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    THE CROWN

    Pashas Vayechi. The closing of Sefer
    Bereishis. The end of an era.
    “Vayikrivu yemei Yisroel lamus, When the
    end of Yisroel’s (Yaakov) life approached,
    Vayikra l’vno, l’Yosef, he called upon his son,
    Yosef. (Bereishis 47:29). Ramban comments
    that although Yaakov was not ill at this point,
    he felt weak and experienced a loss of
    strength. He realized that it was time to make
    end-of-life decisions.
    Yaakov doesn’t call a lawyer or a financial
    planner, but calls upon Yosef. Yosef, who held
    a position of power of Egypt and had the
    ability to fulfill Yaakov’s wishes.
    Yaakov asked for a “chesed ve’emes, kindness
    and truth.” He doesn’t want to be buried in
    Egypt, but in Eretz Yisroel, the Holy Land,
    alongside his fathers, Avrohom and Yitzchok.
    Chesed shel emes, kindness of truth. The
    ultimate kindness, for it is a kindness that one
    does not anticipate receiving any reward from
    the beneficiary.
    Even though Yosef accepts the responsibility,
    Yaakov asks him to “swear to me”.

    Does Yaakov not trust Yosef? The Talmud
    teaches, “Eizehu chacham, haroeh es hanolad,
    Who is a wise man, one who contemplates the
    future.” As a father, Yaakov trusted Yosef
    unequivocally, but was afraid of Pharaoh
    giving Yosef a hard time leaving the country
    to bury his father. If so, Yosef would be able to
    tell Pharaoh, I promised my father, I took a
    vow. Even Pharaoh would not deny Yosef
    fulfilling his father’s last request.
    “Please don’t bury me in Egypt.” Not just a
    wish to be buried in Eretz Yisroel, in Meoras
    Hamachpela, but a strong wish not to be
    buried in Egypt.
    Rashi gives us reasons for Yaakov’s request.
    One is, that knowing that Egyptians worship
    the dead, Yaakov feared the Egyptians would
    worship him – being that blessing came upon
    Egypt when he arrived.
    When asking Yosef to bury him in Chevron,
    the name Yisroel is used in place of Yaakov.
    Yisroel, from the word sar, a prince, a leader,
    a position of authority. A name that symbolizes
    our nation, Bnei Yisroel. Yaakov’s request to
    Yosef was a message not only to his family in
    Egypt, but a message to all future generations.
    Yaakov is telling his descendants, don’t be
    mistaken, Egypt is not your land, not your

    country. While you may now be living
    comfortably in Goshen, or anywhere in
    exile, with all your needs being taken
    care of, never forget who you are and
    where you come from. Never forget
    that your true homeland is Eretz
    Yisroel.
    The war in Eretz Yisroel that began on
    October 7 is hard and painful for every
    person living there. Israel is a small
    country, where everyone is affected. A
    country where everyone is a brother.
    The unending tension and constant
    barrage of rockets cannot be minimized.
    However, the repercussions of October 7 have
    spread world-wide. It’s spawned an explosion
    of blatant anti-Semitism. We are witness to
    acts of hate, even violence, directed towards
    our people. Hate meant to intimidate.
    From out-of-control demonstrations, to bomb
    threats against yeshivas and shuls, to swastikas
    painted on Jewish-owned businesses, the
    Israeli flag being burned, and sadly to people
    who are visibly Jewish being attacked. We
    have seen it all.
    Commentary magazine featured an article
    entitled They forgot to be Afraid, in which
    James B. Miegs writes of Israel becoming too

    comfortable with their surroundings pre-
    October 7. They forgot to be afraid. Living

    in a land surrounded by enemies, one must

    always be on high alert, with eyes laser-
    focused 24/7 on the borders.

    They forgot to be afraid. Maybe we too,
    forgot to be afraid. It’s not just “they”, but
    “we”. We have become very much part of
    the culture and society around us. We are
    comfortable with our homes, our jobs, our
    lives. We are living in our own “Goshen”, a
    life of both material and spiritual comfort.
    But it is not our home.
    My mother’s words echo in my mind.
    “Chaya Sarale… I am so afraid it will
    happen again.” I didn’t think I would see
    anti-Semitism in a country that welcomes
    its immigrants with the Statue of Liberty, a
    country that hosts the Liberty Bell. A
    country whose founding fathers guaranteed
    liberty and justice for all.
    But then I see the calls of hate, the
    downplaying, ignoring, even denying (like
    the Holocaust deniers before them) the
    atrocities of October 7. We too forgot to be
    afraid. Our father Yaakov’s request is a
    message to all of us. We are in galus. As
    good as things may seem, be mindful, be
    cognizant, and remember that this is not our
    true home.
    Yaakov asked Yosef to “carry me out of
    Egypt”. Me – my entire body, not to wait
    until the body decomposes and becomes
    bones.
    There is a deeper understanding. A message
    for generations. “Carry me”. Carry my

    teachings, my life lessons with you. As a
    nation you will experience many exiles, but
    remember my teachings. Remember Eretz
    Yisroel.
    The parsha closes with yet another loss. The
    death of Yosef HaTzadik. Like his father
    before him, he too requests to be buried in
    Eretz Yisroel – but with one big difference.
    “You shall carry my bones from here.”
    Yosef was very much aware that hard days
    were on the horizon. Days fraught with pain,
    suffering, and loss of freedom. Days that will
    not allow Bnei Yisroel to leave Egypt. Unlike
    Yaakov who said “carry me out”, Yosef said
    “carry my bones” (Bereishis 51:25).
    Yosef’s body was placed in a lead casket and
    sunk into the Nile. Yosef, who brought
    blessing to Egypt during the years of famine
    was lowered into the Nile, with the Egyptians
    hoping that he would bring blessing to the
    Nile, the source of water and vegetation for all
    of Egypt.
    Years later, it was Moshe who searched the
    Nile for Yosef’s casket before the Exodus.
    And it was Moshe who carried the bones for
    forty years in the desert, transporting them
    from resting stop to resting stop. Yosef’s
    bones found their final resting spot in the city
    of Shechem (Nablus). How tragically sad that
    the final resting place of this great Tzadik was
    vandalized, burnt, violated time and time
    again by Palestinians. It became a hotspot of
    Arab terror. Even more chilling is that on
    October 7, 2000, — yes, the same day, October
    7 – a mob of Palestinian rioters, armed with
    sledgehammers, smashed the kever, setting it
    ablaze, destroying seforim and other holy
    articles.
    Today, the terror continues. We are faced with
    an enemy that vows to come back again and
    again.
    Yosef took off his crown, and placed it on the
    coffin of Yaakov. An honor to his father, as if
    saying – you, my dear father, are a true king.
    You represent the kesser Torah, the crown of
    Torah.
    Parshas Vayechi tells us of the death of
    Yaakov. Yet, the word Vayechi denotes life. As
    the Talmud states, Yaakov lo meis, Yaakov
    didn’t die. His name lives on. His teachings
    live on. He is part of us.