MOSHIACH MOMENTUM:
PARSHAT VAYESHEV-CHANUKAH
Shira Smiles shiur
2020/5781
Adapted by Channie
Koplowitz Stein
Parshat
Vayeshev is filled with the tragedies and traumas of Yaakov Avinu and his
family: The brothers are selling Yosef, Yaakov Avinu, having been shown Yosef’s
bloody clothing, is inconsolable, and the parsha ends with Yosef Hatzakikin
Egypt as a slave in the home of Potiphar. In the midst of all this, the Torah
digresses to tell us that Yehudah went down from his brothers, married, and had
a family. He then married off a son who subsequently died. He married off the
second son in a levirate marriage to his first son’s wife, Tamar. When this son
also died, Yehudah sent Tamar back to her father’s house to await marriage to
the youngest son.
After
a reasonable time had passed and the third son had not married her, Tamar took
matters into her own hands. Disguised and waiting at a crossroads, Tamar meets
Yehudah. Yehudah believes her to be a prostitute, has relations with her, and
unknowingly impregnates Tamar with twins. When Yehudah realizes he himself is
the father, he confesses, saves Tamar from execution, and the twins, Peretz and
Zerach are born.
While
this entire interlude may indeed be fascinating, what relevance does it have at
this particular juncture? The medrash gives us a simple answer which begs
further exploration. Everyone in the family seems to be involved in his own
personal saga, but Hashem too was busy. In the midst of all this, Hashem was
busily compounding the cure for the terrible “diseases” which were to befall
Bnei Yisroel. Hashem was laying the plans for the birth of Moshiach who would redeem
Bnei Yisroel in the final redemption.
The
Ner Uziel explains that Hashem established a fail safe mechanism to save Bnei
Yisroel should we sin egregiously. If we do teshuvah, the punishments
would be voided, but if we fail to do teshuvah, the fail safe mechanism kicks
in to save us. Yosef’s going down to Egypt was the beginning of our first
exile, and Yehudah’s consorting with Tamar sowed the seeds of our final
redemption, for from Tamar, through Peretz, King David, and ultimately Moshiach
ben David, would descend. While we think we are going about our individual
lives, Hashem is weaving the threads together into the tapestry of the history
He is creating. Everything we do, writes Rabbi Asher Weiss, is spun by Hashem
to be part of this tapestry.
In
this context, Rabbi Mintzberg, the Ben Melech, proves that Hashem is
always in charge. There are times when His presence is reveale
d
in the open, supernatural miracles of our history, from our inception with the
miraculous conceptions and births of our Patriarchs, to the plagues and
redemption from Egypt, to the capture of the Land under Joshua. But the
seemingly natural progress of human interaction is also orchestrated by
Hakodosh Boruch Hu. That Yitzchak Avinu blessed Yaakov Avinu instead of Esau
seems to be the result of Rivkah’ Imenu’s machinations. Yet Hashem was the real
Planner. That Yaakov Avinu married Leah first may have been the result of
Lavan’s deception, but was nevertheless part of Hashem’s plan. It is through
Leah that royalty descends, as it does from Ruth, the Moabite convert who
happens to wander into the field of Boaz to glean. We act, but we seldom see
where the stitches of our actions fall in the complete tapestry.
Nevertheless,
the whole episode with Yehudah and Tamar seems somewhat lurid. Why is so much
of the Messianic ancestry couched in such seemingly dark backgrounds and times
of concealment of God’s Presence? Alshich Hakadosh, posits that
extremely sacred objects must be hidden in the most mundane and unholy of
places to sidetrack the Satan from suspecting their presence. The sparks for
Moshiach were first hidden in the seemingly lurid acts of Lot’s daughters, then
in the episode of Yehudah and Tamar, and finally within Ruth, a Moabite. [This
would be similar to hiding valuables in a plain, brown paper bag to thwart
thieves. CKS]
Nevertheless,
asks the Sifsei Chaim, why do these seeds of redemption need to be
planted in the dark times of concealment? When Things appear darkest, writes
Rabbi Friedlander citing the Ramchal, that’s when Hashem is actually installing
the batteries to shine the greatest light. It is by holding on to our faith
during these challenges that we earn the light Hashem wishes to shine on us.
Without this merit, every one of our misdeeds would be magnified, and the Satan
would challenge the flow of goodness. The challenges we face lessen our
accountability. The darkness of evening and night must precede the light of
morning. Hope, light and redemption must grow from the darkness of despair.
It
is brokenness itself that generates rebirth, notes the Netivot Shalom.
It is from the rotting seed that the new plant grows, from the seemingly
“rotten” seeds that Moshiach will eventually emerge.
It
is within this same context that Hashem praises Moshe Rabbenu Rabbenu when he
smashed those first luchot. From those broken Tablets and the despair of
Bnei Yisroel’s emerged the hope that donning sackcloth in teshuvah would bring
God’s presence back to reside within Bnei Yisroel, continues the Slonimer
Rebbe. Despite everything, in deepest despair Bnei Yisroel refused to give up
hope.
This
indeed was the basis of Yaakov Avinu’s refusal to be comforted at the alleged
death of Yosef. If he were resigned to Yosef’s death, he could be comforted,
but deep down, he still held out hope and faith that Yosef Hatzakik was alive.
The
worst that can happen to a Jew is that he loses hope. If you keep believing,
there will be some redemption, albeit it may differ from the one you desired.
Chanukah especially, but Purim as well, is perhaps the most obvious example of
this premise. How could a band of thirteen Jews go up against the greatest
empire of the era, an empire with an army of thousands supported by powerful
elephants, the virtual tanks of the time? That band of rebels had to have hope
and faith the Redeemer, concealed in His abode on high. Every year, when we
remember the feat of that small band of Maccabees in those days, we must renew
our hope and strengthen our faith in these times.
Rabbi
Schlesinger in Eleh Hadvorim asks an interesting question. Of all the
mitzvoth, why is it only Chanukah that we are commanded to publicize as
miraculous? We generally place the menorah in our windows or doorways so that
the light can be seen in the darkness outside. When there is darkness, explains
Rav Schlesinger, we must believe in the coming light. In the darkness of our
current golus/exile, we must believe in the coming of Moshiach. The
medrash alludes to the connection with the origins of Moshiach in this parsha. Moshi”yach
is an acronym for madlikim shmonat yemei Chanukah/[We]
light [for] the eight days of Chanukah.
This
brings us to contemplate a new perspective on the insertion of the Yehudah
episode at this juncture. While all the other members of the Israel family were
involved in some form of the darkness of mourning, writes Rabbi Scheinerman in Ohel
Moshe Rabbenu, it was only Yehudah whom the brothers had pushed down from
his position of authority who moved forward with hope and started a new family.
That characteristic of hope in the face of despair is a major characteristic of
Jews who are known by the name Yehudim/Jewdim.
Yehudah
reinforces that impression of his persona when the viceroy of Egypt, Yosef
Hatzakikin disguise, accuses Binyamin of having stolen the royal goblet and all
seems lost. While the brothers rend their garments, Yehudah steps forth to
argue the case before Yosef, hoping for salvation. It is Yehudah’s pleas that
arouse Yosef’s compassion to reveal himself to his brothers. Yehudah always
drives forward doe future success, looking forward, not constantly looking back
to the past in a rear view mirror that would inevitably invite a crash.
Yehudah
did not let despair gain complete control over him. When he thought he had lost
everything with the grief his advice to sell Yosef Hatzakik generated, he
decided to start life anew and serve Hashem with the first mitzvah, with
marriage and having children. This was the faith Hashem rewarded by planting
the seed of Moshiach through Yehudah.
It
is behind the scenes, in concealment, that Hashem moves His plan forward. If
the butler forgets about Yosef Hatzakik after being released from prison,
Hashem doesn’t forget him. In every situation, Hashem still watches waits for
the proper time for salvation. And Rabbi Svei notes that Yosef Hatzakik himself
was also waiting. Yosef Hatzakikwas waiting for the fulfillment of His dreams.
And while Hashem watches and waits, Moshe Rabbenu, saved from the Nile’s
waters, also waits in the house of Yitro. He is waiting for the prophecies of
Miriam to be actualized. He watches to see the message of the burning bush.
When Hashem calls out to him, Moshe Rabbenu is ready and immediately responds,
“Hinenei/here I am.”
Tamar
also knew her destiny, to be the ancestress of Moshiach. She waited and acted.
So did those following in that line, Ruth and King David. Each waited and
anticipated the moment they would be called upon to play their role in the
panorama of history.
But
that mindset doesn’t end in Biblical times. Out of the ashes of the Holocaust,
Rav Aaron Kotler zt”l, the Satmar Rebbe zt”l and other Rebbeim rebuilt world
Judaism and Torah institutions on new shores. They knew they were saved for a
purpose. They would not give in to despair; they would build on faith and hope.
We need to build on that same faith and hope, and await the coming of Moshiach
in great anticipation.
Today,
especially during Chanukah, we must ask ourselves what we can do to advance the
coming of the Moshiach. We can certainly pray, but is there something I can
also do toward that goal?
Rabbi
Gladstein quotes the Sefat Emet who notes that Chanukah means inauguration, for
it is not the end of a historical era, but the beginning of the era to herald
the coming of the Messiah.
And
what will that time be like? Rabbi Mintzberg paints a beautiful picture of
those times whose hidden light was revealed in that first Chanukah and is
hidden every year in our Chanukah candles. That is the perfection of nature
itself, as a component of the primal light, concealed since creation. Nature
itself will give forth bountiful fruit and harvest without the toil now
necessary, Childbirth itself will be eased. In this context, the Maccabees’
victory, as was the burning of the oil for eight days, was natural and man
made, not miraculous, for it was a pre-vision of the world in the Messianic
era.
Time
itself takes on a different dimension in the Messianic era, writes Rabbi
Wolfson. When the Sages say that the holiday derives its name from the date of
the Maccabees’ victory, chanu chof heh/[they] rested on the twenty fifth
day [of Kislev], they could not mean that all eight days would be represented
by the first day. Rather, posits Rabbi Wolfson, they meant that time itself was
changed, and a year will be counted as one day. The oil lasting eight days,
according to this calculation, was not a miracle, but simply a precursor of
what to expect as nature in Messianic times. The Maccabees could see all eight
days in one day.
In
this long and bitter golus, our homes with our personal menorahs become
a personal Beit Hamikdosh. Look at the candles and get a glimpse and taste of
that future, beautiful era. Each of us has the potential to be a symbolic
Eliyahu Hanavi, to hasten and proclaim the coming of Moshiach. We can build
toward the future with hope and faith, as did Yehudah, the tribal patriarch for
whom our people are named.