Strength, strength, and we shall be strengthened.
As we imagine the transition between 2020 and 2021, we can think of a wide gulf between them or narrow trickle. Either way, it is a conceptual framing we give to ourselves. Is something truly different one day to the next? What exactly happens at midnight? What is the difference between the two years, if any? That is up to each of us to answer and to make happen.
This week’s portion is a perfect invitation to explore those questions, to reflect on how we got to this point. Our portion, Vayechi is the last portion of the book of Genesis and the shortest.
It begins with, Bereshit 47:28:
וַיְחִ֤י יַעֲקֹב֙ בְּאֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרַ֔יִם שְׁבַ֥ע עֶשְׂרֵ֖ה שָׁנָ֑ה וַיְהִ֤י יְמֵֽי־יַעֲקֹב֙ שְׁנֵ֣י חַיָּ֔יו שֶׁ֣בַע שָׁנִ֔ים וְאַרְבָּעִ֥ים וּמְאַ֖ת שָׁנָֽה׃
Jacob lived seventeen years in the land of Egypt, so that the span of Jacob’s life came to one hundred and forty-seven years.
As we come to the end of the book of Genesis, the Torah steps back for a moment to let us see the bigger picture. Jacob and his family have been living in Egypt under Joseph’s protection for 17 years. Living outside of their homeland and instead in Egypt.
Chizkuni, a French scholar from 13th century, says about this verse:
“Yaakov lived in the land of Egypt;” all the years of Yaakov until he settled in Egypt could not truly be described as חיים, “life,” seeing that they were all clouded by different kinds of anguish. It was only during his last seventeen years in Egypt that his mind was at rest and not beset by serious worries of one kind or another.
In fact, this whole verse has been inserted in the Torah as a compliment to Joseph who was the cause of Yaakov’s last seventeen years being happy years. During those 17 years he repaid his father who had sustained him for the first seventeen years of his life, by providing for him during the last 17 years of his life. He had been seventeen years old when he had been sold.
Namely, the Chizkuni is telling us that we can live without having life. That our struggles and challenges can be enough to “cloud” our ability to see our lives. On some level, this is about our capacity to be self-aware. Have we been paying attention enough to what matters?
This brings us back to the New Year. My mother always says that we’re lucky because we have “two new years” as Jews. Rosh Hashanah and December 31st/January 1st. We have two chances to reflect, do teshuvah, and ask ourselves that question, are we alive or are we living?
The Jewish Tradition agrees with my mother and offers this from the first mishnah in Masechet Rosh Hashanah:
There are four new years: The first of Nisan is the new year for kings and for festivals. The first of Elul is the new year for the tithe of beasts. Rabbi Elazar and Rabbi Shimon say: the first of Tishrei. The first of Tishrei is the new year for years, for shmitta and jubilee years, for planting and for [the tithe of] vegetables. The first of Shevat is the new year for trees, according to the words of Beit Shammai. Beit Hillel says: on the fifteenth of that month.
What this mishnah comes to teach, along with the relevant section of Talmud, is that our year is really made up of different points for us to reflect on what has happened to us.
In Nisan, the month with Passover, we count the new year for our society at large, holidays, government etc. This is why Passover is in the first month of the year. Each of the months listed offer us a different way of asking ourselves, what happened this year?
I’m a firm believer that we don’t need these relatively arbitrary moments to reflect, but they are a worthy invitation to do so. Below is a few of my reflections on the year and my thoughts on the year to come.
Best laid plans are still worthy plans.
My birthday is in March and about a week and a half before the Coronavirus shutdowns, I imagined the various parts of my life and how I wanted to improve them. Birthdays too can be an opportunity to reflect. I chose five categories, which spelled HEART. I chose this framing, in part, because 32, which is my age when writing this, spells lev in Hebrew, which means heart. It was kind of perfect. (I recorded a video overview of my vision.) The categories were: Health, Entrepreneurship, Atmosphere, Relationships, and Thinking and Mindset.
But, despite my best hopes, the world around us shut down and my plans for the year got thrown out like everyone elses.
That being said, it was still worth asking myself the questions, what do I want for myself? What will it require? What are my priorities?
Despite the fact that the year didn’t go as planned, I have made some progress on these big picture items. It is only upon this reflection that I can see how much has changed. As the we move through January, I will hope to revisit this exercise and imagine another year.
The lesson here is that planning is still valuable, even if nothing goes to plan. Spending time aspiring to be better is still worth it.
Relationships matter more than almost anything.
If nothing else, this last year has taught us about what is important. When we’ve stripped away all of the distractions of daily life, what we’re left with are the essentials.
For this past year, I have missed the people in my life. In particular, having people at my Shabbat table. Don’t get me wrong, the special, intimate meals with my wife have been really meaningful this year. And I now know that sharing joy, food, and friendship at my table must remain in my life in the years to come.
In fact, when all of the activities were cut from my life, what remained essential were my relationships. Friends, family, those close, and those far away, became the central focus of so much of my life.
Investing in family through Facetime visits with our nieces in Los Angeles, the special time, both virtually and physically, with our niece and nephew in New York, playing silly games with friends around the country, our socially distant walks in the park with our local crew, and the hours of phone calls with parents became precious.
What is my life really about if not in relationship with the people I love?
The lesson here is that stuff doesn’t matter, people do.
Human dignity is not up for trade.
It matters how we’re treated.
One of the things the Coronavirus did was cut away the excess in our lives, in our jobs, in our relationships. We can see it on a societal level and on a personal level. What remained was already there, was already true, but only now revealed or experienced with a new lens. In some places, what was left was encouraging, and in other places, toxic.
Doing that honest accounting is important. Recognizing that we must face that revealed truth and learning from it is essential.
Few will prioritize our human dignity over making their lives easier.
Over the past year, I’ve started to collect a few principles that are important to me. The truths in my life that guide and encourage me. I’d like to share a few that seem relevant looking down at 2021.
Be solution-oriented.
This is the Markiz family motto, so in any year, this would be at the top of my list.
In our family, this is the way we face every challenge. We evaluate the situation before us and then ask, what am I going to do about it? How can I turn this to a positive? What opportunities are available? What are the real risks here?
Stepping back and seeing the world as full of possibilities instead of setbacks.
In what looks like is going to be a challenging yet exciting 2021, looking for solutions will be so valuable.
Context is key.
As humans, we presume other’s experiences are the same or similar as our own. But, that’s not true. And yet, when I see the “advice” people offer one another, it rarely takes in the most important factor: context.
Each and every one of our contexts are different. Our lives, challenges, and perspectives are unique. As we come to support one another, we should hold back our initial responses and think about the context of the person before us.
More than that, as we learn and understand one another’s context, we better understand them as human beings. And that, my friends, is most important.
Questions for understanding will beat out context-free answers every time.
Always encourage others.
Believe in one another. Imagine the best for one another. Be proud of each other.
Everyone wins when we encourage each other to be the best we can be. Everyone.
I think encouraging others is like a super power.
Every book in the Torah ends with the exclaim:
חֲזַק חֲזַק וְנִתְחַזֵּק
“Strength, strength, and we shall be strengthened.”
What better way to enter 2021 with a reminder we are more resilient than we imagined and that together we can do this.
Happy new year!