Death, Burial, and the Flowering of
Redemption
Passion, desire, and overwhelming
obsession plague the mind of Yaakov Avinu at the end of his life.
Fixated on ultimate burial in the land of Israel, Yaakov demands of
his favored son Joseph, “al na tikbereinu b’mitzrayim”, “dare not
bury in the land of Egypt” (47:29). Indeed, Yaakov’s insistence
inspires his son Yosef as well “v’ha’alitem et atzmotai mizeh,” “you
will raise up my bones from here (50:25).
” For the Rabbis, Yosef’s insistences
that the Israelites, upon the Exodus, carry with them his bones,
emerges from an eschatological vision. The Midrash HaGadol declares
that the oath that Yosef insists upon is meant not only to guarantee
his own burial, but signal a commitment, received through Yaakov,
that G-d shall certainly redeem His people. The Netziv, in his Ha-Emek
Davar, adds that the mere presence of Yosef’s bones represented a
source of hope for the Israelites as they suffered in Egypt.
Focusing only on the passing of Yaakov
and Yosef, with their subsequent resolve about being buried in
Israel, we conclude that burial in Israel represented for them that
the future of Israel lay beyond existence in Egypt; the sojourn in
Pharaoh’s land was a temporal existence for the Jewish people, whose
destiny lay not on the shores of the Nile river, but of the Jordan,
near their buried forefathers.
Viewed more globally, burial in Israel
represents an ideal throughout Judaism. The Torah expends numerous
verses depicting Avraham’s purchase ma’arat ha-machpeila as a burial
plot for Sara. So too, Yishma’el and Yitzchak converge oddly to bury
their father Avraham. The Midrash depicts even Esav’s desire to be
buried with his father. In all cases, the burial of dead is
associated with ultimate redemption. Perhaps most affective, is the
Midrash Raba’s declaration that Yaakov buried Rachel, b’derech
efrata (on the way to Efrat), so that she may cry for her exiled
children and greet them at the redemption.
As Jews, we are not jarred by the
association of death and redemption. Our funerals close with an
expression of belief in G-d’s justice and exaltation of His name,
with a powerful belief in the resurrection. Yom Ha-Atzmaut, Israel’s
Independence Day, is closely related to Yom Ha-Shoah and Yom Ha-Zikaron.
In our tradition and history, death and redemption are often
intimately intertwined.
Yet, the depictions of the previous
verses and midrashim do not relate necessarily to death and
redemption, rather burial and redemption. It is not Ya’akov’s death
that prophesies the redemption, but his burial in Egypt. The verses
depict in detail Avraham’s attainment of land for Sarah’s burial
plot, not her death. The Midrash focuses specifically on Rachel’s
place of burial, not her death. In all cases, burial, and not death,
surfaces as the harbinger of redemption.
Jewish burial laws are fairly clear. All
dead must be buried in the ground (YD 362:1). The action, central to
the Jewish funeral, mirrors the act of planting. We place a seed in
the ground, and then cover it with earth. Farmers expect with fair
certainty that their seeds, with water and fertilizer will bear
fruit; yet the unredeemed are often less sure of their redemption.
The Halacha insists that all dead be buried. Rather than treating a
lifeless body as something that needs to be disposed of, we treat it
like a seed, planted in the ground and representing a hope of
redemption. Leaving a body unburied rejects its future potential;
burying it in the ground, however, declares a belief in redemption
and resurrection.
Yaakov and Yosef’s insistence on a
burial in Israel, a tradition handed down from Avraham, represents
his commitment to the future of the nation of Israel in the land of
Israel. His body will represent the seed that flowers into a holy
nation. Rachel is planted on the “path to Efrat,” symbolizing as
well that there her nation will once again grow and prosper.
Much ink has been spilled debating the
depiction of our current State of Israel as “reishit tzemichat
geulateinu,” the beginnings of the flowering of redemption. With all
its imperfections, we wonder whether this State can truly represent
a beginning of any redemption. Nevertheless, this ancient metaphor,
depicting redemption as agricultural growth, epitomizes an
opportunity and inspiration. A sapling in its early stages is easily
cut down, its potential easily squandered. Yet the farmer who
protects, waters, and cares for this sapling increases its chances
of survival and may ultimately harvest its fruit. So too, our trial
in these challenging times for the State of Israel is to recognize
her potential. Committing ourselves to her, her people, and her
protection represents our opportunity to turn a simple sapling with
fragile potential into a powerful fruit-bearing tree of redemption.
Shabbat Shalom!
