The Winding Road

This week’s Parsha has the distinction of being closely tied to the Yom Tov of Chanukah—in most years it is read on Shabbos Chanukah itself. As we know, there are no quirks in our calendar; any Parsha which is generally Leined in proximity to a Yom Tov or other yearly milestone must be in some way related to that time of year. It is incumbent on us to understand how this true, and what can be learned from this connection that can be applied to our own lives.

The Parsha itself centers on Yosef’s rise to power in Mitzrayim, and the subsequent encounters with his brother’s that take place when they come to secure food for their family in Eretz Yisroel. Following their first confrontation, Yosef instructs his brothers to bring Binyomin back to Mitzrayim with them so that he can see his younger brother, and holds Shimon hostage to ensure that they will return. When the Shevatim return to Yaakov with this piece of news, he is rightfully dismayed, exclaiming: “Yosef Ainenu, V’Shimon Ainenu, V’Es Benyaim Tikachu: Yosef is no longer with us, Shimon is not with us, and now you propose to take Binyamin?” Despite their best efforts, Reuven and his brothers are unable to convince Yaakov to go along with their plan.

The Pessukim seem to indicate that an amount of time passes, and the effects of the famine grow more acute, prompting Yaakov to once again ask his sons to journey to Mitzrayim to procure some food. They remind him that without Binyamin they will be unable to meet with Yosef and therefore unable to secure the necessary provisions. Faced with this dilemma, Yaakov once again refuses to allow Binyamin to join the trip.

At this point Yehudah steps forward and takes ultimate responsibility for the wellbeing of Binyamin: “Anochi Aervenu, Miyadi Tivakshenu.” He assures his father that not only will Binyamin return safely to Eretz Yisroel, but that this will allow them all to live owing to the food they will be able to purchase

After Yehudah’s promise, a change occurs. Yaakov is not only convinced to send Binyamin with his brothers, but he offers advice as well. The brothers are told to take a present with them: some food items that represent the Zimras HaEretz as well as additional money. Yaakov also offers them a Bracha for success, ending with a resignation of sorts: “V’Ani, Ka’Asher Shacholti, Shachalti: If I am to be bereaved, I will be bereaved.”

But Chazal tell us that his advice of bringing Yosef a gift, as well as his Bracha, mirror the preparations that Yaakov made for his meeting with Esav: Doron and Tefillah. At this point Yaakov was not allowing Binyamin to travel against his better judgment, but rather became a true proponent of the plan, going to far as to offer his own strategic advice.

What was is that changed in Yaakov at that moment? Why does he seemingly reverse course—from staunch opposition to not only resignation, but full support?

Although we may assume that Yaakov was won over by Yehudah’s declaration of “Anochi Aervenu”, Meforshim tell us that Yehudah did not have a plan—he had no way of knowing that he would be able to bring Binyamin back alive. In fact that was the very Gadlus of this statement: Yehudah was willing to take responsibility despite the fact that he had no clear path to success.

Yaakov could therefore not have been fully convinced that Binyamin would return safely, as Yehudah himself had no way to guarantee that outcome. This reality is indicated by the final words that Yaakov says to his sons: “V’Ani, Ka’Asher Shacholti, Shachalti.” Yaakov realized that there was still a possibility that he would once again experience the grief of losing a child, despite Yehudah’s best assurances.

If this was the case, how can we understand Yaakov’s apparent change of heart? Why did he switch from a position of “Yosef Ainenu, V’Shimon Ainenu” to one of “V’es Achichem Kechu”?

When Yaakov does change his mind, and begins to offer his sons advice on their mission, he says “Im Ken Eifo Zos Assu.” The word Eifo in this case, as Rashi points out, is extra: Yaakov could have said “Im Ken Zos Assu” Rashi offers one explanation for the word, but there is another Pshat, brought in the he Medrash Rabbah here, that may help us understand Yaakov’s mindset at this point.

After Yitzchok gave the Brachos to Yaakov Avinu, the Torah tells us that Esav entered the room and told his father that sit up so that he may eat and give him the Brachos. Yitzchok, having already given the Brachos to Yaakov, whom he thought was Esav, is confused and asks Esav “Mi Atah?”. After Esav identifies himself, the Passuk says “VaYecherad Yitachok Charada Gedolah Ad Meod”, Yitzchok was gripped by an intense fear, and he asked: “Mi Aifo Hu HaTzad Tzayid: Who then was it that hunted food for me [earlier]?” In referring to the food brought to him by Yaakov, Yitzchok used the word Aifo. It was this use of the word that Yaakov was referring to when he said “Im Ken Eifo Zos Assu.”

The Medrash explains that to felt a sense of dread, an intense fear, when he was faced with the choice of sending Binyamin to Mitzrayim. At this point, however, he connected this fear to that of his father. He said “Perhaps this fear is similar to the one that my father experienced at that time.” At the moment of that revelation Yaakov seems to change his mind, and is convinced to allow Binyomin to travel.

It seems from the Medrash that only when Yaakov Avinu associated his fear with that of his father was he able to finally come to terms with the need to send Binyamin to Mitzrayim. What was it, however, that caused Yaakov to make this connection? Presumably the fear that Yaakov experienced was not new at that moment; what caused him to relate it to the fear of his father now? In addition, we must understand why this connection made that difference. What relevance did the fear that Yitzchok experienced at the time that Esav asked for his Brachos have to the emotions Yaakov was feeling that this time?

It would seem, however, that in some way Yehudah’s words were the tipping point. It was only after Yehudah spoke that Yaakov seems to have this revelation. As noted above, the promise of “Anochi Aervenu”, courageous as it was on Yehudah’s part, could not have been what finally convinced Yaakov. Rather it would appear that his next and final words were those that affected Yaakov the most: “Ki Lulei Hismamanu Ki Attah Shavnu Zeh Pa’amayim: For had we not lingered we could already have returned twice.” Yeudah seems almost to be admonishing his father, remarking that had they not dillydallied, had they not wasted time debating the fate of Binyamin, they could have already returned from their trip. Why were these words so impactful? Why was this the statement that affected Yaakov to the point that he connected his fear with his father’s, bringing him to change his mind?

R’ Hirsch explains that the word Lulei comes from the word Lul, which is used to describe a winding staircase. Yehudah at this point was referring to an alternate reality—if we had accepted the risks of sending Binyamin at the outset, this entire chapter of our lives could have been complete. When one climbs a winding staircase he sees the bottom but not the top—he cannot be certain where the journey will lead him. By using the word Lulei, Yehudah was asking his father to consider the unknown, to think about what could have been.

It was this words that spurred a change in Yaakov’s heart, it was this plea on the part of Yehudah that caused Yaakov to connect his emotions with those of his own father.

Chazal tell us that when Esav entered the room and asked for his Brachos, Yitzchok turned to him and he saw the Pesach of Gehenom open below him and the fear that he felt at this moment, the Charada Gedolah Ad Meod, was even more intense than the fear that he felt during the Akeidah.

R’ Chaim Shmulevitz explains that when Yitzchok saw the Pesach Shel Gehenom he realized that his entire impression of Esav was mistaken. Because of Esav’s manipulations, Yitzchok thought that his oldest son was a Tzaddik and therefore worthy of the Brachos. It was at this moment that he realized the depths of Esav’s depravity, the extent of his Rishus. Yitzchok experienced such an intense fear at that time because it was at that moment that his world came crashing down, so to speak.

Perhaps this is what Yaakov was reminded of when Yehudah said the word “Lulei”: that there is more than meets the eye. Up to that point, Yaakov had been hesitant to send Binyamin to Mitzrayim because of the potential for disaster. When Yehudah spoke about taking the unknown path, however, Yaakov was reminded of his own father who, in one split second, realized that a major portion of his life was an illusion. Yaakov’s reaction to the prospect of allowing Binyamin to travel was based on his view of the situation, but he was quickly reminded that our view is not always correct—sometimes the staircase winds and the path that we assume it will take is not at all accurate.

Yehudah’s words may or may not have been intended to elicit this reaction, but Yaakov nonetheless took heed. He strengthened his own awareness of the fact that in the end we are not in control of our own destinies—that sometimes we must take an unknown path, secure in the knowledge that Hashem controls all, and that we are climbing an winding set of stairs. It was at this point that Yaakov, reminded of his father’s experiences, resolved to send Binyamin though the outcome of this decision was unknown.

This message, one of Emunah in the face of the unknown is closely connected to one of the central aspects of Chanukah.

The Gemarah in Meseches Taanis teaches us that one is not allowed to have any benefit from the Ma’aseh Nissim, the results of a Nes, for they are Assur B’Hanaah. Based on this Gemarah, R’ Shlomo Klugger asks a penetrating question: we know that anything which was Assur B’Hanaah was not allowed to be used on the Mizbeach or any other Avodah in the Mikdash, including the Menorah. If this is the case, how could the oil of the Nes Chanukah have been used in the Menorah? As this oil was Ma’aseh Nissim it should have had a Din of Issurei Hanaah and therefore unfit for use in the Mikdash. Many Achronim offer answers to this question, but we will focus on just one.

There is another Gemarah in Taanis that tells the story of R’ Chanina ben Dosa’s daughter who accidently lit Shabbos candles with vinegar rather than oil, and was worried that she would have no light for Shabbos. Her father said to her: “Mi SheAmar L’Shemen V’Yadlik, Hu Ye’Omar L’Chometz V’Yadlik: He who told the oil to burn can tell the vinegar to burn.” The Ben Yehoyada notes that the vinegar must have at least lit, which would already have been a Nes, so why was the young lady despondent, surely she must have realized that there would in fact be light?

The Shefa Chaim therefore explains that R’ Chanina ben Dosa’s daughter realized that the vinegar, which was indeed burning as if it was oil, was now considered Ma’aseh Nissim and should therefore be Assur B’Hanaah. As such, she was upset that she could not have any benefit from that light, and would not be allowed to stay in the area for which they were providing light during Shabbos. Her father responded: “Mi SheAmar L’Shemen V’Yadlik, Hu Ye’Omar L’Chometz V’Yadlik: the fact that oil burns to begin with is just as much of a Nes as if vinegar were to burn. We expect oil to provide light as a matter of nature, but one who truly understands the world knows that there is Teva, only Nissim. R’ Chanina ben Dosa was reassuring his daughter, explaining that if the concept of Ma’aseh Nissim applied to the vinager it would apply to oil as well, as both are only through Nissim.

This is why the Neros in the Bais Hamikdash were allowed to be lit from the oil of the Nes Chanukah: oil burning on a regular day is just as much of a Nes as when it burns eight times as long as it should—as the Ramban famously writes in Parshas Bo: “Ain Bahem Teva…Shekulam Nissim”.

When we light the Menorah, we are reminded of this truth. We remember that there was a Nes Chanukah, that there was a time when the dictum of “Mi SheAmar L’Shemen V’Yadlik” was itself an open Nes. This helps us remember that when oil lights under regular circumstances, that too is only through the Yad Hashem, and not any hint of nature. In this way the Neros Chanukah signify the fact that there is always more than meets the eye: just as there are Nissim behind every seemingly natural occurrence, our days are filled with Nissim and Hasgacha that we cannot even fathom.

Yaakov was reminded, by the words of Yehudah, that we cannot always discern the trajectory of our actions—sometimes what we think to be the absolute truth is far from it. He was convinced that sending Binyamin on the journey to Mitzrayim could lead only to disaster, but he recalled the Aifo of his father, the moment in which all that he held true was shown to be utterly false. This gave Yaakov the strength to look beyond his own assumptions and to rely only on the Ratzon Hashem.

As we light the Menorah we must also keep in mind that what appears to us as fact—that oil is a failsafe fuel—is only due to the Hashgachas Hashem. Chanukah is a time to strengthen our own Emunah, and work on our willingness to take the path dictated by the Torah and our Gedolim regardless of our understanding of where the staircase leads. In this way our dark lives can be brightly illuminated by our own trust in the Mi SheAmar L’Shemen V’Yadlik.