Many a joke has been made about the opening of this week’s parsha. One famous example I recall hearing as a child goes like this: How do we know Yaakov Avinu wore a kippah? The Torah says ויצא יעקב, and Yaakov left. Would Yaakov go out without a kippah? I have often wondered whether this joke actually has its roots in biblical analysis. Rabbi Menachem Liebtag often speaks of objective analysis and subjective interpretation. All who read the Chumash, from medieval commentaries until today, see the same exact objective challenges and questions in the text – be it subject-verb agreement, seemingly extraneous words, etc. – that beg interpretation, and we only differ in our subjective explanations of those textual idiosyncrasies. The opening of our parsha is no different. All see the unnecessary wordiness of the opening pasuk: ויצא יעקב מבאר שבע וילך חרנה. Why is there a need to tell us that Yaakov left Be’er Sheva? Surely it could have been simply stated that he went to Charan, and we would implicitly know that he left Be’er Sheva. Yet there are many divergent approaches to explaining the necessity of the term ויצא יעקב in addition to וילך חרנה, and what it comes to teach us. Perhaps most famously, Rashi suggests that when a tzadik leaves a place, his absence makes an impression. There is a tangible feeling of loss without their presence, their influence. Upon deeper reflection, there is a challenge with Rashi’s approach. Avraham and Yitzchak also left places before, yet the Torah does not use this additional language of ויצא in any of those instances. Why wait until Yaakov to teach us this lesson? Additionally, even though Yaakov left Be’er Sheva, Yitzchak and Rivka were still present. The Kli Yakar suggests that it is specifically this last fact that motivates the Torah to teach us this lesson here. It would be easy to assume that the presence of Yitzchak and Rivka would mean the loss of Yaakov’s presence was insignificant, unnoticed. However, the Torah goes out of its way to highlight the departure of Yaakov to ensure we understand the impact of his leaving. This approach of Rashi makes sense and easily resonates. It is an unfortunate, though typical, human tendency to not always appreciate what we have until it’s gone. Many struggle to live in the moment, thus taking people and opportunities for granted, and only upon reflection in their absence realize the full impact of what we had, what we now miss. Rashi sees the Torah urging us to take full advantage of the people and opportunities we have available to us, and warns us not to wait until they are gone and it’s too late, for when the moment or person passes we will surely feel the loss. We all can think of great people, influencers, in our lives who we wish we had more time with, more time to learn from, more time to appreciate. The nuance added by the Kli Yakar is an additional layer of warning and a cautionary tale. If we are complacent in thinking not only that we have more time but also that there will be other opportunities, other people, teachers, or leaders to learn from, we will miss out on the singularity of the tzadikim, teachers, and leaders in our environs and the Torah, values, and lessons we can internalize uniquely from their example, from their perspectives. May we all be blessed to learn the lesson of ויצא יעקב and to appreciate the people and opportunities that are before us on a daily basis so we may maximize our experiences, our learning, and our personal growth. | 
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