Light, Hidden and Revealed
In this parsha Rav Schorr spends time discussing not just the words of the parsha, but the spaces of the parsha. Or more accurately, he discusses the lack of space between this parsha and the parsha before. The spaces in the Torah are a significant part of the Torah, with their own set of rules and meaning. The chachamim tell us that in the spaces of the Torah we have the room to grasp and absorb its light. Places in the Torah like “Az Yashir,” which was sung after the revelation at Yam Suf, and which is written in a unique and open brick-like pattern, are places where the guiding hand of Hashem is easily grasped. And places in the Torah like Parshat Vayetzei, which describes Yaacov’s time in galut and is written with no spaces at all, are places where it is much harder to grasp Hashem’s guiding hand. This is not, of course, because Hashem is not guiding us. Hashem guides us in times of galut even as He guides us in times of geulah. However, in the dark and closed spaces of galut the light is hidden. Nevertheless, even though the light of the open spaces is recognizably great, there is even greater light hidden in the closed spaces of the Torah.
Our Parsha begins with an unusual closed space. Between Parshat Vayigash and Parshat Vayechi, where we would have expected a space of nine letters, there is instead a space of only one letter. Rashi quotes Pesachim 56a to explain. The Gemara tells us that at the end of his life Yaacov gathered his children together, intending to reveal to them “the end.” However, the moment he opened his mouth, the Shechina left him. Scared, Yaacov wondered if this was because one of his sons was not worthy. His sons in unison answered, “Shema Yisrael, Hashem Elokeinu Hashem echad,” and he answered, “Baruch shem kavod malchuto l’olam va’ed.”
The Gemara seems to imply that the closed space between the parshiot reflects Yaacov’s inability to give over the revelation of “the end” to his children. The Zohar, however, hints at a deeper reality. The closed space between the two parshiot connects the words “And they (Klal Yisrael) were fruitful and multiplied greatly (47:27),” to “And Yaacov lived (47:28).” The closed space expresses the connection between the chayut, the life-force of Yaacov, and the souls of the Jewish people. Rav Schorr tells us that that Yaacov did, in fact, transmit what he wanted to transmit, but not in an open way. What Yaacov succeeded in doing was imprinting his life force into each and every one of his descendants, giving us the strength to withstand the galut.
To understand this more deeply, we have to understand something about the spiritual nature of galut. Chazal describe galut as planting (see Hosea 2:25 and Pesachim 87b). What happens when we plant something? We put a seed in the ground, and it appears to rot completely. Then, from the remains of that seed a new plant is born. Something similar happens though the process of galut. In every galut there is a spiritual light which accompanies us throughout the galut. That light might appear very dim at times, but it is from that light that the geulah is formed.
This is the meaning behind the kabbalistic idea that Hashem had to rush us out of Mitzrayim because we had sunk to the 49th level of tumah. This is not because at the 50th level of tumah Hashem would no longer be able to take us out. There is, of course, no limit to what Hashem can do. However, at the 50th level of tumah, the original spark of kedusha has been destroyed. At that point, the concept of geulah no longer applies. There is nothing left from the original light which can be redeemed. The geulah from Mitzrayim was a geulah of the original point of chiyut, spiritual life, which Yaacov implanted in each and every Jew.
How can we understand this point of chiyut, this life force? Rav Schorr explains that Yaacov lived the last seventeen years of his life in a state that was olam haba within this world. He experienced personal geulah even in the midst of national galut. This is what Yaacov wanted to share with his children when he gathered them together, and said, “I will tell you what will happen to you at the end of days.” And then, in the Torah, the subject is dropped. This is because, while Yaacov saw with perfect clarity the unity of the entire world and how each and every part of the world expresses the Will of Hashem, there was no way to directly transmit this to anyone else.
However, although Yaacov could not transmit his vision accurately to his children, he could instill within us emunah. Yaacov’s children said to him, “Shema Yisrael, Hashem Elokeinu, Hashem Echad.” By this they meant, “Listen, our father Yisrael, we know and understand that Hashem, the Hashem that is above and beyond our comprehension, is the same Hashem who is Elokim, the force behind the entire system of nature, and that everything that we experience and see in this world comes from one source, one Hashem. But we do not know this, as you know this, with blinding clarity. We can only experience it through emunah.”
In galut, emunah is the key to survival. To his children’s declaration of emunah, Yaacov replied, “Baruch Shem Kavod Malchuto L’Olam Va’ed: Hashem’s Name, His Glory, His Kingship in the World, will be blessed forever.” This is a pure expression of Hashem’s oneness in the world. We can’t say loudly, as Yaacov did. However, we do whisper it, twice a day, every day, after we say the shema. Yaacov could not express his vision directly to us, but the whisper of Yaacov’s blinding clarity is still alive within us today. Yaacov’s yearning to reveal the end left an imprint on us. We have emunah. We carry the yearning for geulah with us. And we carry the knowledge that within us is the light of personal geulah which we can access even in the midst of galut.