Life isn’t easy. Family is complicated. Uncertainty, it turns out, is just part of the deal. Parshat Vayechi is not about escaping these realities, but about learning how to gradually build stability within them.
This was certainly true for Jacob. Jacob endured a lifetime of struggle—sibling rivalry, fleeing his brother Esau, years of deception and disappointment, and the long disappearance of his beloved son Joseph. Only during his years in Egypt does he finally achieve nachas, a deep sense of pride and satisfaction: his family is together, he meets his grandchildren, and the old man is finally at peace.
Our parsha draws our attention to these final seventeen years, opening with the words, “Jacob lived in the land of Egypt.” The phrasing is striking. Egypt is not the land of promise. It is not where Jacob expected his story to end. And yet it is here, in exile, that the Torah describes Jacob as truly living.
Rabbi Chizkiya ben Manoach, a thirteenth-century French commentator, hears in the word “lived” evidence of Jacob’s serenity. The years of Jacob’s life before Egypt, he explains, could scarcely be called life at all; they were clouded by anguish and worry. Only during his final years was his mind at rest, no longer beset by constant fear. At long last, Jacob was not merely enduring life—he was living it.
Jacob’s life models a profound insight: faith is not calm acceptance or untroubled certainty, but courageous struggle. Rabbi Sacks put it best: “Faith is not certainty. It is the courage to live with uncertainty.” Jacob does not arrive at serenity by avoiding hardship, but by experiencing it and refusing to surrender to despair.
Often, in the midst of struggle, we are tempted to try to change our circumstances. And sometimes that is the right response. But Jacob’s story points us in a different direction. Living does not require perfect conditions, because such conditions never truly exist. What it does require is the willingness to carry on. With courage, it is possible to live meaningfully, not merely survive.
This insight is woven into the very beginning of creation. The Torah never presents a utopian picture of human existence. The world is not created complete. From the opening of Bereishit, chaos is gradually shaped into order—first by God, and then, increasingly, by human beings who are called to imitate that divine work through their own imperfect efforts.
Jacob struggled more than his father or grandfather. His transformation into Yisrael—“the one who struggles with God and with men and has overcome”—was both an achievement and an invitation. It calls upon his descendants to form an identity resilient enough to remain faithful amid instability. We are the children of Israel. We carry within us the capacity to transform chaos into order.
When life feels unreal or not quite what we expected, the Torah does not ask us to deny reality or retreat into abstractions. It insists that the world is real, but uneven and unstable. Rather than fleeing into fantasies of illusion, we are asked to live on a journey that is bumpy, unpredictable, and still worthwhile.
Jacob’s final years show what such efforts can yield. After a lifetime of struggle, his chaos settles into quiet, unexpected meaning. That is the Torah’s promise: not a life without struggle, but a life in which struggle can give rise to satisfaction—and even peace.
Rabbi Benjy Rickman is Rabbi of the Yeshurun Shul, Manchester. Previously he was Head of Kodesh at King David High School Manchester for 19 years. He is known for his extensive contributions to Jewish education and community building.
Rabbi Rickman also serves as the Mizrachi Rav in Manchester. Additionally he is a Rabbi Sacks Scholar and delivers weekly classes on the writings of Rabbi Sacks. He is a trustee for the mental health charity JAMH and serves as their rabbinic consultant. He has a wealth of experience broadcasting on local and national BBC radio and television.
This essay was written as part of our collaboration with The Rabbi Sacks Legacy Sacks Scholars.
