Vayechi reminds us to bring our brothers home
This week is Parshat Vayechi, the final parsha of sefer Bereishit. Vayechi means “and he lived,” referring specifically to Yaakov Avinu, who lived the last 17 years of his life in galut, in Egypt.
But as the parsha makes clear, Yaakov is adamant that Yosef have him buried at home, in Eretz Yisrael, to the point of requiring Yosef to swear an oath that he will fulfill his father’s final wish.
Later in the parsha, we note that Yosef, too, does not want his remains to stay forever interred in Egypt, and instructs his children and brothers to have his bones removed and buried in the Holy Land. But as we know, it will take many years until that happens.
Our forefathers had to live through the persecutions of Egypt — torture, murder and slavery. Then, through the miraculous Yetziat Mizraim. With Hashem’s open intervention, they were able to leave, taking Yosef’s bones with them. But because of their own misguided actions, instead of almost immediately entering Eretz Canaan, they had to wander another 38 years. They then had to battle to conquer the land until they were able to resettle in Shechem, Yosef’s biblical portion, and bury him there.
All told, it was over 250 years until they were able to inter Yosef in the land of his — and our — fathers.
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Ironically, this parsha — which begins “and he lived” and has the very word for “life” in its name — is actually preoccupied with death. In addition to the aforementioned Yaakov and Yosef, the parsha also notes Leah imenu’s death when it describes the Me’arat HaMachpelah in Hevron, the burial place of Avraham and Sarah, Yitzchak and Rivka (as the pasuk, 49:3, says, Yaakov relates before his own death: “and there I buried Leah”).
The haftarah for our parsha is also about death — that of David, the greatest king of Israel, father of fthe uture Melech HaMashiach. It begins:
And the days of David drew near that he should die…
What is it about us and our seeming preoccupation with death? Chazal explain that this is our own misconception. They tell us quite clearly that there are two stages to life — the life we naturally experience day to day, (olam hazeh), and the life after what we call “death” (colloquially known as the “afterlife,” olam haba).
What olam haba means in practice, we do not know because it is shrouded in mystery. Yet its acceptance — including the idea of techiyat hameitim (resurrection of the dead) — is one of the pillars of our faith. It is no euphemism, therefore, that cemeteries in Israel can be referred to as Eretz HaChaim (the Land of the Living).
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Which brings us to Ran Gvilli, the last hostage, whose body is somewhere in Gaza.
At the age of 24, on Oct. 7, 2023, he was home in Meitar, southern Israel, awaiting surgery on his shoulder. When the onslaught began, he put on his police uniform and went out to fight. He was killed defending Kibbutz Alumim.
I, like most of you, had never heard of him before this. By our standard definition, he is no longer alive. But by the standards of parshat Vayechi, he is alive. He lost his corporeal life defending the Jewish people al kiddush Hashem — making him a tzaddik, on par with Yosef, and he must not be abandoned.
At a Kabbalat Shabbat service in Tel Aviv’s Hostage Square that was attended by mostly non-observant Jews, Ran’s mother passionately spoke out, beseeching those present:
When we talk about unity — this is precisely that unity. Because at the end of the day we really are a strong nation, and we stick with each other. Rani is not just my boy — he’s your boy, too. He needs you now because he’s going to be abandoned.
This is what our Torah — this is what yahadut — demands of us. This is our correction, our cure for all that ails us, our secret weapon, our superpower: achdut, ahavat achim.
And finally, another tzaddik — Eitan Oster.
He is the namesake of the recently launched Iron Beam laser weapon system that is a game changer in the defense of Israel and the pursuit of our enemies. Only hours prior to this writing, it was announced that the system is fully operational in the field. It was named the Or Eitan — the Light of Eitan, or the Mighty Light.
He was the first to fall in battle in Lebanon against Hezbollah on Oct. 2, 2024, at age 22 — almost a year to the day after the fall of Ran Gvilli in Gaza. From the town of Modiin, a member of B’nei Akiva, a student at a hesder yeshiva, an observant Jew and commander of the elite Egoz reconnaissance unit, he had won an Outstanding Officer’s Award in August 2023.
His father, Dov, is one of the engineers who developed the laser system.
Yosef. Ran. Eitan. Brothers in life, brothers in the afterlife.
And just as the brothers came together with Yosef — and their descendants made certain that ultimately Yosef’s body was brought home — we must come together and bring all our brave kedoshim home.
This is a typical week in the life of a Jew. Review the parsha. Read the news. Put it all together. Thank you, Hashem.
Chazak chazak v’nitchazek.
Shabbat shalom.
Write: Columnist@TheJewishStar.com
