical.

            We do not understand this long and dark exile, continues Rabbi Pam z”l, but as we read Parshat Vayigash, usually in the darkest days immediately following Chanukah, we must remember that Hashem is always with us, and He will redeem us.

            So why was Yaakov punished? Chochmat Hamatzpun explains that while Yaakov was truthful about his suffering, he should also have remembered and mentioned the good and the chessedthat Hashem did for him. Because he allowed the suffering to suffuse his entire being until he did not appreciate the good, Hashem punished him. Similarly, when we are going through difficult times, we must also remember the good times and allow for the proper perspective.

            Rav Asher Weiss brings a completely different perspective to Yaakov's words. These words were not complaints, posits Rabbi Weiss. Rather they were words of humility. Yaakov understood that real life is measured in the time one spends learning Torah and doing mitzvoth. He felt that because of the many challenges he had faced in his life, he had not lived up to his potential, that he had not spent his time productively on Torah and mitzvoth as his father and grandfather had done. Nevertheless, at the end of his life, the Torah records the number of days of the years of Yaakov's life, that all his days were truly filled with righteousness, just as those of his father and grandfather. In this same context Rabbi Mordechai Ezrachi notes that while Pharaoh asked, "How many were the days of the years of your life." Pharaoh assumed that Yaakov's life was filled with spirituality and with bringing spirituality to others, as were the lives of his father and grandfather. Yaakov responded with, "The years of my sojourn," implying that these were years of mere existence, not full life. Yaakov was thereby correcting Pharaoh, adds the Ohel Yehoshua. Yes, I have existed for so many years, but that time was not filled with spirituality as were the lives of my father and grandfather.

            We have concluded the formal days of Chanukah, the days of dedication and education. But Rabbi Biederman tells us that the energy of renewal that Chanukah brings extends beyond the conclusion of Chanukah at least to the Shabbat immediately following. It should be a time of re-dedication and training in the ways of Hashem, to again begin living, not merely existing.

            Yaakov felt that true life meant living with Ruach Hakodesh, writes Rabbi Wolbe z”l. But for twenty two years when Yaakov assumed Yosef was lost, he grieved, and Ruach Hakodesh left him. Yaakov felt that he had not really lived those years.     Today we no longer have Ruach Hakodesh, but through living a Torah lifestyle, and filling each day with Torah study, we can fill our lives with spirituality and make every day count.

            Do we really appreciate life? Do we understand that life is finite? These are the questions Rabbi Frand discusses. He writes that Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai explained that when Hashem saw all creation and declared it good, He was referring to the Angel of Life. But when Hashem beheld it all and declared it "very good", He was referring to the Angel of Death. If we do not realize that life will end, we will never appreciate the true value of the gift of life. Maturity implies the realization that our lives are on loan from Hashem, and there will be a time when we must return life to Him. Are we using this time effectively, investing for the permanent returns in the Future?

            If we are examining Yaakov's response from this spiritual perspective, why was Yaakov punished for his response? Rabbi Gifter z”l explains that Yaakov examined his years and was affected by his shortcomings. He felt he would never be able to live up to his potential. In this context, the loss of these years was a consequence of his own making rather than a punishment.

            Rabbi Sternbach, the Kli Yakar and Vayovinu Bamikra all approach Yaakov's response as specific to Pharaoh. Rabbi Sternbach posits that Yaakov may have been afraid of an ayin horo/evil eye, and so he avoided telling Pharaoh all the blessings of his life. (How much more so must we be careful not to be conspicuous with what we have.) The Kli Yakar says that Yaakov was reassuring Pharaoh that. although he looked very old, he was considerably younger than he looked, and he expected to live a long life as his father and grandfather had lived. Pharaoh need not fear that the blessings of the Nile that Hashem brought in Yaakov's merit would cease. Finally, Vayovinu Bamikra suggests that Yaakov was trying to deflect Pharaoh's possible desire to make him one of his advisers. Yaakov was saying he's old and has suffered enough and wants to spend his time with his family in Goshen.

            Finally, Rav Moshe Feinstein zt"l interprets Yaakov's response as informing Pharaoh that he does not want to assimilate and partake of the riches of the land as do most immigrants. He is used to the hard life, and would prefer to remain separate and distinct, for this is the way he and his progeny can fulfill their mission as Hashem's ministers on earth and remain a holy nation.

            Chanukah reminds us of our mission. As we remember the dedication of the Maccabees, and we study the words of our forefather Yaakov in his first encounter as the patriarch of an alien nation with the sovereign of the host nation, we must also remember to be grateful for both good and difficult times, to keep ourselves separate and distinct, and to imbue the days and years of our lives with meaning and spirituality.