Vayigash: Assimilation

Vayigash is the origin story of the Israelite/Jewish exile.

Exile, Galuth, is an important character in Jewish history. The land promised to Abraham, the reward for his obedience, is a prize that is, almost always, out of reach. The land is offered as  the reward for a renewal of that obedience. 

The formal promise of the land to Abraham , the covenant between the parts, contains a long, bitter period of exile.

וַיֹּ֣אמֶר לְאַבְרָ֗ם יָדֹ֨עַ תֵּדַ֜ע כִּי־גֵ֣ר ׀ יִהְיֶ֣ה זַרְעֲךָ֗ בְּאֶ֙רֶץ֙ לֹ֣א לָהֶ֔ם וַעֲבָד֖וּם וְעִנּ֣וּ אֹתָ֑ם אַרְבַּ֥ע מֵא֖וֹת שָׁנָֽה׃ 

And [God] said to Abram, “Know well that your offspring shall be strangers in a land not theirs, and they shall be enslaved and oppressed four hundred years;

(Gen 15;13)

Exile is woven into the Promise of the land. Although the period of exile is terribly long, several lifespans, it is  finite. The bad times will end and there will a return. There is  a Promised Exile. This is the covenent that sets up  most of  the action in the five books.  It is a prophecy that predicts an outcome, and thus, it  might generate its own fulfillment. The Joseph story, which culminates in this week's parsha, with the descent of the 70 person Jacob family to Egypt, is the prequel to the main event: Moses leading the people out of Egypt and to the edge of the Promised Land. . 

Most of Jewish history has been spent in exile  dreaming  of redemption. Recent history has added complexity to the dream covenant.  A Jewish state in (part of) the Promised land of the bible is not enough.  The Orthodox continue to pray a return to Zion. What are they praying for? Nothing less than Heaven on earth will satisfy the vision of the promise.

 Egypt is an escape from famine, not a permanent home.  The impermanence of the Egyptian sojourn is clearly expressed by the Israelites  when the come down to Egypt.

וַיֹּאמְר֣וּ אֶל־פַּרְעֹ֗ה לָג֣וּר בָּאָ֘רֶץ֮ בָּ֒אנוּ֒

They said moreover to Par῾o, To sojourn in the land are we come;

Pharaoh and Joseph do more, They provide a land grant, a potentially permanent new home: 

וַיּוֹשֵׁ֣ב יוֹסֵף֮ אֶת־אָבִ֣יו וְאֶת־אֶחָיו֒ וַיִּתֵּ֨ן לָהֶ֤ם אֲחֻזָּה֙ בְּאֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרַ֔יִם

And Yosef provided abodes for his father and his brethren, and gave them a possession in the land of Miżrayim

When the Israelites came to Egypt, the dream of the covenant was strong. They are deeded land and things change.  It is not clear when their motivation for returning to Canaan faded. Perhaps they were reluctant to "return" to a land subject to occasional famines; a place where the local tribes are probably conspiring against the devious destroyers of Shechem; that land where Esau is lurking.  Meanwhile, they became quite comfortable in  Egypt. The Babylonian exile, a millennium later, was similar. Only a small fraction of the Jews "returned"  to the Promised Land from Babylon ( or Persia)  when they had the opportunity.  The Babylonian (majority)  "remnant" came to dominate Jewish thought. 

The Egyptian experience could have turned out differently. The Israelites could have stayed permanently. They could have remained in Goshen.  They could have reacted to their persecution with rebellion and, possibly, local conquest.  Perhaps it was not a  coincidence that the final, definitive victory, that destroyed the Egyptian military also  put the (impassable) Sea of Reeds between the Israelites and any plan of return to Egypt.  Perhaps, later, when the rebels in the dessert threatened  to return to Egypt, they imagined themselves as masters in a land of plenty, not slaves.

The identification of Egypt as exile reflects the Torah's vision of world order. Nations are assigned territories by Gd. They cannot march into places that were not designated for them and claim sovereignty. Famine can dictate migration; considerable economic gain might justify ( temporary) emigration from the assigned land. But people do not have the right to conquer foreign lands . Colonial empires are not for Jews; more often, the Jews are exploited as foreigners, even in the Promised Land. 

The story  of migration to Egypt  reveals the  tension between assimilation and identity. Joseph instructs his brothers to present themselves as cattle-breeders rather than shepherds when meeting Pharaoh, knowing that shepherds are considered abhorrent to Egyptians.  However, the brothers ignnore this advice, proudly  (or ignorantly) declaring themselves shepherds like their ancestors. This tension between assimilation and tradition would play out countless times as Jews migrated to new lands.

I saw the  conflict between the newcomers and the assimilated play out in my family . When my parents came to America, the more assimilated American cousins tried to teach them how to be American: the right phrases and gestures. My parents were lost. The world of their childhood was a dreamlike legend both  to them and their American host-peers. The Yiddish language was now reserved for witticisms; otherwise, it was to be forgotten along with the traditions it recalled.

Settled immigrants and newer immigrants are in a  dance. Those who came earlier sacrificed their pasts and endured the hardships of pioneers. They were forced to adapt and found appealing aspects in the new ways. Those who prospered were  in a position to rescue their kin. Along with the welcome came a mixture of advice and dominance.   The acclimatized, now naturalized citizens, want to keep the wealth and power they have acquired through assimilation. The newcomers dredge up the old resentments and stereotypes. They remind the assimilated of things they  have lost. 

My parents tried to become American, but there were limits to how much they could change .  American non-kosher food was too foreign; they never lost their accents.  It is only now that I see how intelligently they selected from the menu of possible Americanisms, along with the clever rejections. Those choices are most of what I am. 

I married an Amerikainer, a woman whose roots were in the uppermost corner of the West coast, the most American place in America. Her American forebearers  stretch back to  the  colonization of Puget Sound by Europeans, five generations. Her parents spoke perfect English, no Yiddish. Her grandmother made Rice Krispy cookies. But the spark of the dormant  traditions was in her. She was sent to Jewish school, exposed to our history in a favorable light. She grew to love it.  Now our children have it, in their own, hybrid, ways. I am very hopeful for the next generation as I see them sing our songs. 

Chanuka celebrates the victory of Jewish tradition over the temptations of assimilation. A new tradition, the lighting of the menorah, comes to preserve the old portfolio of beliefs and practices. The Jews rejected becoming Greek, but they became proficient in many of the arts the Greeks developed. Chanuka is the paradigm of selective assimilation, a trick that is modeled in  Vayigash. 

 

The tension between assimilation and tradition, the complex dynamics between established immigrants and newcomers, and the challenge of maintaining identity while adapting to new surroundings all echo the patterns first seen in Vayigash. The  choices made for immediate survival can have long-lasting consequences for identity. 

Make your choices carefully.