My Father, My Teacher
My parents, Rabbi Sholom B. Gordon and Rebbetzin Miriam Gordon, of blessed memory, were sent to Newark, N.J., by the Sixth Rebbe in 1948. My father initially spent three years there starting in 1942, while still single. After my parents’ marriage, they were assigned to a new position in Springfield, Mass., and later reassigned to Newark, where I was born and raised.
My father drove me to a Jewish day school in a nearby city every day, hoping I would receive a solid Jewish education. In the early days of first grade, I returned home one day, and my father inquired, “So, are you learning Chumash? Are you learning Torah?” At six years old, I candidly replied, “I’m sorry, but we don’t learn Chumash in our school.”
Confused, my father asked, “You don’t learn Chumash? What, then, are you learning?”
We have a reader,” I explained, “and we learn stories about Yossi Pessi!”
Perplexed, my father asked, “Who’s Yossi Pessi?”
“These are made-up stories about a kid named Yossi,” I elaborated. “Yossi is a ‘pessi,’ which is Hebrew for idiot. The stories we read are about all of the silly and foolish things Yossi does and all the trouble he gets himself into.”
My father was incredulous. “For this I drive all those miles each day?” he exclaimed. “For this I pay tuition? So you can read and learn about Yossi Pessi?! I’m not happy about this.”
Subsequently, he scheduled a meeting with the head of school and expressed his concerns about the curriculum. “My dear rabbi,” said my father, “with great self-sacrifice, I drive a long distance and I pay my fair share of tuition to send my son to your school, so that my child can study Torah. Yet, instead of learning Chumash, my child is learning about Yossi Pessi – Yossi the Idiot – some fictional character who is always getting into trouble. That’s the workbook. That’s what the school is teaching my son. Why would the school do that, dear rabbi?”
The head of school looked at my father, shook his head back and forth, and said, “Ah, today everybody is an educator. Everybody thinks they know about education.” He was basically telling my father that if he had wanted advice on how to run his school, he would have asked for it.
My father thanked the rabbi very much, drove home, and immediately started a cheder in Newark. He made a few phone calls, knocked on some doors, took a few kids out of public school, and just like that he started a new school, where I spent many years with my father as my teacher.
I can honestly say that had my father not done so, and had I not merited to become my father’s student for all those years, not only would I lack the knowledge I accumulated, but I would also be without the passion that I have for the teachings of Chassidus and Torah. This personal experience vividly illustrates the importance of establishing Torah infrastructure anywhere and everywhere that Jews find themselves.
A Yeshivah in Egypt
The Torah portion of Vayechi begins: “And Jacob lived in the land of Egypt for seventeen years …”1 The phrase “And Jacob lived” in Hebrew is “Vayechi Yaakov,” which is where the title of this parshah is derived. Rabbi Jacob Ben Asher, the late 13th- and early 14th-century biblical commentator known as the Ba’al Haturim, taught that the numeric value of the word Vayechi is 34, which signifies two 17-year periods in Jacob’s life.
The first period encapsulates the years Joseph lived with his father Jacob, from birth until his brothers sold him into slavery. The second 17 years represent the time Jacob spent with Joseph in Egypt—“the best years of his life.” During this period, Jacob could finally relax, engage in Torah study with his grandchildren, and enjoy some much-deserved nachat from his family.
Best Years ... in Egypt?
When the Third Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel, was taught the first verse of our parshah as a child in cheder, his teacher translated it according to the commentary of the Ba’al Haturim, that Jacob lived his 17 best years in Egypt.
Upon returning home from cheder, young Menachem Mendel posed a question to his esteemed grandfather, the Alter Rebbe, founder of Chabad. “How is it possible that the best years in the life of Jacob, the most eminent of the Patriarchs, were the years he lived in Egypt, a land of immorality and corruption?”2
The Alter Rebbe explained: “It is written that Jacob ‘sent Judah before him to Joseph, to show him the way to Goshen.’3 The Midrash relates that ‘Judah’s task was to prepare a House of Study for him, so that the Torah would be studied there, and his sons would meditate upon its teachings.’ ”
We are taught that even before the giving of the Torah, the Patriarchs and the tribes—especially the tribe of Levi—devoted themselves to Torah study. Thus, the phrase “to show him the way to Goshen,” meant establishing the infrastructure for Torah study, which enables us to become closer to G‑d and to truly live. This concept is embodied in the phrase Vayechi Yaakov—“And Jacob lived.”
Goshen’s Legacy
This teaching of “to show him the way to Goshen,” emphasizing the crucial need to establish Jewish infrastructure even in Egypt (i.e., exile), laid the spiritual foundation for a significant development in the 1920s and ‘30s. During this period, the Sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok Schneersohn, began sending his personal emissaries, known as “Shluchim,” to various cities in and around the Soviet Union, including Russia, Poland, Latvia, Georgia, and others. Their mission was to create Jewish infrastructure, often operating underground and at great personal sacrifice, in order to keep the flame of Judaism alive under the Soviets.
Upon his arrival in the United States in 1940, the Sixth Rebbe continued his work, immediately sending emissaries to various American cities in order to establish Jewish infrastructure and combat the assimilation.
When the Rebbe succeeded his father-in-law in 1950, he expanded this effort, sending emissaries all over the world. In 1972, on the occasion of his 70th birthday, the Rebbe announced a birthday wish for 71 new Chabad institutions before his 71st birthday. Despite the seeming impossibility (there were probably only 100 or so Chabad institutions worldwide), the Rebbe received his gift, and 71 new institutions, including Chabad of the Valley—my life’s work—were established.
It is astounding to observe that after the Rebbe’s passing in 1994, Chabad’s global outreach efforts grew exponentially. One need only do a quick internet search and see that in many places I cannot even pronounce there are shluchim of the Rebbe hard at work creating and growing Jewish infrastructure.
All of this stems from the profound lesson of “to show him the way to Goshen.”
Dreidel Connection
Interestingly, the Hebrew word for “to Goshen,” Goshnah, is spelled with the same four Hebrew letters—Gimmel, Shin, Nun, and Hei—that are found on the Chanukah dreidel. This teaches us that even in Goshen, even in exile, miracles can occur when there is devotion and dedication to building infrastructure for Torah study.
Taking it a step further, our Sages teach that Goshnah—and the letters on the dreidel—have the numerical value of 358, the same as Moshiach, indicating that establishing the infrastructure for Torah study and Judaism is what will ultimately bring about the Final Redemption.4
And it is our duty and privilege as students of the Rebbe to wholeheartedly embrace these teachings and dedicate ourselves to building Judaism. We must establish Chabad houses, we must set up Jewish schools, we must build mikvahs. Wherever there are Jews, there must be Jewish infrastructure.
Judah, Uniquely Qualified
Joseph, being the foremost disciple of his father, Jacob, received all of Jacob’s wisdom. Remarkably, even when appointed viceroy of Egypt, Joseph upheld his high standards of Jewish practice, maintained his fear of G‑d, and meticulously observed the laws of Torah and mitzvot. (These laws were prophetically observed by the patriarchs and their families even before the formal giving of the Torah.)
Given this, why did Jacob choose to send Judah to establish an infrastructure? Why not assign this task to Joseph, who was not only his chief disciple but also the ruler of the land? Joseph was highly capable, and Judah was just a simple guy, a foreigner, an immigrant. Why entrust Judah with the immense responsibility of creating a Torah infrastructure?
The answer may lie in the fact that Judah was the forebear of kings David and Solomon, whose descendants led the Sanhedrin. The Tribe of Judah was wholly dedicated to Torah. Although Joseph was also committed to Torah, his involvement in governmental affairs and secular matters set him apart.5
Indeed, Joseph maintained his elevated spirituality even in Egypt because he was on a higher level than his brothers. However, creating an infrastructure for Torah study requires exclusive devotion to Torah, a quality embodied by Judah.
Be Strong!
The parshah of Vayechi marks the conclusion of the book of Bereishit, the first of the Five Books of the Torah. Upon completing each of the Five Books, it is customary to wish each other, “chazak, chazak, venitchazek – be strong, be strong, and may we be strengthened.”
May we all be blessed with the strength needed to establish the vital Jewish infrastructure required for nurturing the next generation of Jews.
May we truly merit to see what Jacob yearned to reveal to his sons – that which is hinted in the word Goshnah – the coming of our righteous Moshiach, may it happen speedily in our days! Amen.
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