Calamitous Contentment

Were the experiences of Yaakov Avinu and his descendants in Egypt the prototype of subsequent exiles, going from comfort to suffering? And did our forefather make the wrong choice? Our member Rabbi Steven Ettinger investigates.

Between the years 800 and 1930 various countries, municipalities, principalities, noblemen, Church officials, and angry mobs in Europe expelled the Jews from their homes. This happened more than 130 times. As we know, after that date the strategy devolved to one of extermination. In many instances, the Jews enjoyed periods when they were accepted and welcomed as productive members of their communities. In earlier times, they may have had a second-class status, but they had their niche as merchants and in finance—and even mingled with the upper echelons of the citizenry. After emancipation arrived in various countries, they assimilated into the professions and universities and into the worlds of science, art and culture. In other words, although their situation was often precarious, Jews often lived in a fantasy world, the world of “this time will be different”: their neighbors accepted them, they were protected, they were safe, nothing could happen to them. But it did – time and time again. Their comfort resulted in such a credible illusion that they were unable to believe or accept the inevitable as they were led to their near extinction.

Today we are once again witnessing such denial. Jews and their communities in the diaspora suffer: in South America (Buenos Aries), in India (Mumbai), in Australia (Bondi Beach) in the US (Pittsburgh), in France (Toulouse and Montauban) and in New York (multiple incidents on subways, at synagogues and on the streets). Antisemitism is rampant.  Individual Jews and their communities face threats from the Left and the Right: from college campuses and from social media; from influential political commentators and from political leaders. Then there is the rising number of Moslems that are asserting their brand of aggressive power over polite and civilized society.

Nevertheless, most Jews either remain in denial or are so comfortable with the trappings of the material bounty they enjoy that they cannot accept their predicament and reach for their best alternative – their spiritual legacy and true homeland.

They are not alone: they are simply modeling their behavior after their forefather  Yaakov – the choicest and purest of the Avot insofar as all twelve of his sons,were likewise untainted. After experiencing two difficult exiles, in the house of Lavan and in Egypt, he should have yearned for a return to the Land of Israel. Instead, in parashat Vayigash we find that, once the famine ended, “the Jews remained in the Land of Goshen, and they prospered and became very fruitful” (Bereishit 47:27). Yaakov and his sons were so comfortable. Yet a generation or so later they would be enslaved, initiating the pattern of classic antisemitic tropes (Shemot 1:9-10). How was this possible?

History has shown us time and time again how this was possible. Today, despite the warning signs, we have a front row seat to yet another round in this cycle. However, as regards Yaakov, we perhaps should not be so quick to judge. He at least could justify his choice (although one could ask whether he was required to so choose). Turn back to Yaakov’s first “exile.” As he is escaping the wrath of his brother for having taken the berachah of the first-born, fleeing to Padan Aram, something interesting occurs. Yitzchak’s parting words are: “(He) should give to you and your children with you Avraham’s blessing to inherit the land you reside in, that He gave to Avraham” (Bereishit 28:4). In other words, Yaakov did not take the berachah. Yitzchak always intended to pass to him the legacy of Avraham and that legacy was the berachah of Avraham -- the land.

So when did this berachah—this commitment regarding the land—become effective? In truth Hashem dangled this promise before Avram several times, reaching the point where a frustrated Avram finally asked, “How do I know that I will really inherit it?” (Bereishit 15:8). So, Hashem enters into a covenant with him, the brit ben habetarim. The terms were as follows: The Jews would be exiled to a foreign land for four hundred years; they would be enslaved there and, in the end, they would be redeemed with great wealth and given the land (Bereishit 15:13-14). This is when the right of Avram’s children to the land would be fixed.

Yaakov received both the legacy and the burden of this blessing. When he sojourned to Egypt to reunite the entire family – something he thought would never happen from the time Yosef was lost to him – he recognized that this was the beginning of the process that would result in the fulfillment of the berachah. He thus knew that he must choose to stay in Egypt. He remained with his eyes wide open, knowing that his children and their succeeding four generations would suffer.

Is this really what Hashem wanted for Bnei Yisrael? We cannot know. All we know is that this is the choice Yaakov made. And, as they say, the rest is history.

What we do know, with the advantage of hindsight and now with the wisdom of the ages is that, as successive generations of Jews have made this same choice, it has only resulted in catastrophe. There are no beneficial exiles, there are not even benign ones. Blissful ignorance or, worse, contentment leads only to calamity.

Is Galut so bad?

If you were in shul on Monday afternoon, you would have heard a thought-provoking devar Torah by our member Rabbi Paul Bloom, putting to good use those few but precious minutes that separate minchah from maariv.  An expanded version of Paul’s devar Torah was published the same day on Arutz Sheva’s Israel International News website, here, under the title “Is Galut so bad? Bittersweet Exile - A reflection on Galut and the call of Eretz Yisrael”. This is how it reads:

Many years ago, Rabbi Riskin of Efrat visited Highland Park, New Jersey, and described it as an example of "bittersweet Galut." The community boasts yeshivas, shuls, mikvahs, and kosher restaurants—a vibrant Jewish life in exile. Highland Park is one of many communities worldwide where Jews are well-educated, professionally successful, and comfortably settled. Why would anyone willingly trade such a secure and predictable life for the uncertainties of living in Eretz Yisrael?

This question is not new. Jewish communities have faced this dilemma since the very first exile: the Galut of Egypt. This Galut lead to Bnei Yisrael coming home and eventually building the first Beit HaMikdash , but tragically, 80 percent of the Jews in Egypt were unwilling to leave and perished during the Plague of Darkness.

History has repeated this pattern. For example, during the Babylonian exile, when Cyrus allowed the Jews to rebuild the Temple, only a small percentage returned to Israel.

In early 20th-century Europe, many Jews were persuaded by their rabbis to stay put due to concerns over religious observance in Israel and America. Tragically, countless lives might have been saved had Jewish leadership encouraged emigration in the late 1800s and early 1900s (of course, since Hitler and the Mufti were building concentration camps in today's Israel, they would have not have been saved had Rommel won the Battle of El Alamein, which he thankfully lost).

Hindsight reveals the profound dangers of inertia and complacency, yet radical change remains challenging in every era.

The Comfort of Exile

In Parashat Vayigash, we read how the children of Israel grew comfortable in their new, albeit foreign, surroundings. The Torah states:

וישב יִשְׁרָאֵל בְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרִים בְּאָרֶץ גּשֶׁן וַיַחֲזוּ בָּה וַיִפְרוּ וַיֹרְבּוּ מְאָד

"Thus, Israel settled in the land of Egypt, in the region of Goshen; they acquired property there and were fruitful and multiplied greatly" (Bereishit 47:27).

Ya’akov Avinu foresaw the dangers of this complacency and took proactive steps to ensure his descendants would not lose sight of their ultimate mission.

Ya'akov’s Final Request

In this week's parsha, Vayechi, as Ya’akov’s life drew to a close, he summoned Yosef and made an unusual request:

אםּ־נָא מָצָאתִּי חֵן בְּעֵינֵיךּ שִׁים נָא יִדְךּ תַּחֲת יָרַכִי וְעָשִׁיתָּ עָמָדִי חֶסֶד וֶאֵמֶת אַלּ־נָא תְקַבְּרִנִי בֶּמַצָרִים

"If I have found favor in your eyes, please place your hand under my thigh and do kindness and truth with me: do not bury me in Egypt" (Bereishit 47:29).

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch explains the deeper meaning behind this request. While Ya’akov trusted Yosef to fulfill his wishes, he insisted on an oath to emphasize the importance of not being buried in Egypt. This was more than a personal preference; it was a national message.

Pharaoh and the Egyptians likely viewed Ya’akov's burial in Canaan as a rejection of Egypt. For Ya’akov, this act symbolized that his family did not consider Egypt their true home. After 17 years in Egypt, Ya’akov witnessed how the Nile River began to replace the Jordan River in his family’s eyes. Egypt no longer felt like exile to them. This troubled Ya’akov deeply, prompting his emphatic request to be buried in the land of his forefathers.

By expressing this wish as Yisrael, the bearer of the national mission, Ya’akov left a lasting message: Galut is unnatural, a punishment, and must never become permanent. His descendants were to strive for their return to Eretz Yisrael—not just after death, but ideally during their lifetimes.

Living, Not Just Dying, in Eretz Yisrael

The Chatam Sofer sharply criticized those who choose to live in exile but arrange to be buried in Eretz Yisrael. He interpreted the verse "komemiyut l’artzeinu" (“standing upright to our land”) as a call to return to Israel alive, not posthumously. Chazal also condemned this practice, applying harsh words from Yirmiyahu:

וֶנַחֲלָתִּי שָׁמֶתֶּם לָתֹעֵבָה וַתָּבֹאוּ וַתָּמֹאוּ אֶתּ־אֶרצִי

"You turned My inheritance into an abomination during your lifetimes, and defiled My land after your deaths" (Yerushalmi Kilayim 9:4, Bereishit Rabbah 96).

Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi explained that this critique applies to those who could have lived in Eretz Yisrael but chose not to. The Talmud Yerushalmi teaches that there is no comparison between one who returns their soul in the bosom of their homeland and one who does so in foreign lands.

A Legacy of Longing

Before his death, Ya’akov blessed his grandsons, Ephraim and Menashe:

הַמַלְאָךּ הַגֵּאל אֶתִּי מִכָּל־רָע יְבָרֶךּ אֶתּ־הַנְעָרִים וֶיַקָרֵא בָּהֶם שְׁמִי וֶשָׁםִי אַבֹתָי אַבְרָהַם וֶיִצְחַק וִיֳדְגוּ לָרֶב בְּקֵרֶב הָאֶרֶץ

"May the angel who redeemed me from all evil bless the lads, and may my name be called upon them, and the names of my fathers, Avraham and Yitzchak; and may they multiply greatly in the midst of the Land" (Bereishit 48:16).

Ya’akov’s blessing subtly reinforced the importance of longing for Eretz Yisrael. By connecting their blessing to the land, he reminded them of their true homeland and their duty to return.

Eretz Yisrael: The Source of All Blessings

Chazal teach that all blessings flow from Zion:

• Torah: כִי מִצִּיוֹן תָּצְא תֹורָה "For out of Zion shall Torah go forth" (Yeshayahu 2:3).
  
  
• Blessing: יְבָּרֶכְּךּ ה' מִצִיוֹן "May the Lord bless you from Zion" (Tehillim 128:5).
  
  
• Life: כְּטָלִל חַרָמֹן שֶׁיֹרֶד עָל־הָרְרֵי צִיוֹן כִּי שָׁם צָוָה ה' אֶתּ־הַבְּרָכָּה חַיִּם עַד־הָעוֹלָם "Like the dew of Hermon that descends upon the mountains of Zion, for there the Lord has commanded the blessing, eternal life" (Tehillim 133:3).

Today, the opportunity to live in Eretz Yisrael is within reach for almost every Jew. Yet many remain in the comfort of exile, ignoring the profound call of our forefather Ya’akov.

The Time to Act

Will we heed Ya’akov’s warning and take steps to leave the Galut? The land of Israel awaits—a land of unparalleled blessings and divine connection. Let us rise to the challenge, fulfill our destiny, and begin planning our future in the land of our forefathers.