That’s what it must have been like for the Israelites after Jacob died. Ginzberg, in Legends of the Jews, tells us that as soon as Jacob’s eyes closed, so did the eyes – and hearts – of his descendants. They began to feel the weight of being strangers in a strange land.
But here’s the thing: true enslavement didn’t grip them immediately. Why?
As long as one of Jacob's sons lived, the Egyptians hesitated. They held back from outright oppression. There was a lingering respect, perhaps, or a fear of the power that still resided in those who remembered the promise given to Abraham.
Think about that for a moment. One person, one life, holding back the tide of suffering.
But time, as it always does, marched on. One by one, Jacob’s sons passed away. According to the Legends of the Jews, it wasn't until Levi, the last of them, breathed his final breath that the true suffering began.
Now, a shift had occurred, yes, immediately after Joseph’s death. The Egyptians began to change. You could see it in their eyes, hear it in their tone. But they hadn’t yet fully revealed their hand. They still wore a mask.
It was only when Levi was gone that the mask was completely discarded. The stage was set. The slavery of the Israelites, in good earnest, began.
It’s a stark reminder, isn’t it? Of how fragile freedom can be. And how the passing of even one righteous individual can alter the course of history. What does that say about the impact we each have on the world around us?