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Rav Kook (Ein Ayah, Gemara Shabbat 89b)

Our father Ya’akov should have gone down to Egypt in iron chains [as the exile in Egypt was decreed by G-d, as told to Avraham]. However, Ya’akov’s merit caused him to descend without suffering, as it is written (Hoshea 11:4): “I drew them with cords of man, with cords of love, and I was to them like those who remove the yoke, and I fed them gently.” (Gemara Shabbat 84b)

The Egyptian exile is not simply another event in the history of the Jewish people. It established the spiritual template for all of Israel’s future exiles. But what is the purpose of galut? This question cannot be answered without properly understanding Ya’akov and his children’s descent into Egypt.

Our time in Egypt is primary associated with centuries of bitter enslavement. We commemorate our suffering each year at the Seder and are commanded to remember G-d’s deliverance on a daily basis. But not all of our time in Egypt was agonizing. From Parshat Vayigash and Parshat Vayechi, it is clear that Ya’akov and his extended family were quite comfortable. Yosef was the most respected and influential Israelite member of Egyptian society, but certainly not the only one. Ya’akov was especially admired, to the point that, according to the midrash, he insisted on not being buried in Egypt because he was worried that the Egyptians would deify him.[1]

Ya’akov’s years in Egypt were arguably the best of his life. He was no longer hiding from his brother’s murderous rage or dealing with the machinations of his scheming father-in-law. He was finally re-united with his beloved son Yosef. And he lived out his remaining years not only in physical comfort, but with the spiritual comfort of knowing that his entire family had followed in his path.

Of course, we know that this rosy picture did not last. After Ya’akov died, Egypt’s openness was soon replaced with whips, slavery, and infants being thrown into the Nile. Given the darkness of the post-Ya’akov period in Egypt, we are inclined to dismiss the good years as an illusion. Or more cynically, we conclude that we were never meant to thrive in Egypt in the first place.

However, this is not correct. Exile is more than just a punishment or Divinely inflicted suffering. We do not believe that our time in exile is devoid of spiritual value, merely a placeholder until the redemption and the return of Eretz Yisrael. No, Israel’s exile has spiritual purpose as well. It serves to spread belief in G-d and disseminate knowledge of His name throughout the world. G-d explains as much when he tells Moshe that he is sending him to Pharaoh “so that Egypt will know that I am G-d” (Shemot 7:5). And our Sages tell us in the Talmud (Pesachim 87b) that “The Holy One exiled Israel only so that converts will join them.” Many sources understand this as a reference not only to literal converts, but to any non-Jewish society that absorbs refined notions of ethics and Divinity by coming into contact with Jews.

The foundation of this positive conception of exile was laid by Ya’akov. Ya’akov was a towering spiritual personality, and his merits made it impossible for G-d to exile him to Egypt “in iron chains.” His descent to Egypt was Divinely orchestrated through Yosef’s rise to power, and he came down willingly, as if drawn by “cords of love.” In Hoshea’s words, as understood by our Sages in the Talmud, the “yoke” of slavery was still in G-d’s hands, but – for a time – it was removed from Ya’akov and his family.

Thus, our Sages teach us a richer and more profound understanding of exile and its spiritual purpose. Suffering, pogroms and persecution characterize much of Israel’s exile among the nations, but that is only part of the picture. Ya’akov teaches us that when we are worthy and emulate his example, galut is an opportunity to disseminate the light of G-d and uplift other nations. That goal is not thwarted when Jews are honored and respected in the lands of their exile. On the contrary, provided that we are completely dedicated to G-d and his Torah, then honor, respect, and prosperity magnify our ability to influence others.

“And many peoples shall go and say, “Come, let us go up to the Lord’s mount, to the house of the G-d of Ya’akov, and let Him teach us of His ways, and we will go in His paths,” for out of Zion shall the Torah come forth, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. That process doesn’t start once the redemption comes. It begins while Israel is still in exile.

Food for Thought

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (Covenant and Conversation, Balak 5775): Nowhere in Tanakh are we told that it will be the fate of Israel or Jews to be hated. To the contrary, the prophets foresaw that there would come a time when the nations would turn to Israel for inspiration. Isaiah envisaged a day on which “Many peoples will come and say, ‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the temple of the G-d of Jacob. He will teach us his ways, so that we may walk in his paths.’ The law will go out from Zion, the word of the Lord from Jerusalem” (Isaiah 2:3). Zechariah foresaw that “In those days ten people from all languages and nations will take firm hold of one Jew by the hem of his robe and say, ‘Let us go with you, because we have heard that G-d is with you.’” (Zechariah 8:23). These are sufficient to cast doubt on the idea that antisemitism is eternal, incurable, woven into Jewish history and destiny.

Only in rabbinic literature do we find statements that seem to suggest that Israel is hated. Most famous is the statement of Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai “It is well known that Esau hates Jacob.” Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai was known for his distrust of the Romans, whom the rabbis identified with Esau/Edom. It was for this reason, says the Talmud, that he had to go into hiding for thirteen years. His view was not shared by his contemporaries.[2][And] those who quote this passage do so only partially and selectively. It refers to the moment at which Jacob and Esau met after their long estrangement. Jacob feared that Esau would try to kill him. After taking elaborate precautions and wrestling with an angel, the next morning he sees Esau. The verse then says: “Esau ran to meet them. He hugged [Jacob], and throwing himself on his shoulders, kissed him. They [both] wept” (Bereishit 33:4). Over the letters of the word “kissed” as it appears in a Sefer Torah, there are dots, signaling some special meaning. It was in this context that Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai said: “Even though it is well known that Esau hates Jacob, at that moment he was overcome with compassion and kissed him with a full heart.” In other words, precisely the text cited to show that antisemitism is inevitable, proves the opposite: that at the crucial encounter, Esau did not feel hate toward Jacob. They met, embraced and went their separate ways without ill-will.

There is, in short, nothing in Judaism to suggest that it is the fate of Jews to be hated. It is neither written into the texture of the universe nor encoded in the human genome. It is not the will of G-d. Only in moments of deep despair have Jews believed this…

Rav Shimson Raphael Hirsch (19 Letters): Only for a short time was Israel able to attain its ideal, the fulfillment of its mission in prosperity… [But] it became necessary to take away the abundance of earthly good, the wealth and the land, which had led it away from its mission; it was obliged to leave the happy soil which had seduced it from its allegiance to the Most High; nothing could be saved except the soul of its existence, the Torah; no other bond of unity should henceforth exist except “G-d and its mission,” which are indestructible, because they are spiritual. Through the annihilation of Israel’s state-life its mission did not cease, for that had been intended only as a means to an end. On the contrary, this destruction itself was part of its fate; so strangely commingled of divine and human elements, in exile and dispersion its mission was to be resumed in a different manner…. Destruction and misfortune are therefore no less instructive for Israel than prosperity. The dispersion opened a new, great, and wide-extended field for the fulfillment of its mission… The nation was scattered into the four quarters of the earth, unto all peoples and all zones, in order that… it might better fulfill its mission…

Questions for Discussion

1. Rav Kook discusses some spiritual goals that Israel is able to accomplish in exile. Can you think of any others?
2. Any of us could theoretically buy a plane ticket and be in Israel in less than 24 hours. What are our reasons for staying in exile? Are those good reasons?
3. Is it inevitable that our experience in any country ends in suffering and anti-Semitism? Why or why not?
4. What do you think is behind the recent outbursts of anti-Semitism in America? What would Rav Kook say?
5. Do you agree with Rav Kook that Ya’akov’s years in Egypt were among the best of his life?
6. What are some of the spiritual dangers and challenges of Jewish life in exile?

[1] Bereishit Rabbah 96:5 and Gemara Ketubot 111a, cited by Rashi on Bereishit 47:29.

[2] R. Jonathan Ziring has an excellent shiur on this at YUTorah.org, titled “Eisav Sonei et Yaakov? Some Contemporary Thoughts.” He demonstrates that even Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai’s position has been misinterpreted and taken to extremes that he did not intend.

Translation (Ein Ayah – Berachot):

Exercising power in a self-aggrandizing manner [1] (lit. הנוהג עצמו ברבנות) is one of three things that shortens a person’s life… As R. Chama b. Chanina taught, this is the reason that Yosef died before his brothers. (Gemara Berachot 55a)

This teaching of our Sages is not about someone whose exercise of power is motivated by egotism or delusions of grandeur. After all, our Sages refer to Yosef, and we know that he did not have such lowly motivations. So they must be discussing someone who acts in a self-aggrandizing manner even in the service of lofty and holy goals. But what is so wrong with that? Why such a severe punishment for what seems like a minor transgression?

Someone who strives after lofty goals is liable to overlook the importance of matters – whether spiritual, material or ethical – that are comparatively less significant. This uncalibrated perspective fails to give due care to each of life’s concerns, and is a stumbling block in one’s path. For while life abounds with matters whose importance pales in comparison to greater goals, God has allotted a place and a purpose for everything. [2] And there are consequences for ignoring those smaller things – as our Sages teach above, one’s life is literally shortened. This is not a punishment, but simply the natural consequence of an uncalibrated way of living.

Our Sages pick Yosef to illustrate this principle. As viceroy of Egypt, he supervised the national and economic affairs of Egypt, at the time the most powerful empire in the world. As if this were not significant enough, Yosef saw his position of power as the vehicle for (i) realizing his prophetic dream about his family members bowing down to him [3] and (ii) fulfilling God’s decree to Abraham about his children being exiled in a foreign land. In particular, the Midrash criticizes Yosef for remaining silent when his brothers – who did not yet know Yosef’s true identity – referred to Ya’akov as “your servant.” [4] Putting this together with the gemara in Berachot cited above, our Sages are attributing Yosef’s lack of kibud av to his overriding concern with realizing his elevated and world-historic goals. He did not – and did not want to – let minor points of etiquette or protocol compromise that objective.

We learn from here that a complete life requires granting importance and accord to all things. We should not allow even the loftiest goals to crowd out our concern for matters of lesser value. After all, the moments of life actively filled with major goals and aspirations are few and far between. Most of our time and energy is occupied with small things. But this is not a zero-sum game or a tradeoff. If we conduct ourselves with integrity and strive to manifest goodness in all areas of life, then God will certainly bless us with strength to realize our lofty goals as well. [5]

Commentary/Sources for Further Research

A religious life is full of challenges, and there are different ways of conceptualizing this challenge. Much of mussar literature focuses on the struggle between the soul and the body’s physical desires. Other sources discuss the conflict between inner authenticity and insincere conformity with outside pressures. [6] Rav Kook, with his unique insight, identifies another dimension – the challenge of balancing significant and lofty goals with the matters that are comparably less important.

This may sound overly abstract, but consider:

• The parent driving carpool who cuts off another driver in order to make it to school in time.
• The startup founder who defrauds investors because she needs money to manufacture a product she genuinely believes will change the world. [7]
• The teenager who returns from shanah aleph and expresses his passion for his newly religious lifestyle by (i) cutting off all contact with his less religious friends and (ii) provoking conflict with his parents.
• The employee who lies or makes ethical compromises in order to rise through the corporate ranks, so that he can support his family.

Rav Kook teaches that although importance is relative, there are no unimportant things in life. We must implement the Torah’s laws and values in all circumstances. Our involvement in lofty matters doesn’t allows us to triage some religious priorities or compromise on others. This might seem demanding or harsh, but it’s actually quite practical. As Rav Kook notes,  transformative moments of the sort Yosef was focused on are few and far between. We spend most of our life dealing with the small and the unremarkable. These “small” moments are not meant to be dismissed. They can be – and should be – infused with integrity, light and Divine purpose.

Questions for Reflection and Discussion

1. What are the “big” and the “small” things in your life which generate the sort of tension Rav Kook discusses?
2. Practically speaking, how are we supposed to decide how to calibrate between “big” and “small” things? Decide on our own? Look to the Torah for guidance? Ask others? (See footnote 5.)
3. Rav Kook understands that a certain tension between “big” and “small” is an intrinsic part of life and human nature. Do you think that modern life creates more of a challenge in this regard? I.e., do we have to deal with more “small” things than our parents or earlier generations? Are we doing a good job of striking the right balance?
4. What was one time in your life where you feel like you succeeded at striking the right balance between the “big” and the “small”?
5. We’re coming up to the story of the Exodus. Can you think of a potential conflict between Moshe and Aaron where Moshe showed proper regard for the “small”, and didn’t let his mission overshadow the importance of respect for others?
6. Sometimes, religious inconsistency is motivated by an incorrect balance between “big” and “small” priorities. If this interests you (or irks you), check out this collection of talmudic sources from Torah Musings.

[1]  It’s hard to find an English translation that captures the flavor of this Hebrew phrase. The Artscroll Talmud renders it as “assumes airs of authority” or “acts in an overbearing manner,” and Rav Chanan Morrison (Sapphire From the Land of Israel, pg. 97) translates it as “assumes a position of authority.” I think my translation is closer to what Rav Kook is getting at.

[2]   Rav Kook cites the fourth chapter of Pirkei Avot – אל תהי בז לכל אדם, ואל תהי מפליג לכל דבר,שאין לך אדם שאין לו שעה ואין לך דבר שאין לו מקום.

[3]   In assuming that this was the motivation behind Yosef’s behavior toward his brothers, Rav Kook follows Ramban (on Bereishit 42:9). Ramban uses this premise to explain why Yosef never “phoned home” to his family after he became viceroy of Egypt. See here for further discussion.

[4]   According to Pirkei D’Rebbe Eliezer, Yosef predeceased his brothers by five years, and this was a punishment for each of the five that his brothers referred to Ya’akov as “your servant.”

[5]   In a portion of Ein Ayah not translated above, Rav Kook notes that a Jewish king is commanded to carry around a sefer Torah, for which the Torah promises that “he and his descendants will live a long life” (Devarim 17:20). According to Rav Kook, this is not a mystical segulah or even a practical means of making sure the king follows the Torah. The king, as a result of his position of power, needs to learn how to properly calibrate between the “big” and the “small,” and the Torah provides that guidance.

[6]   Most of the sources on this tension come from the Chasidic world. In this regard, an excellent work is The Quest for Authenticity, about Rav Simcha Bunim of Peshischa, which you should really purchase immediately. Come on, everyone is doing it…

[7]   See here for the astounding tale of greed, duplicity and deception surrounding a company called Theranos.