Be the Change You Want to See

At the end of Genesis, chapter 46, the Torah lists the entire household of Jacob. “These are the names of those who came to Egypt.” Often, I picture this scene as a large boisterous immigrant clan clearing customs in their new country, while a flustered, brightly turbaned official, about to go on break, curses his fate as he attempts to match each exotic name to its corresponding passport. “Yachtzael ben Naphtali, am I pronouncing that right? Can you remove your glasses, please?”

These Biblical immigrants came to their new country filled with hopes for a better life, an escape from the haunting guilt of being unable to feed their families. The hunger pangs of starving children are easily the most heartbreaking sound in the world. As 2021 comes to an end amid rising fear of the newest COVID strain, it’s easier to forget that there will be no home COVID tests delivered to those still living in the streets, in tents on Mass Avenue. The deadline for their removal is January 12, but where will they go?

Though Jacob and his family had to leave their beloved homeland of Eretz Yisroel behind in order to survive the famine, they never lost hopes of returning one day. Imagine the relief in having somewhere to escape to, a place where immediately upon settling in, one can safely begin dreaming of returning home again.

But one needs a home to do so.

No one dreams of one day returning to live in a cardboard refrigerator box. On his deathbed, Jacob made his children swear that they wouldn’t bury him in Egypt. The dream of the ingathering of the exiles and the return to Zion has sustained us for thousands of years and filled us with hope in our darkest hour.

As I prepare for the warmth and peace of Shabbat in the comfort and warmth of home, I am filled with sadness for all those in the Mass and Casses of the world, freezing in the cold dark December night. I am humbled by my good fortune and mindful of the need to be grateful for all that is so easily taken for granted.

Here is an opportunity to point out that it was only because of the strategic genius of Joseph's social action vision that the Egyptians survived while their neighbors in the region starved. Joseph, like his father, demanded from his brethren that his remains not be left in Egypt. Today I imagine the spirit of Joseph calling out to us to fulfill that commitment yet again.

“What right do we have to remain dead and buried while others are dying?”

It's time that we in the Jewish community once again raise the remains of Yosef Hatzadik (Joseph) from the depths of the Nile and channel his vision and deploy his wisdom in the fight against food shortage. While we might not be able to solve the wider crisis, we can and must find ways to make a difference in the ways that we can.

Let’s talk. You know where to find me.