Rav Soloveitchik zt”l was discussing Yaakov Avinu, and he started with two questions. One question is that the pesukim as well as the Midrash, emphasize the term zaken regarding Yaakov. Yaakov was not so old, compared to Avraham and Yitzchak. How come the Chumash emphasizes the idea of oldness by Yaakov more than the other Avos?[ii]

Another question the Rav raised is the name of Bnei Yisrael. We take specifically Yaakov’s name as our national name; we call ourselves Bnei Yisrael, and Beis Yaakov. Why? Why Yaakov as opposed to Avraham or Yitzcahk? There is, of course, an obvious answer to that question. If we were to call ourselves Bnei Avraham or Bnei Yitzchak, it would not be accurate, because Bnei Avraham includes Yishmael, and Bnei Yitzchak includes Eisav. So clearly, Bnei Yisrael or Beis Yaakov, are the only names that fit. The Rav thought however that one could also develop  deeper answer to this. Why do we take Yaakov’s name as our name?

To answer these questions, the Rav said as follows. There was one way that Yaakov Avinu surpassed Avraham and Yitzchak. Avraham and Yitzchak taught their children Torah, the Mesorah. Yaakov, however, was the only one of the Avos to have a long, complete, full, rebbe-talmid relationship with his grandchildren. Yaakov taught his children, and Yaakov, as the Midrash emphasizes in Parsas Vayechi, became the primary ba'al mesorah for Menashe and Ephraim as well. He sat and learned with his grandchildren for 17 years, and he became their direct ba'al mesorah. His relationship with Menashe and Ephraim is so powerful that Yaakov makes a startling declaration, “K’reuven v’shimon yi’hyu li.” He makes them into his own children! He declares they are like his own children and they receive two of the portions of Eretz Yisrael! Yaakov took two of his grandchildren and converted them into his own children! Halachically![iii] In other words, the Rav explained, Yaakov Avinu experienced the Mesorah fully not only with one generation but with two[iv].

All of the Avos symbolize the Mesorah. However, the Rav explained that of all the Avos, Yaakov symbolizes the Mesorah most powerfully. This might answer the two questions raised above. Why does the Midrash emphasize that Yaakov is a zaken? Because that is exactly the point -- even as an old man, Yaakov was experiencing the Mesorah directly. He was already an old man. Often when one is an old man, it is hard to connect to a much younger generation. He bridged the generation gap, and as an old man, he was experiencing the Mesorah directly. He became the primary rebbe of his grandchildren. There was a direct Mesorah, like father to son, from grandfather to grandson. Maybe that is why there is an emphasis on Yaakov being old. We are emphasizing that even as an old man he was an active, direct member of the Mesorah at a very old age.

The Rav continued that this might be a very deep and beautiful pshat as to why we are called Bnei Yisrael and Beis Yaakov. The simple answer, as we said above, is that Bnei Avraham would include Yishmael and Bnei Yitzchak would include Eisav. But a deeper pshat might be that Yaakov symbolizes the Mesorah, and the essence of Yahadus is the Mesorah; therefore, our name as a nation is Bnei Yisrael, we are Bnei HaMesorah. We chose the name of the Avos who most powerfully represents and symbolizes the Mesorah. Yahadus is about Mesorah. We have a job to receive, accept, learn and absorb our Mesorah from our parents and  teachers. Then, we have to hold onto it, guard it, and pass it on to the next generation. That is Judaism. Judaism is about the Mesorah. Therefore, since Yaakov is the ultimate symbol of Mesorah, Yaakov’s name becomes our name[v].

And finally, it is very striking that the name of the parsha that describes Yaakov’s death is Vayechi- And Yaakov Lived. Whenever one thinks about Yaakov’s death, the first word one thinks of is Vayechi. Even as he died, Yaakov continues to live on through his descendants. That is Yaakov, and that is the Mesorah[vi].

We received the Torah at Har Sinai several thousand years ago. It is our job to maintain and guard our Mesorah until the Moshiach comes Bimhera B’yameinu Amen.

[i] This major part of this Dvar Torah can be found in the firt essay of a book called Reflections of the Rav, vol. 2, in the first essay. I remember where I read this article for the first time. I was at my friend’s house for Shabbos, sitting on the couch, reading this. I had never seen the book before, and I started crying right there. Later, I found there is a recording of this Dvar Torah as well.

[ii] There are many examples where Yaakov is referred to as the zaken. In Breishis (43,2), Rashi quotes, “Yehuda amar lahem, hamtinu l’zaken, ad she’tichcheh pas min habayis.” Later on in pasuk 27, Yosef asks, “Avichem hazaken, is he still alive?” When the Rambam quotes the famous Gemara (Pesachim 56a), where Bnei Yaakov said “Shema Yisrael” and then Yaakov responded “Baruch shem…”, the Rambam’s language is lashon, “Yisrael hazaken said this.” Also in Breishis Rabba (beginning of Parsha 70) we find “va’yidor Yisrael, Yisrael saba,” again Yaakov is referred to as being old.

[iii] It is interesting that we find in the Pirkei D’Rebbe Eliezer, that “b’nei banim, harei heim k’banim.” This posuk is the makor. The makor that is quoted is Yaakov’s comment that “Menashe v’Ephraim, k’reuven v’shimon yi’hyu li.” See the Torah Shleimah perek 48, midrash 34.

[iv] The Midrash does say that Avraham learned with Yaakov and Eisav when they were young, until they turned 13 or 15, that is true. However, if somebody would ask, who was Yaakov’s primary ba'al mesorah, it was Yitzchok, not Avraham. Yitzchak was Yaakov’s primary rebbe.

[v] Chazal tell us that Yaakov Avinu lo meis, Yaakov Avinu never dies. The Gemara asks, Yaakov never dies? But we know he was embalmed and buried. The Gemara quotes a posuk that mentions children and grandchildren, and says, mah zar’o bachayim, if one’s descendants are alive, then he is alive as well. Of course Yaakov died physically, but since his kids and grandkids lived on with his ideals of how to serve Hashem, it is as if he is still alive. Mah zar’o bayachim, af hu bachayim. That ma’amar Chazal represents the Mesorah. It is striking that of all the Avos, we only find that ma’amar Chazal regardng Yaakov. This is because the Torah has a different language by Yaakov than it does by Yitzchak and Avraham. When the Torah describes the death of Yaakov the posuk does not say “va’yamos” in the same way. The Torah has a different language, and therefore, Chazal develop this idea that Yaakov never died. But why does the Torah use different language only by Yaakov?

What is the pshat that he never died? If his grandchildren are alive, if his children are alive and living according to his ideals, then it is as if he is alive. Beautiful. How come we find this only by Yaakov and not by the other Avos? Maybe because Yaakov symbolizes the Mesorah the most and therefore this ma’amar Chazal of Mesorah you find by Yaakov more than the other Avos. The idea that Chazal say Yaakov Avinu lo meis, that we do not find by Avraham and YItzchak, is discussed at length by the meforshim on the Gemara and other meforshim. See the Torah Shleimah perek 49 footnote 408 for a full discussion. He quotes there the Maharsha and others who say the reason why we find it by Yaakov and not by the other Avos is because the ma’amar Chazal is just like “zar’oh bachayim, af hu bachayim,” but the other Avos had descendants who were resha’im, so how could you say mah zar’oh bachayim af hu bachayim?" They did not follow in the ideals of the father and the grandfather. That is the pshat which the standard meforshim give. On top of that pshat I want to suggest based on what the Rav is saying, that we find only by Yaakov “Yaakov Avinu lo meis,” because Yaakov represents the Mesorah even more than the other Avos.

[vi] The background of the speech the Rav gave is as follows. He gave this speech at a Pidyon Haben in 1974. The father of the baby was in the Rav’s shiur. The baby’s grandfather had been in the Rav’s shiur in the 40s. That is already exciting. And then the Rav described that the grandfather’s grandfather, the baby’s great-great-grandfather, had sent the Rav a letter in the 1940’s. In the letter, he asked the Rav to please keep an eye on his grandson and report on his progress. So the Rav had a 5-generation connection to this baby. The baby was there. The father was in his shiur, the grandfather had been in his shiur, and the great-great-grandfather had sent the Rav a letter 30 years ago saying please keep an eye on his grandson, and report to him. The Rav said he was in a nostalgic mood and spoke about the Mesorah. We have a wonderful, beautiful Mesorah. It has been around for a long time, and our job is to guard it, and hold it, and maintain it, and then pass it on to the next generation. This is what Yahadus is all about. This is Yaakov, and as we said, when you are in the Mesorah, you might die physically, but you live on through your children and talmidim.

The Rav gave this Dvar Torah, and then the Rav said this idea that Yaakov Avinu bridged the generation gap and was able to connect with his grandchildren, the Rav himself experience when he was giving shiur. The Rav gave this speech at a Pidyon Haben in 1974, and he was 71 years old. Some of his students in shiur were young enough to be his grandchildren. The Rav described how he felt giving shiur as an old man, and passing on the Mesorah to a second and third generation. I am including a transcription of that part of the Rav’s Dvar Torah.

As a matter of fact, I want to tell you, and please don't, don’t misinterpret my words, I am not trying to brag or to boast, very far from it, but whatever I have said now is not just an idea. To me it's an experience. Let me say that the secret of mispar ha'do'ros, of combining, uniting, merging many generations into one community, where discrepancy of age disappears, where years play no role, centuries have no significance. Where generations, I mean, can, so to say communicate, commune with each other, I do experience every time I enter the classroom at the yeshiva. And I've been a teacher for the last, how many years? (other people speaking) Oy vey, I'm that old.

Whenever I enter the classroom which is crowded with boys, who could be as far as age is concerned, my grandchildren. I enter the classroom as an old man, I am old- with a wrinkled face and eyes reflecting fatigue and the sadness of old age. You have to be old in order to experience that sadness. It's a very strange sadness; it's the melancholy of remembering things, things which disappear, they don't exist. When I enter a classroom I sit down, and opposite me are rows of boys, young boys with beaming eyes, beaming faces, clear eyes, radiating the joy of being young.

Always when I enter, you know I enter in a very pessimistic mood, I always enter the class in despair. And I ask myself, I mean, every time I enter the classroom- can there be a dialogue between an old teacher and young students? Between a rebbe in his Indian summer and boys enjoying the spring of their lives?

I start the shiur, I don't know what the conclusion will be. Whenever I start the shiur, the door opens, another old man walks in and sits down. He is older than I am. All the talmidim call me the Rav, he is older than the Rav. He is the great, the grandfather of the Rav; his name is Reb Chaim Brisker. And without whom no shiur can be delivered nowadays. Then, the door opens quietly again and another old man comes in, he is older than Reb Chaim, he lived in the 17th century. What’s his name? Shabsai Kohen- the famous Shach- who must be present when dinei mamonos are being discussed; when we study Bava Metziah, Bava Kamah. And then, more visitors show up. Some lived, some of the visitors lived in the 11th century, some in the 12th century, some in the 13th century, some lived in antiquity- Rebbe Akiva, Rashi, Rabbeinu Tam, the Ra'avad, the Rashba, more and more come in, come in, come in.  Of course, what do I do? I introduce them to my pupils and the dialogue commences. The Rambam says something, the Ra'avad disagrees; and sometimes he's very nasty. Very sharp, harsh language he uses against the Rambam. A boy jumps up to defend the Rambam against the Ra'avad, and the boy is fresh- you know how young boys are fresh- so the language he uses is improper, he uses improper language. So, I correct him. And another jumps up with a new idea; the Rashba smiles gently. I try to analyze what the young boy meant, another boy intervenes, we call upon the Rabbeinu Tam to express his opinion, and suddenly a symposium of generations comes into existence.

Generations! Young boys- 22, 23, 24 years of age- there are boys who are just 18 years old in my class. One generation. then my generation, then the generation of Reb Chaim Brisker, then the generation of the Shach, then the generation of the Rashba, the Ramban, the generation of the Rambam, the generation of Rashi, the generation of the Rabbeinu Tam, and then, I mean there is no end! What about the Rav Hai Gaon? What about Rebbe Akiva, Rebbe Elazar, Rav Yochanan ben Zakai? All generations somehow…          

We all speak one language, “v'thi kol ha'aretz safah achas u'd'varim achadim.” We all chat, we all laugh, we all enjoy the company, and we all pursue one goal; we all are committed to a common vision, and we all operate in the same categories. There is mesorah collegiality, friendship, comradeship between old and young, between antiquity middle-ages and modern times, “v'hu ha'keitz.”

This unity of generations, this march of centuries, this conversation of generations, this dialogue between antiquity and present will finally bring the redemption of the Jew.

Let me tell you that at the conclusion of three and sometimes four hours, I mean I have here a witness, I emerge young and elated, younger than my pupils. They are tired, exhausted, some of them yawn. I feel happy. I have, I have defeated age. I have defeated oldness; I emerge young, less fatigued, less exhausted than my young pupils.  We belong to the same Mesorah community, where generations meet. Where hands, no matter how wrinkled and parchment dry one hand is and how soft and wan the other hand is, shake, unite, and in a community where the great dialogue continues. When I was looking at the baby who was redeemed this evening, I don’t know whether he will be in my class, whether I will live to have him. But someone will sit and teach the baby, and the baby is already a member if the community, of the great Mesorah community. And I feel as if I, it is possible to establish communication with this baby.

When my rebbe, Rav Schachter shli”ta, spoke about the Rav during one of the hespeidim, described this exact notion. He said the Rav’s shiur was so exciting, and alive, and he brought the whole sugya to life. Rav Schachter said you mamash felt as if the Tanaim and Amoraim and the Rishonim were sitting in the room, talking to each other. That is what the shiur felt like. The Rav lived in Boston. He came in to NY to give shiur at YU on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Rav Schachter said when he was in YU, the joke was that

‘on Mondays and Thursdays there is krias hatorah, and on Tuesdays and Wednesdays there is kabbalas hatorah.’

That is the way the boys felt when they were in shiur.

The Rav described that if you get past the first generation to the second generation, there is no end. When you are in the Mesorah, the Mesorah is alive. We are all part of the same Mesorah. And when you feel plugged in to the Mesorah, you can get koach from that connection to the Mesorah. When the Rav was older and had health problems, he would come to shiur in a weakened state and in pain. Then, by the time shiur was over, he felt strengthened and could have gone on for longer, while the talmidim were wiped out. He had the whole Mesorah behind him.

I experienced this myself. I was never in the Rav’s shiur. I heard Rav Ahron Soloveitchik zt”l give a shiur in YU. He was a very old man when I was there, and he had gone through a stroke, and had a heavy walker, and he walked slowly and was krechtzing when he walked.

It would take him several minutes to walk from one end of the room to the other. He would sit down and start giving shiur. It was a parsha and hashkafa shiur, and he would come to life during the shiur! The shiur would go on for around 2 hours, and we would stop for Maariv; otherwise, he would have gone on for longer. I saw this myself -- an old, frail man, who could barely walk, would come to life while giving a shiur. The Mesorah is alive and one draws strength from the Mesorah.