The Short Vort by Rabbi Eisenman

Time to Say Good Shabbos*

(Lyrics by Abie Rotenberg)

As I write these words the Sun has just risen over the hills surrounding Yerushalayim.

I have just learned the Parsha and although I have been learning the Parsha for over half a century, a new question arose in my heart.

The Parsha begins with Yaakov leaving his home (and our home), the land of Israel for the diaspora of Charan.

For the first time in my life, I wondered to myself, “How did Yaakov the human being feel at that moment?”

How did he feel when he was told by no one less than his own father to leave the land promised to his grandfather and father, the land which is own father never left, and to go away from Eretz Yisroel?

Rashi informs us that when the Tzaddik left Be’er Sheva it left a spiritual void in the city of Be’er Sheva.

However, Rashi never tells us the answer to the question which gives me no rest.

Namely, I now know that the people of Be’er Sheva felt spiritually bereft upon Yaakov’s departure; however, Rashi never addresses the question of ‘How did Yaakov feel?’

I know I am not allowed to ask this question, however, in my simple mind, there are no “improper questions.”

After all, don’t we say, (Pirkei Avos 2:6) “A shy person does not learn”?

So despite my recognition of the dangers of overly humanizing the great patriarch Yaakov, I cannot repress my own feelings and I cannot remain silent as I honestly ask, how did Ya’akov feel when he was forced to leave the land of Israel?

I would imagine he felt a complexity of emotions, one of them certainly in no small measure was the emotion of “fear”.

How could he not feel at least a tinge of discomfort of being forced to abandon the Land of hs father and grandfather?

Perhaps Hashem’s recognition of Yaakov’s honest emotion of fear is the reason immediately upon beginning his journey to leave the land, he falls asleep and Hashem appears to him.

Isn’t Hashem responding to this emotion of treidation felt by Yaakov when He assures him,

“I am Hashem, the G-d of Abraham your father, and the G-d of Isaac. The land whereon you rest, to you I give it, and to your seed?”

Hashem is responding to the very natural emotion of fear of leaving the land which Yaakov must have been feeling.

Hashem continues:

“Your descendants shall be as the dust of the earth, and you shall spread abroad to the west, and to the east, and to the north, and to the south. And in you and in your seed shall all the families of the earth be blessed.

And, behold, I am with YOU and will keep YOU wherever you go, and will bring YOU back into this land; for I will never abandon you until I have done that which I have spoken and promised you!”

Hashem reassures Yaakov that indeed it is scary to leave the Land of Israel and Hashem validates Yaakov’s fears while promising him that he and his children will return.

As I sit here learning these words -first spoken thousands of years ago- I am filled with two emotions.

One the one hand, I am saddened and disappointed with myself about how accustomed I have become to living outside the Land of Israel.

I must embarrassingly state that I no longer posses the fear of being outside of Israel which Yaakov felt.

That lack of discomfort, or perhaps more accurately, the total feeling of comfort in living outside of Israel is very troubling for me.

Am I really as uncomfortable as Yaakov was upon having to reside outside of Eretz Yisroel?

I am too embarrassed to answer.

Yet, simultaneously, as I write these words overlooking the Hills of Yerushalayim, I am filled with a tremendous sense of gratitude and of hope and assurance.

For at least for this one holy Shabbos, I am able to say with a tremendous feeling of Simcha and gratitude, “Thank you Hashem, for keeping your word!”

For on this Shabbos I can say in total honesty, that Hashem’s words, “And, behold, I am with YOU and will keep YOU wherever you go, and will bring YOU back into this land”- have been fulfilled.

As on this Shabbos, I am truly “home.”

Thank you Hashem for this Shabbos and whatever happens to me in the future, and wherever I am I will do my best to never forget, that where I am today is the only place in the world I can truly call “home.”

A Good Shabbos to all.