"And Jacob saw the wagons that Joseph sent to carry him; and the spirit of Jacob their father was revived" (Gen. 45:27).
Jacob’s sons had informed their father that Joseph was alive and that he ruled over Egypt. Yet, despite the incredible news, Jacob couldn’t respond. He couldn’t bring himself to believe it. It was too much, too impossible.
But then came the wagons—those unmistakable Egyptian wagons—and everything changed.
What was it about the wagons that finally revived Jacob's spirits?
The New Rabbi
In a wealthy Sephardic community, the search for a new rabbi was nothing short of exhaustive. The committee scoured cities and villages, interviewing scores of scholars and sages. After much deliberation, they settled on an Ashkenazi rabbi, known for his piety and wisdom. It was a decision that raised more than a few eyebrows, but the committee believed it was the best choice.
Now, this was a proud Sephardic community—rich in tradition, steeped in history, and determined to preserve it. The mere thought of an Ashkenazi rabbi, with his foreign customs and unfamiliar practices, sent more than a few people into a cold sweat. "What if he forbids rice on Passover?" they whispered. "What if he insists on gefilte fish at every Shabbat meal?" Just imagining potato kugel and pickled herring at their synagogue kiddush was enough to send them into a mild panic.
So, to safeguard their cherished traditions, the community imposed a stipulation: the new rabbi could come, but only with his younger children—those still living at home. The older sons and married children? They could stay where they were. Let the Ashkenazi influence remain as little as possible, thank you very much.
When the time came for the rabbi's arrival, the community hired a wagon to transport him and his family. They didn't go for anything grand. No elaborate, gilded carriage befitting a scholar of such rank. No, they sent a modest, rather humble little wagon, barely big enough for the rabbi and his younger children. They couldn’t risk sending anything too fancy. After all, what if the older sons, seeing a fine new carriage, thought, Now this is a town worth moving to? No, no, they couldn’t have that. Keep it simple, keep it modest.
Pharaoh's Invitation
When Jacob first heard of Pharaoh’s invitation to bring his family to Egypt, he was filled with doubt. Could it really be true? Was Pharaoh’s offer genuine, or was it merely a gesture for Joseph's sake, a show of respect for his viceroy? "His heart stopped, for he could not believe them."
But then came the wagons.
The wagons arrived, one after another—grand, sturdy, well-appointed—each a testament to Pharaoh’s sincerity. They weren’t just a few carts to make Joseph feel appreciated. This was a full convoy, a fleet prepared to carry Jacob and his entire family, a display of hospitality and respect. In that moment, Jacob’s doubts melted away. Pharaoh’s invitation was not a mere diplomatic courtesy—it was a heartfelt offering. "He saw the wagons... and Jacob's spirit was revived."
