By Rabbi Eliyahu Heller
The commentators explain that this Parsha is stumah, closed. This is because through Yaakov’s death the eyes and hearts of the Jews were closed shut because of the pain of enslavement. As long as Yaakov was alive, the light of his wisdom and clarity could not be diffused. Yaakov was, by his very essence, the guardian and protector of his family’s purity and holiness.
It was only when Yaakov passed on that his children fell into the luring trap of Egyptian bondage. It almost seemed as if Yaakov’s death marked the end of his legacy, the end of a family that was holy and exalted from the rest. The Jews plummeted spiritually and were beaten physically.
Yet it was precisely the pain and suffering of Mitzrayim that purified the Jews to be molded into the chosen nation, worthy of coming face to face with Hashem and receive His Torah.
It was the physical, emotional and spiritual growing pains of Mitzrayim that had the most profound impact on the shaping of our unique identity.
The message is clear; sometimes it is when we lose our safety net, when we are placed in difficult and unbearable situations that we are given the opportunity to shape our destiny and cement our forebears legacy.
True and lasting growth is scary, painful, and often messy work that we are usually confronted with when we are alone and vulnerable.
In the words of the Midrash, “When are the words of Torah implanted in a person? When his Rebbe is gathered from the world. For as long as his Rebbe is alive he says- whenever I need, My Rebbe is here in front of me and I will ask him. (It is only) When his Rebbe dies he toils day and night to maintain his Torah knowledge, for he knows that he has no one to ask.”
While one must always strive to have a Rebbe and seek out his guidance, it is likely that we will be confronted at some point in our lives with the challenge to “become a man in a place where there are no men.” How we choose to respond will be from the most defining moments of our lives.