Parshat Vaera (Exodus 6:2 – 9:35)
Efrat, Israel – “And I will bring you into the land that I promised to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob; and I will give it you as a heritage: I am the LORD.’”
It is only natural for parents to desire to leave their children and grandchildren with a legacy. For those fortunate enough to be able to do so, this wish expresses itself in the form of an inheritance. But for most people, this is simply not realistic. How might they transmit a legacy to the next generation? I believe that the answer can be found in an important distinction in the Torah between the words yerusha (inheritance) and morasha (heritage).
We are all more familiar with the concept of yerusha, used throughout the Torah to describe the passing down of material possessions from parents to children. Far less common is the concept of morasha, mentioned in the Torah in reference to only two things: Torah and Land of Israel (the verse cited above at the outset).
The different contexts in which these words appear is quite revealing about the different kinds of relationships between parents and children, and different priorities handed down from generation to generation, that these bequests engender. I would like to explore three different examples in which the differences between yerusha and morasha will clarify the significance of each.
The first point of distinction is in the realm of effort. The Jerusalem Talmud speaks of yerusha as something that comes easily. When a person dies, leaving a yerusha, the heir need not do anything other than receive the gift. Morasha, however, requires much more.
The added letter mem in morasha, suggests the Jerusalem Talmud, is a grammatical sign of intensity, the pi’el form in Hebrew grammar. In order for an individual to come into possession of a morasha, they must work for it.
While an inheritance is what you receive from the previous generation—without your particular input—a heritage requires your active involvement and participation. A yerusha is a check your father left you; a morasha is a business that your parents may have started, but into which you must put much sweat, blood and tears.
This certainly explains why morasha is used only with regard to Torah and the Land of Israel. Our sages remark that there are three gifts that God gave the Jewish people that can be acquired only through commitment and suffering: “Torah, the Land of Israel and the World to Come.” And we understand very well that neither Torah nor the Land of Israel can be easily acquired.
Pirkei Avot 2:10 specifically teaches, “Prepare yourself to study Torah, for it is not an inheritance for you.” All achievement in Torah depends on an individual’s own efforts. A student of Torah must be willing to suffer privation.
Similarly, the Land of Israel cannot be acquired without sacrifice and suffering. One of the tests in the life of Abraham—and the source of the Jewish claim to Jerusalem—is the binding of Isaac on Mount Moriah. The message conveyed by the Torah is that we can only acquire our Holy Land if we are willing to place the lives of our children on the line. Every parent in Israel who sends his/her child to the army understands this message very well. A heritage comes hard, not easily, and our national heritage is Torah and Israel.
The second distinction between the terms is not how the gift is acquired, but rather how it may be dispersed. Even the largest amount of money inherited (yerusha) can be squandered or legitimately lost. In contrast, a morasha must be given over intact to the next generation. Morasha literally means “to hand over to someone else.” Silver is an inheritance, and can be used in whatever way the heir desires; silver Shabbat candlesticks are a heritage, meant to be passed down from parent to child and used from generation to generation.
Finally, in the case of an inheritance, one must have the object of yerusha in one’s possession. This need not be the case with regard to a morasha. Jewish parents bequeathed the ideals of Torah and the Land of Israel to their children for countless generations, even while living in exile far from the Promised Land, and even when poverty and oppression made it near impossible for them to become Torah scholars. Values can be passed down regardless of one’s physical or material station in life.
For this reason, an inheritance, regardless of its size, pales in comparison to a heritage. We all want to be able to bequeath a yerusha to our children and grandchildren, and we should do what we can to make that possible. Nevertheless, the most important legacy that we can leave them is a morasha, the eternal heritage, of Torah and the Land of Israel.
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