Timeless Torah

Wagons! We’re not talking cowboys, Indians and Wild West wagons. Our tale is about Jacob, Joseph and ancient Egyptian wagons. In fact, at first I was completely baffled that the Torah would even bother mentioning a particular mode of transportation at all. But I can see that I am getting ahead of myself, so let me start at the beginning.

After more than two decades of separation, Tzafnas Paneach, the Viceroy of Egypt reveals himself as the long, lost brother Joseph. The other eleven forerunners of the Tribes of Israel return home and tell their aged father, “Joseph is still alive and he is ruler over all of Egypt.”

One would have imagined that like a man drowning, Jacob would clutch at any straw of hope. Instead, what does the Torah tell us actually occurred, “Jacob’s heart stood still for he could not believe them.” Could it be that after pining for so long, Jacob dared not dream that consolation was at hand?

No. What the Patriarch could not accept, even more, what he could not imagine was a young Jewish boy surrounded by Egyptian cultural influences surviving with his religious spirit intact. And if that wasn’t enough, to be told that Tzafnas Paneach had attained rank, success, fame, fortune and power and nonetheless remained at heart no more than Joseph! Well, who could blame poor, old Dad for being skeptical?

The narrative therefore pointedly records that when Jacob, “Saw the wagons that Joseph had sent … the spirit of their father Jacob was revived.” The Midrash wonders what was so special about these wagons that they had such a profound effect on Joseph’s father. Were they the latest design in wagon fashion? Did they feature extra horsepower? Tilt seats? Perhaps it was the personalized license plate that read, JEWISH PRIDE?

Actually it was the Hebrew word wagon that carried the most meaningful message back to Dad. It seems that twenty two years earlier the last subject that Jacob had taught Joseph was a law titled Eglah Erufah. The word Eglah is etymologically connected to the Hebrew word for wagon, Agalah. Indeed, remove the Hebrew vowels and the two words appear exactly alike.

Now the reason for Jacob’s reaction becomes clear. It wasn’t the wagon per se that excited the Patriarch; it was the fact that Joseph still retained his lessons and his Jewish identity. Now that might be the end of this Timeless Torah, but here we come to the part that baffled me. Not eight verses earlier the Torah states that King Pharaoh said to his Viceroy, “Say to your brothers, ‘Do this. Take wagons from the land of Egypt for your little ones and for your wives…Do not be concerned with your belongings, for the best of Egypt is yours.” From this passage it is obvious that it was Pharaoh who sent the wagons and not Joseph. Was the king of Egypt also a former pupil? Most assuredly not! The explanation goes like this:

Jewish history reads like a travelogue. From Israel we were exiled to Babylon. From there we went to Persia, to Spain, to the Arabian Peninsula, to Europe and to the Americas. At first, each country welcomed us with open arms. When we packed, we took along our religious artifacts; our two sets of dishes, the tallis and tefillin, the Shabbos candles, the holy books, all in order to recreate the Jewish community in our new society.

“Don’t bother,” respond the Pharaohs of all time. “You won’t need your two sets of dishes, we offer McDonald’s. You can leave your tallis behind; we’ll outfit you with a sports blazer. In fact, we’re only sending enough wagons for, “Your little ones and for your wives…Do not be concerned with your belongings, for the best of Egypt is yours.”

Understanding full well what Pharaoh intended, Joseph sent other wagons: Wagons to carry libraries of Jewish books for the Yeshiva they would have to open in Goshen, wagons for the Sefer Torahs, wagons for the Pesach silverware…..and on and on. The Wild West was won by the brave men and women who rode the wagons across the prairie. Similarly, the forces of assimilation were conquered by the wagons laden with Yiddishkeit.