First of all, this morning’s class is dedicated in memory of Gera bat Rachel by all her daughters. She passed away three years ago. Francine, Shelly, Lori, and Lisa, and their grandchildren. Thank you very, very much. I did not know Gera that well, but I think I know all of her daughters and many of her grandchildren. Every single one of them, Baruch Hashem (Thank God), is on a beautiful and wonderful path. So it’s our zechut (merit) to have our Torah class today dedicated in her memory. In fact, I saw a couple of her grandsons this morning. I said, “You know, we’re doing the class.” I remember your grandma once said he wants to say Tehillim (Psalms). Baruch Hashem, it’s a beautiful family, and we’re lucky to be doing this in her memory. The Rambam’s yahrzeit (anniversary of death) is today.
Now, what we’re going to talk about today is being overwhelmed. My daughter gave me this idea the other day. She came over to me and said, “Dad, you know, my friends and I were talking. I guess I’m in finals and they’re coming up. We’re just so stressed out. You know, like, 16, right? And we’re overwhelmed. We need someone to give a class about this subject, about being overwhelmed. Dad, why don’t you give a class about this subject, being overwhelmed?” So I said, “Don’t I talk about that in half my classes?” She said, “Yeah, you always refer to it. But how about a full class on how to deal with being overwhelmed?” I said, “You know what? For you, I’ll do it.” So that’s what this class is about.
When we say “being overwhelmed,” we’re talking about a normal, regular life. You’re a regular person dealing with a few children, and one of them is really, really hard. Business is not as good as it used to be, and maybe you’re working a few days a week. At the same time, your husband isn’t in the greatest of moods, and you’re trying to pick him up. You have a sister who seems to be struggling, maybe even getting divorced, and you’re trying to help her out. You have another sister-in-law who doesn’t really talk to you so much. Your mother’s not doing so well. She’s in the hospital, and you’re trying to juggle all these things and manage all of it together. And you’re just like, “Ah, I can’t breathe. I need some—what do I do?” We’re talking about that case. Here we go.
The person we’re going to learn from is, I think, a mystery woman to many of us: a woman in the Torah whom many of you have heard of, but we know very little about. Maybe you heard about her in elementary school or something like that, but she plays a bigger role than you think. She seems to have an important part at key points in the Torah and our history. Like I said, maybe you heard a little about her, but have no idea of the magnitude of what she did and what she accomplished.
Last week, we spoke about six people: Bilhah, Zilpah, and their four children, Dan, Naftali, Gad, and Asher. This week, we’re going to talk about one of Yaakov Avinu’s descendants. Yaakov Avinu would come down to Egypt with 70 people: 70 descendants, 13 children, 53 grandchildren, and four great-grandchildren. The Torah lists almost every single one of them. Among his 53 grandchildren, there’s only one woman listed. Her name is Serach bat Asher. And that’s the woman we’re going to talk about today, Serach bat Asher.
I’m assuming some of you have heard of her, and many of you have not. By the time we finish this class, hopefully you’ll understand exactly who and what this mysterious woman was.
If you’ve heard of her, it’s probably because of the famous part of the story. Yaakov Avinu’s sons found Yosef and saw that he was still alive. But they were afraid to come back home and tell their father that his son, whom he’d been waiting for for 20 years, was still alive. They were afraid they’d shock him and he’d have a heart attack and pass away. So they came up with an idea. Their granddaughter, Asher’s daughter, Yaakov Avinu’s granddaughter, was a girl who played the harp. The idea was to let her go in to her grandpa, Yaakov Avinu, and start playing the harp and slowly sing that Yosef was still alive. That’s what she did, and Yaakov Avinu blessed her that she would live forever. That’s the famous part of Serach’s story.
I’m just curious: how many people have heard of this woman before? Okay, good. We have a significant number. Now, I want to understand this lady. She’s the only granddaughter of Yaakov Avinu mentioned in the entire list; everyone else is a grandson. There are 51 grandsons, and there’s one other granddaughter who isn’t mentioned. This is the only granddaughter who is mentioned. Binyamin had no daughters, Yosef had no daughters, Yehudah had no daughters, and Dan and Naftali had no daughters. She was the only one who had a daughter, and she got this blessing to live forever.
So I want to understand that. What exactly does it mean to live forever? Has anyone ever met Serach bat Asher? Anyone? Live forever? Second of all, all she did was play the harp and tell him three words: “Yosef is alive.” Why does that deserve this unbelievable reward of living forever? I mean, she’s just a messenger. Did you ever have somebody—I mean, yesterday I was home, and someone came to the house and delivered some fish to the door. I gave him a dollar. I didn’t tell him to live forever. Why? Just a messenger. All she did was say, “He’s alive.” Why does she deserve this unbelievable thing? And if she did live forever, do we see her again at all throughout the rest of history? Or does she just live forever alone in a cave? Where does she live? What does she do? What does it mean? What role does she play?
We’re going to try to understand this woman, and she’s going to help us understand and deal with our normal, regular, overwhelming lives. Now, if you have a huge problem, I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about a life that just has a lot in it, with a lot of things that are dizzying and stressful, and sometimes hard and sometimes weakening. That’s what we’re talking about.
There are some people who seem to have this ability, and when I see them, I admire them: the ability to be sort of above things, to deal with things calmly. Things can be coming and going and happening and busy, and they’re calm and okay. They still have their clarity of mind, their composure, and their strength. I want to tell you one story, one example of a woman who I think had this. Then we’ll see how Serach bat Asher captured this, and how much we can learn from this mysterious woman.
I’ll tell you a story that happened during, I think, World War II or right after. The story is told by the son of this person. There was a man who was a mohel (ritual circumciser), a known mohel who came from Russia. He was very involved in milah (circumcision), and he helped encourage even Russian boys, or even older men, who never got to have milah, to have milah.
Someone once asked him, “What’s your story? What’s behind you being this kind of man?” He said, “Let me tell you my story. My father was a regular fellow. He actually played music in Russia. But he was a religious Jew. His name was Avrum; they called him Avrum, from Avraham. That was his name. For a number of years, he had one girl, two girls—I think he had five daughters. But secretly, he and his friends would pray during the time of the KGB. Finally, I, his first boy, was born. He was so excited, jumping, all excited: ‘I have a son!’ He came running home and said, ‘The thing I’m going to do with this son—I now have a chance to give him a brit milah (ritual circumcision).’”
“Some of his relatives, I don’t know, his brothers, sisters, cousins, I don’t know what, found out about the brit milah and said they were going to tell the authorities, the KGB, on my father and get him in trouble. So they told the KGB. The KGB came down and said, ‘You better not perform a brit milah. It’s against the law. No, absolutely not.’ My father called the mohel. A few days later, in secret, he performed the brit milah. Two days after the brit milah, the KGB came down, took my father, and put him in jail for four months. For four months they put him in pain, tormented him, hurt him, and then, after four months, they let him back home.”
“His next baby was a girl. The baby after that—they were twins, one girl and one boy. Again, the KGB found out, came over to him, and said, ‘You saw what happened last time. Don’t you dare perform a brit milah for your son.’ He said, ‘My grandfather gave my father a brit milah, my father gave me a brit milah, and I’m giving my son a brit milah.’ A few days later, on the eighth day, he performed a brit milah. The KGB was fuming. ‘We could put you in Siberia for life.’ Two days later, they came to the house. They took him from the house and brought him to the jailhouse. They were ready to take him to Siberia.”
“And then my mother came along. Now, ladies, there are things you would think could scare the KGB. Maybe a gun, maybe a bomb, maybe America, maybe Nazis. Listen to what this woman did. I love this; it’s genius. She took her nine children and came to the KGB headquarters. She told the man in charge, ‘If you take my husband, that means I’m home alone watching these kids. I can’t do this. So, you know what? If you take my husband, you take them.’ And she left her nine children in the room and left.”
“True story. Again, you can threaten with guns and bombs, but leave nine Jewish kids—imagine what happened. They’re on the shades, they’re pulling the strings. This Russian guy is pulling the strings. They’re taking their shoes and writing on the papers and signing and coloring. He freaked out. Two minutes, ten minutes later, he comes downstairs, and the woman’s down there in the lobby saying Tehillim. He says, ‘Lady, here’s your husband, here are your kids. Get out of here.’”
That’s a woman who, in the middle of chaos, can think while it’s all going on. I envy that woman. She saved her life and her husband’s life, and that’s why her son would dedicate his life to brit milah. We need some of that. We need the ability to be sort of above the chaos and above what’s happening, the overwhelming things that are driving us crazy. We’re going to learn how to do this from this woman, Serach.
Let me first put in context the part of the story you already know, the part we just mentioned and the part most of you have heard before. I’m not sure if you fully appreciate what she accomplished.
When she walked into that room, Yaakov Avinu had been building his family. He had his 12 children, 13 children; he left Lavan’s house, and then slowly his life started to come apart. His wife died in childbirth. His only daughter was raped. His favorite son immediately afterward was, as far as he knew, killed and dead. He was hated by all his brothers. He sat in mourning for 20 years, thinking that his life’s mission, which was to bring 12 perfect tribes into this world, had failed because his son was dead.
And now famine came. There was no food for the family. He sent his sons, and this crazy king in Egypt held his other son, Shimon, captive. The boys came back and said, “You know what? Your son is dead, your favorite son is dead, your other son is being held hostage, and now we need your other favorite son.” He said, “All I have left from Rachel—she’s dead, her son is dead—all I have is Binyamin, and you’re taking him too?” “Dad, there’s no food.” After they were totally starving and there was no food left in the house, he said, “You know what? Take him.”
He’s sitting alone at home now. His sons are all gone, all away. He doesn’t know how they’re coming back. He knows one is being held hostage and one is dead. He knows his favorite wife is dead. He knows there’s no food in the home, and he’s alone. His whole life has fallen apart. Everything he lived for is unraveling in front of him. “What’s happening to my family? What’s happening to my life? What’s happening to my purpose in this world? My wife is gone. My son is gone. My other son is in jeopardy. My other son is being held hostage. There’s no food. What’s going to happen to us?”
Then this woman walks in, stands behind him, and slowly plays the harp. In three words, she says, “Yosef is alive.” Everything he lived for was restored. It meant his 12 sons were whole. It meant Yosef was great. It meant that his life’s purpose was actually there and fully happening. It meant that all his 12 sons were okay. It meant they’d have food, they’d be alive, and they’d be fine. All of a sudden, he went from having a life he thought was a wreck to having the life he wanted to live.
The pasuk (verse) at the beginning of last week’s parasha, Vayechi, says, “Vayechi Yaakov,” Yaakov lived for 17 years. The last 17 years of his life were alive. During those years, he had all his children. They were all whole and in place. They all loved each other. They all had their purpose. They were all righteous, exactly what he wanted and needed them to be. He was alive because this was the life he wanted to live. Serach did a lot more than tell him three words. She basically gave him his life back, because she gave him the life he wanted.
And I want to tell you something. In order for you not to be overwhelmed, I’m not going to tell you to stop caring for the kid, drop the job, stop taking care of your husband, or think that somehow miraculously your sister-in-law is going to start loving you again. But what I am going to tell you is that you have to decide to live the life you want, not the life people are forcing you to have to like your life. You have to like what you’re doing. You have to like how you spend your time. You have to like your life. Because when you like it and enjoy it, it’s so much easier to deal with it.
You can be busy all day. I’ve had days that were so overwhelmingly busy, and I hated them, because I was doing everything other people wanted me to do. And then there are other days when I’m so overwhelmingly busy, and I love it, because I’m doing what I want to do. You have to live the life you want to live.
Now, half of you are saying, “Thank you, Rabbi. I should live the life I want to live? In order to do that, trade three of my children. Maybe give me a new sister-in-law. Teach my mother all kinds of stuff. Maybe even replace my husband. Then maybe I have a shot at living. What do you mean, the life I want to live? What are you talking about? I’m here, I’ve got my kids, this is it. What do you mean, I want to live? Can I just snap my fingers and decide which kind of life I want to live?” Yes, you can. I’m telling you that you can live the life you want to live by living the exact same life you’re already living.
And do you know what my proof is? Serach and Yaakov. She didn’t come in with a delivery. She didn’t even give him a pair of shoes. She gave him nothing. She gave him three words. And with those three words, she changed the perspective of the life he was already seeing. Nothing new happened. She didn’t bring someone back to life, change somebody, or replace somebody. She just said something. And with those three words, the life he saw was totally different.
Last week, we read “The Law of the Garbage Truck.” You remember “The Law of the Garbage Truck”? First of all, some of you asked for copies. There are a bunch of copies in the back. There’s enough; if you want, you can take one on the way out. I don’t know if you want me to read it again. I think I read it once. It’s good enough. Can I read it again? Okay, I’ll read it again. You’re smart in the class. I’ll read it again. I’m going to read this again because I think its message is very important. I know most of you heard it last week. I didn’t read it six years ago; I read it last week. But I think the message is very pertinent to what we’re talking about right now. We still have work to do, but I want to give you this thought.
Again, this paragraph says: “I jumped into a cab to go to the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the car by just inches. The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. So my taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. I mean, he was really friendly. So I asked him, ‘Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital.’ And this is when my taxi driver taught me what I now call the law of the garbage truck.”
“Ladies, you remember this. This is the best part of last week’s class. He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, anger, and disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it. Sometimes they’ll dump it on you, but don’t take it personally. Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don’t take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the street. The bottom line is that successful people do not let garbage trucks take over their day. Life is too short to wake up in the morning with regrets. So love the people who treat you right, and pray for the ones who don’t. And the last line is the one we’re reading for this week: Life is 10% what you make it and 90% how you take it.”
What we want to focus on here is how to take it: what the perspective and approach are for how to take the life you’re living.
I want to tell you something. So many things just depend on how they’re viewed. I’ll give you an example. If I told you that tomorrow at 11 o’clock I’m going to take a beach ball and roll it down the aisle, and it’s going to hit the table in the back, how many of you would come to watch? You’re really crazy. So here’s my question. One person raised their hand, and I don’t know why, but here’s my question: Why, on New Year’s Eve, do they drop this ball? Ten people don’t come. A hundred people don’t come. A thousand people don’t come. A hundred thousand people don’t come. A million people come to see this.
You know what’s funny? I looked it up on YouTube. It’s the same thing last year, the year before, and the year before that. The exact same ball. There’s no suspense. There’s nothing like, “Oh, how’s it going to go down this year?” If I were running it, maybe one year I’d make it go up, or go from one to ten instead of ten to one. I don’t know. Maybe make it spin around. It’s the same thing every year. The same dumb hats on those people. The same guy who’s there from six o’clock in the morning, freezing his brains out just to be there. The same couple from Poland who came just to see it. They weren’t cold enough over there. I’m serious. And those hats look like they’re four years old every year. What are we doing? People stay up in their house just to watch the same thing. Somehow they convinced us that this is exciting, that this is something new, something to see. Next year, 2014, the exact same thing is going to go down, and a million people will be there again. Half of you are going to watch it again, because somehow they can convince us it’s exciting, and it becomes exciting.
Your life, the one you’re living right now—you don’t have to drop a kid to make it unbelievable. I want to show you something. I want to show you a picture. You’ve seen a lot of pictures like this. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen this one. You can hand it out now. Look at this picture and tell me if you see this man walking out of the room. You see him leaving? He’s walking out the door. He’s holding his cane. Is he walking in or is he walking out? That’s actually my question. Is he walking in or walking out? Pretty good. We can debate this for an hour. Very good. Some people see this picture and see the man walking out. Other people see the man walking in.
What I’m telling you is that you can see your own life falling apart, or, with the right perspective, you could see it coming together. Yaakov Avinu, for 20 years, thought his life was walking out. He thought everything was just coming down. What was actually happening was that his life was in the process of coming together. His son was in the place where he was supposed to be. His boys were getting kapara (atonement) to become what they were supposed to become. During those 20 years, when he thought his life was leaving him, his life was actually coming back to him.
We’re going to learn how to do this from Serach bat Asher again, because she arrives back in the picture another time. Let me tell you about that next time. Yaakov Avinu passes away, and on his deathbed he tells his children a code word. This is the code that will one day take my grandchildren out of Egypt. He tells his children and grandchildren, “You’re going to be in Egypt for many, many generations. But then a man is going to come along and give you this code. When he gives you this code, he’s the man to take you out of the country.”
When Yosef would pass away a number of years later, he would have his brothers, children, nieces, and nephews around his deathbed. Once again, he would say, “One day you’re going to leave this country, and the man who is going to take you out of Egypt is going to give you a code. This is the code: Pakod Yifkod. Pakod Yifkod. Remember those two words. Those are the words the man who will take you out of Egypt will tell you, and that means he’s the man.”
It’s 210 years later. All the tribes are dead. All the tribes are dead. All their children are dead, but one. A man comes along. His name is Moshe Rabbeinu. Moshe comes along and says, “I’m here to take you out of Egypt.” The Jewish people look at him. “How do we know you’re the one?” They turn to the only survivor of that generation, Serach bat Asher, and say, “What’s the code?” She says, “It’s these two words: Pakod Yifkod.” Moshe Rabbeinu, in this week’s portion, in next week’s parasha, says the two words, Pakod Yifkod, and becomes the one to take them out of Egypt.
Why is Serach the person to give that code? First, I want to understand what those two words mean. First, we’re going to give you the simple interpretation, and that’s going to help us on one level. Then we’re going to see a deeper interpretation that will help us on a whole other level and give us a whole different perspective on the life we already have. Pakod Yifkod means, “Remember, I will remember.” The simple message of those two words that she was trying to tell her great-great-nephews and great-great-grandchildren was that God never forgets. God always remembers. Understand that, yes, we’re in Egypt for 210 years. Pakod Yifkod: the words were said twice. I remembered the past, and I’ll remember you in the future. I always remember.
I want to tell you something. I don’t care what you’re going through in your life or how stressful it is. I can almost guarantee you’re going to be fine. I can almost guarantee that five years from now, you’re going to look back and say, “You know what? I made it. I handled it. It was okay.” I can’t tell you how many times you hear stories in the community. Our community does talk, and you hear things about a family struggling in some way, financially, in their marriage, or whatnot. And you know what happens? When you hear the story, you think, “That’s it. They’re over.” Then two or three or four years later, you see them again, and they’re okay. Somehow, I don’t know what they survived. Maybe they sold their home, but they’re okay. Maybe they changed businesses. And you know what? Maybe the marriage didn’t work out, but people end up okay. Hashem remembers. Her message to her grandchildren and great-grandchildren was that He remembered them the whole time, and He’s going to remember them in the future.
Serach is the woman who was able to rise above the chaos, see things from a different perspective, and tell Yaakov Avinu, “Your life, which you thought was leaving you, was actually coming together.” She now tells the Jewish people, “The thing you think is this—we’ve been here for 210 horrible, stressful, overwhelming years—God didn’t forget us. God remembered us in the past. He remembered us the whole time, and when we leave, He’s going to remember us again.”
This is the first concept I need you to understand. If you want to live life the right way, remember: God won’t forget you. I’m telling you, He didn’t forget you. I’ll give you a cute little story. There was a rabbi, a mashgiach (spiritual supervisor), an elder rabbi at a yeshiva, who would buy a baby gift whenever one of his great-grandchildren was born. That was the system: buy them an outfit. If it was a boy, a blue outfit; if it was a girl, a pink outfit. One of his grandchildren was having trouble having children. For years and years, she had trouble having children. Finally, she had a baby girl, and she was excited because she was finally going to get a gift from her grandpa for her daughter.
The grandpa came to the house and brought six pink outfits. She said, “Grandpa, I had one kid, not six.” He said, “I know. But you have to understand, this is the way I’d work every year when I go to America to raise money. That’s when I buy the outfits, and I call Grandma and say, ‘Who’s expecting? Who has plans on having a child?’ And that’s the one I buy a gift for. I decided that if I really believe Hashem is going to send you children, I have to buy the gift before I find out. So every year I bought you gifts in order. That’s why I have all these gifts for you, because every year I believed it was going to happen.” She said, “Grandpa, so you were carrying around for years six outfits?” He said, “No, twelve. I didn’t know if you could have a girl or a boy.”
That philosophy—understanding that God remembers and God does not forget—I’m telling you, He doesn’t forget. I’m telling you, He didn’t forget you, and I’m telling you, He won’t forget you. So when you’re in that feeling and you feel like it’s coming apart, I wish—you can’t say names—but I wish I could say, “Look at that family. Look where people thought they were five years ago. Look at them now.” Maybe they’re okay. Or look at that family, that person, that woman, that man, that kid. Look at them. Look how many examples there are. You can name the names yourself. There are so many examples of people whose lives look rough, and I’m not sure how they get out of it, but somehow God remembers. God remembers. God is not going to forget.
But that’s only half of it. Pakod Yifkod has a deeper meaning, and to me this meaning is even more important than the first. The word Pakod is used other times in the Torah. The word Pakod is used when God wants to appoint someone. Yifkod al ha’edah: appoints someone on the nation to have this special role. Pakod Yifkod means “appoint.” You were appointed. That means that when you’re going through whatever you’re going through, don’t look at it like you got stuck. You were appointed for this role. God chose this role for you. That means this role is here for your purpose and your goals.
What I want you to do when you’re dealing with all this stress is, instead of looking at it as, “Oh, all these things I have to deal with,” look at it as, “Look at all these things I was appointed to do. Look at all these things God put me on this earth to accomplish.” You can look at dealing with that son and say, “Oh, I have this son. He’s socially challenged. It’s so annoying to deal with him.” Or you could say, “Hashem gave me this boy for my job. I’m the only person on this planet who was put here to make this boy socially okay, to get married and one day have children.”
“Oh, my goodness, I got stuck. I’m dealing with a husband who’s not making any money, and we’re struggling.” My job on this earth is to show my children that you can have a strong marriage even without being able to do all the things you’re in the mood to do. That’s what I was appointed to do. “Oh, my goodness, I have a sister who’s just so annoying and so stressful, and she’s impossible. Her husband even hates her. What do you want me to do?” You know what I want? That means Hashem appointed you. He appointed you to be the sister who talks to her, helps her, and uplifts her. When you look at your life and all the things you’re doing as not just things that are here to pull you down, but things that God appointed you to do, it’s so much easier to like it, enjoy it, and appreciate it. You were put on this earth with a role. You were appointed. God wants you for something.
So, yes, you’re busy. Yes, you have 15 things you need to do. But you can either say, “You know what? I have to take my son or daughter to the dentist, the orthodontist, to check the braces. It’s just an annoying errand.” Or you could say, “You know what? I may have to help my daughter get married one day, and I have to give her a pretty face so that she marries a wonderful boy, so that one day she builds a family and has children and grandchildren who are on the right path I’m trying to help them follow.” In other words, me bringing my daughter to the orthodontist is building the future of the community. I’m not exaggerating a dot. I’m really not. I wasn’t trying to say that to be cute. I was saying that to be very real. You can look at your life as a bunch of things you have to do, or you can look at your life as so many opportunities you were appointed to accomplish. There’s a big difference.
When Serach bat Asher stood and told the words handed down from the previous generation, the key words that would take them out of this country were Pakod Yifkod. Number one: God will never forget you. Number two: what you’re struggling with, God didn’t stick it to you. God appointed you.
I’ll give you one little analogy. This is cute. I have two teenage daughters. One daughter’s hair was growing a little long, so my other daughter decided to cut it on her own. You could imagine how that went down in the house. She was running around: “She cut my hair! She cut my hair! Look how short it is. You can’t even see it. Look, she cut my hair! My sister cut my hair. Look how terrible she is. I’m not talking to her. Ma, you want me to talk to her? She cut my hair. She cut my hair. I look horrible. I look ugly.”
After three or four days, the sister who cut the hair said, “Do you realize that in the past four days you met like 20, 30 different people? You know what they all told you? You look gorgeous. How about a thank you?” All of a sudden, she—and you know, when teenagers don’t admit anything, so she didn’t say, “Oh, you’re right.” But there was sort of a smile on her face, as if she knew her sister was right.
Your hair, your life, is very often the same way. You think the guy’s leaving the room; he’s coming into the room. You think it’s falling apart, and it’s really coming together. Serach sent this message to the Jewish people, but she didn’t go away.
When the Jewish people were about to leave Egypt, there was one promise that all the brothers made to Yosef: “We will not leave this country until we can find your bones and take them out of Egypt.” Moshe Rabbeinu was ready to take the Jewish people out of Egypt in the coming parashiot, but he had one step left. He had to find the bones of Yosef in order to get them out of the country. Who was he going to ask? Serach bat Asher. So he called the old saintly woman and said, “Do you know where the bones are?” She said, “The bones are at the bottom of the Nile River.” He went to the edge of the Nile River and, in some way, brought the bones back up and took the Jewish people out of the country.
Why was she needed again? I think she was needed to send one more message: “You can’t leave unless you take what I just gave you into exile with you. You can’t leave and go into the desert and into Israel until you remember the message I’ve been holding on to for generations. Unless you understand that God never forgets, and that what you’re going through, you’re not stuck with—you’re appointed for.” So the Jewish people couldn’t leave the country until they met her, until she was the one to let them out.
But there’s one question that kept bothering me as I was preparing, learning, and understanding this: Where did she come from? Why was she chosen to play the harp for Yaakov Avinu and tell him, and why did she deserve all this long life? She just got lucky. She happened to be the harp player. Why her?
This is the thought I had: What does being a harp player mean? You know the harp. What does that mean? It means that during those 20 years, when Yaakov and all his children were in mourning and the whole setting was totally depressing, all the children and grandchildren were sad. Yosef was dead. Yosef was gone. Grandpa Yaakov was devastated. His life was over. Everybody was down. She was learning how to play the harp. That means she was playing music that was totally above the scene. She was playing music to say, “You know what? Life can be calm, and life can be okay,” even before we found out that Yosef was alive. She understood and lived it.
So when it came time to reveal to Yaakov that Yosef was alive, she was the only one deserving to be that person, because she was the only one who was living it the whole time. Everyone was happy now that they had found out he was alive. She was happy even then. She was happy before she realized what the picture really was. She was happy before she understood that this was the best, that Yosef was alive. She was playing the harp the whole time.
I want to give you one more story and then one more little thought. We’ll end at 12.15, I said. A cute, quick story: There was a young man who also had trouble having children. It’s a recent story. He had trouble having children, and one of his friends had been married for a number of years. One day, his friend was emptying out the garage. He called him and said, “You know, I’m emptying out my garage. I have some good stuff. If you want, come and see and take something.”
The man came to the garage and looked through it. In the corner, he saw a beautiful stroller. He said, “You know what? I’ve been praying for years to have a child. If I really believe that God’s going to send me that child, I’m going to take that stroller.” He walked out of the garage with a beautiful stroller, even though he had no children yet. Within the year, he had twins. And yes, the stroller was a double stroller.
You have to live the way Serach lived. Play the harp before you know the result. Understand that God doesn’t forget, and He didn’t stick you here. He appointed you for this.
Many, many, many, many years later, during the time of David HaMelech, David’s general would be—David was dealing with rebellions, problems, and stress, and there was one rebel who ran into a city. David’s general, Yoav, ran and laid siege to the city. In order to find this rebel, he was going to destroy the entire city. The pasuk in Shmuel Bet says that as Yoav was at the city, about to destroy the whole thing, a saintly, wise woman came to the gates and started speaking to Yoav. She said, “Calm down. There’s one person you’re looking for. We’ll find that person. Don’t destroy the whole city for this one person.”
Our rabbis tell us, “Who was that woman?” Serach bat Asher. She was supposed to live forever. 650 years later, she arrives on the scene. I think that’s the last time we ever see or hear of her. And I think it’s appropriate and perfect, because she would not be seen again after the time of David HaMelech.
What was David HaMelech known for? Playing the harp. David got the message of Serach bat Asher. In his Tehillim, basically every chapter has harp playing in it. In practically every chapter, he’s dealing with stress, troubles, wars, and problems—anything you ever went through, David HaMelech did. He had trouble with his children, rebellions from his children, troubles with his wives, trouble with his friends, trouble with his enemies, trouble with everything. Through it all, he read those Tehillim and played the harp. He got the message of Serach bat Asher.
Our rabbis say Serach bat Asher was one of nine people to go directly to Gan Eden. We don’t see her anymore, but her message is still very much alive: the message that revealed to Yaakov what was happening in his life; the message that took the Jewish people, showed them their leader, and took them out of Egypt; the message that a few hundred years later would be reminded to David HaMelech’s general: “Relax. You need one thing. Find that one thing.” The message of the harp that she would give to David, that David would give to us—the Tehillim that we read every single day. That message is always with us.
The life you have should be the life you want. Sit down tonight, sit down on Saturday night, and look at your week and say, “What am I doing here that fills my role? What am I doing here that fills what I’m appointed for? Look at my life: this I want to do, and this I want to do; this I’m supposed to do, this I’m here to do. This is what I’m accomplishing, and that’s what I’m accomplishing.” Look at your coming week not with depression and annoyance, but with excitement. God doesn’t forget you. God didn’t forget. God remembers you. He did, and He still will. God didn’t stick you in this position. God didn’t throw you here. The man isn’t walking out of the room; he’s coming in. Your life isn’t falling apart; it’s coming together. Everything you’re dealing with is not what you were stuck with; it’s what you were appointed to do. Thank you.