Parshas Vayechi 5785
Approximately 125 miles beneath the earth’s surface, something astounding takes place. That depth provides an extreme environment—1600°C and pressure about 50,000 times of that found at sea level. When volcanic eruption force the material created there to an area far closer to the surface, we are able to harvest that material, also known as diamonds.
Though diamonds are among the strongest materials on earth, it would be wrong to say that that tough composition allowed them to survive under the most extreme conditions our planet has to offer. It is only by being led through a process of such intense pressure and heat that carbon atoms can fuse in a way that produces such a spectacular result. Those conditions were not merely something they had to endure, but the very crucible in which they were forged.
As Yaakov Avinu stood in Pharaoh’s throne room in last week’s parsha, the Torah records an unusual interaction between the two. Pharaoh asks Yaakov, “כַּמָּה יְמֵי שְׁנֵי חַיֶּיךָ
—How many years have you lived?” An odd inquiry, but not nearly as perplexing as Yaakov’s response.
Yaakov tells Pharaoh, “יְמֵי שְׁנֵי מְגוּרַי שְׁלֹשִׁים וּמְאַת שָׁנָה מְעַט וְרָעִים הָיוּ יְמֵי שְׁנֵי חַיַּי וְלֹא הִשִּׂיגוּאֶת־יְמֵי שְׁנֵי חַיֵּי אֲבֹתַי בִּימֵי מְגוּרֵיהֶם—The years of my life are 130. Few and poor have been the years of my life, and I have not achieved the length that my fathers have lived.” One would have expected a more optimistic view coming from Yaakov, perhaps a response highlighting the silver lining despite of all the trouble Yaakov had been subjected to.
The Midrash notes that Hashem considered Yaakov’s response to indeed be disappointing. So much so, that he was punished with an intriguing formula. For every word the Torah used to convey Yaakov’s response to Pharaoh, Yaakov would fall one year short of achieving the number of years his father had lived. The Torah uses 33 words to describe the interaction between Yaakov and Pharaoh, hence, Yaakov lives for only 147 years, 33 years shy of Yitzchak’s 180 years.
Rav Chaim Shmulevitz makes an observation obvious to anyone willing to perform a simple audit of the Midrash. Yaakov’s response to Pharaoh is not 33 words long. That number is only arrived at when including the previous pasuk, the one detailing Pharaoh’s initial question, asking Yaakov Avinu how old he was.
Rav Shmulevitz offers a fascinating reconciliation, suggesting that Yaakov was held accountable not only for his response, in characterizing his life as being short and harsh, but even for Pharaoh’s very question. What prompted Pharaoh to inquire as to Yaakov’s age was his appearance. He looked old, like the weight of the world had taken an enormous toll on him. And this is a responsibility that Yaakov had to bear.
Had he perceived of his entire life—both the good and the bad—as being guided and directed by Hashem’s hand, his outward appearance would have been more youthful and vibrant. Every crease of Yaakov’s face bespoke the pain he’d lived through. But with the acute awareness that Hashem was the ultimate author of that pain, there would have been far more bounce in his step, and less age worn on his face. Yaakov is held accountable not only for his negative assessment of his own life, but for the manner in which that perspective changed his very appearance.
Turning to Parshas Vayechi, Rav Matisyahu Solomon notes something interesting about Yaakov’s blessing to his grandchildren, Ephraim and Menashe. In invoking Hashem’s name, Yaakov refers to Him as “הָרֹעֶה אֹתִי מֵעוֹדִי עַד־הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה—He Who shepherded me from my birth until this very day.” Sefer Bereishis is replete with references to shepherding, yet this is the first recorded instance of someone using that parable in reference to his own relationship with Hashem.
Rav Matisyahu suggests that Yaakov, at the end of his life, and reflecting over how it was lived, is actually performing teshuva for the manner in which he’d responded to Pharaoh years earlier, and the underlying perspective of his own life that that response suggested. It is no coincidence that Yaakov spoke of his days as “Ra—poor” and now sees Hashem as “Ro’eh—his shepherd,” using a word etymologically related to the one he’d first used. Yaakov is pivoting from seeing things as “Ra,” as negative, painful, tragic even, to “Ro’eh,” that nothing is coincidental and it was the Divine hand that brought these events bear and shepherded Yaakov throughout the twists and turns of his life.
Yes, life had been painful. But it had also been meaningful and valuable. And even in those moments of abject pain were opportunities for growth in character and faith that a softer, cushier life simply could not have produced. Were those moments “Ra” or were they the design of the “Ro’eh”, the One shepherding Yaakov throughout his life, giving him the life that would be the most impactful, if not always the most comfortable?
Considering its origin story, it’s somewhat striking that a diamond is the gift of choice when a woman agrees to marry the man presenting it. What, exactly, is the message here? That life will be full of immense pressure, that their relationship will demand that they survive intense heat, that extreme conditions are what lay in store for them?
Unlikely that that’s the intention. But maybe it should be. A meaningful life is no cakewalk. There certainly will be pressure and the couple will have to see if they can stand the heat. But they’d be wise to remind themselves—every time they look down at her ring finger—that the pressures and the heat are not arbitrary “Ra”. They are not difficulties to suffer or annoyances to tolerate that have no purpose. Rather, there’s a “Ro’eh”, Someone shepherding them through the process, providing them with precisely the right conditions to make their lives sparkle and shine.
Diamonds need not be conscious of what they go through in order for the finished product to be beautiful. But people do. The pressure, the stress, the harsh conditions will all be provided in some measure or another. Those who see “Ro’eh” rather than “Ra” will see those conditions as hand-selected to give them the opportunities they need to grow and develop. Those who don’t will endure the same difficulties, but will shine no more than an lump of coal.