Vayechi 5784 ~ December 29, 2023

The ball is going to drop once again from the top of One Times Square this year. Do you sense the same uneasiness as I do celebrating New Year’s this year? It seems almost impossible to get into that spirit, with all that we as a Jewish world and a Jewish people have experienced beginning on October 7^th.  How will celebrating a secular new year bring any source of comfort?

If we read through Jacob’s predictions for his children in our Torah reading, we might be equally dumbfounded. His assessment of each of his sons’ lives, foreshadowing the future, is anything but positive.

There are a couple notes of positivity, however.  Jacob’s reading of Judah’s tea leaves has the possibility of allaying our fears. Within these words we find that Judah will take charge of Israel’s might and leadership, based on the what he has experienced through the actions of his enemy. And, it is in the territory of Judah that much of Israel exists today:

You, O Judah, your brothers shall praise;
Your hand shall be on the nape of your foes;
Your father’s sons shall bow low to you.

Judah is a lion’s whelp;
On prey, my son, have you grown.
He crouches, lies down like a lion,
Like a lioness —who dare rouse him?

The scepter shall not depart from Judah,
Nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet;
So that tribute shall come to him 
And the homage of peoples be his.

And then there are the words that end Jacob’s assessment of his son, Dan, that are quite hopeful:

I wait for Your deliverance, O Hashem, The Hebrew words “lishuatkha kiviti Hashem” are ones that are often expressed in Jewish liturgy to express a hope for the future.

Hope… it is something that we yearn for at the end of this secular year. As we come to the end of the reading of the Book of Genesis on this Shabbat, we wish for Jacob and his children, as well. We want every book to close “happy ever after,” versus a “Grimm fairytale.”

In that regard, Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky seems perplexed that the story of our Torah reading ends with the death of Joseph, which does not have complete closure and an ending that leads to a vision of hope.

When Joseph dies, he asks that one day he be buried in the land of Canaan. Rabbi Kamenetzky  asks, “Why is there not a conclusion? Why not bring the casket of Joseph’s body up to Canaan as was done with his father Yaakov?”

Rabbi Kamenetzky provides us with a wonderful answer:  the box is a symbol of hope – if it remains in Egypt, then the Children of Israel have a message of hope. “By remaining in a box, Yoseph concurrently declared his message of hope and solidarity to the multitudes that simultaneously awaited his final burial and their redemption. Silently, in an unburied box, he waited with them as the echoes of his pact rang in their memories. "When G-d will indeed remember you, then you must bring my bones up with you."

It is a message for all generations. It is a message for all times. When we see the bones of Yoseph, unburied and in a box -- "we must not see a box of bones -- see the hope that lies therein." We see the hope and faith that the patriarch declared to his children. "Do not bury me now, as you surely will be remembered one day. My hope is your hope."

As a secular New Year approaches and the ball drops in Times Square, perhaps it is that hope that we can pray will not only guide our world, but will guide Israel, its leaders, its citizens, the IDF and our Jewish world in the year to come.

As the year concludes, let me offer my appreciation to Merrill for her weekly editing of my messages so that they provide clarity and correct grammatical form. At times  Merrill would turn to me and ask a question of clarification so that my message might be a tad more meaningful. She would even edit while away on vacation or on her day off. Merrill, I will truly miss you in the office, as will everyone else.

Shabbat shalom and Happy New Year.

Rabbi K