Photo Credit: Jewish Press

“… and the days of Yaakov – the years of his life – were one hundred and forty seven years” (Bereishis 47:28)

 

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Yitzchak Avinu lived 180 years, and Yaakov Avinu lived 147 years – 33 years less than his father. The Baal HaTurim comments that years were taken off Yaakov’s life because of his unintentional curse of Rachel “im asher timtza es elohecha lo yichye”(Bereishis 31:32), as it says in Mishlei (26:2), “an unwarranted curse comes back to he who utters it.” The numerical value of the word yichye (live) is 33.

The Daas Zekeinim suggests a different reason. He notes that the only thing Pharaoh asked Yaakov Avinu in their one encounter was how old he was, and Yaakov responded, “The days of the years of my sojourns have been a hundred and thirty years, few and bad they have been … and they have not reached the life spans of my forefathers ….” (Bereishis 47:8-9). To that Hashem countered: I saved you from Lavan and Eisav, and I returned both Dinah and Yosef to you, and now you are complaining that your years have been few and bad?” Yaakov was punished and lost 33 years of his life, the number of words contained in the short conversation between Pharaoh and Yaakov.

HaGaon R’ Chaim Shmulevitz asks: We can understand that each of Yaakov’s words should lessen his lifespan by one year, totaling 25 years. But why was Yaakov responsible for the eight words of the question that Pharaoh for some reason felt he had to ask?

The answer can be understood according to the Ramban, who asks why Pharaoh was even interested in Yaakov’s age. That was the only question that interested Pharaoh at this historic meeting? It seems that Yaakov Avinu looked exceptionally old, much older than the age people usually reached at that time. But because his life had been difficult and filled with pain he had aged very much. Yaakov was censured because his looks had prompted Pharaoh to feel the need to ask such a question.

In offering another reason for Pharaoh’s query about Yaakov’s age, the commentaries cite the Talmud (Mo’ed Katan 18a) that Pharaoh was all of 1-1/2 feet tall. The Or HaChaim points out that when Yosef brought his father to Pharaoh, the pasuk (47:7) states, “he stood him before Pharaoh.” What does that mean? It should have merely said, “Yosef brought Yaakov his father before Pharaoh.” They explain that when Yaakov entered the room, he didn’t see Pharaoh, as when one is meeting another person he looks ahead, and not downward. Yosef had to tell his father, “Here is the great Pharaoh who rules over the whole world. Look closely so you can see him.” The Medrash relates that since Pharaoh was so short, the doorways in the palace were low. As a result, when typical people would enter to see Pharaoh, they would have to incline their body, making it appear as though they were bowing to Pharaoh. When Yaakov entered, a miracle happened and the doorway heightened so that Yaakov did not have to bow when he entered. Pharaoh recalled reading in the chronicles of Mitzrayim that 500 years earlier when Avraham Avinu had entered through that same doorway, the same miracle had occurred. He was therefore certain that this was Avraham Avinu coming through the doorway, and he asked him, “How old are you? Have you been living all these years?” Yaakov replied that he was not Avraham Avinu and he was only 130 years old, but he looked old because of all his suffering.

Among the many terrible decrees enacted against the Jews during the reign of Nikolai I was the forceful conscription of young Jewish children into the Russian army, its overriding aim being to destroy Jewish life.

There was a widow in the city of Salant who would go from door to door with her young son collecting tzedakah in order to survive. The heads of the community had seized her child and changed his name in order to fill their quota of conscripted children. She ran through the town seeking help from anyone she thought could be of assistance, and her shrieks of pain pierced the heavens, but no one would respond to her pleas.

Shortly thereafter, the great R’ Yisroel of Salant – who had left the city as a boy – returned to his hometown for a Shabbos with his disciple R’ Eliyahu. When the widow saw the majestic countenance of the distinguished R’ Yisroel, she approached him and begged him to help her save her child. She recounted the details of her story, and R’ Yisroel instructed her to remain calm, and to strengthen her emunah and bitachon. He then promised to make every effort to rescue her only child, and told her to return to him after Shabbos.

That Friday night and Shabbos morning, R’ Yisroel davened in the main shul, but did not speak to anyone about the widow’s plight. After Shacharis, all the congregants gathered in the home of the rabbi’s host for Kiddush and the opportunity to obtain a bracha from R’ Yisroel.

However, immediately after making Kiddush, R’ Yisroel rose, and in an unusually loud voice that was totally out of character for him, he began to berate the townspeople. “Thieves! Kidnappers! Murderers!” he called out. “You are all so pious in the observance of Shabbos, yet you do not heed the prohibition of (Shemos 21:16), ‘One who kidnaps a man and sells him, and he was found to have been in his power, he shall be put to death.’ You are so careful to ensure that you eat shmurah matzah and that you have a most beautiful esrog, but the prohibition of (Shemos 22:21), ‘You shall not cause pain to a widow or an orphan’ does not concern you? You are all so scrupulous in your performance of mitzvos with their hiddurim (enhancements), yet you think that allowing a child to be conscripted into the army is permissible? I cannot be together with such people like you!”

R’ Yisroel hurriedly left the house and fled down the road away from the city. The people were in an uproar, dismayed and embarrassed by the scathing words of the usually mild-mannered and gentle R’ Yisroel.

They realized they had no choice but to expend every effort to obtain the release of the child and appease R’ Yisroel of Salant. It was not easy, but eventually the child was freed and returned to his mother, who had determinedly maintained her powerful emunah and bitachon, never giving up hope.

It was only when R’ Yisroel was informed of the safe return of the child that he agreed to return to the city of Salant. The widow came to R’ Yisroel and, falling her to feet, she thanked him with tears of joy for helping to save her son.

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Rabbi Dovid Goldwasser, a prominent rav and Torah personality, is a daily radio commentator who has authored over a dozen books, and a renowned speaker recognized for his exceptional ability to captivate and inspire audiences worldwide.