“And I will bring you to the Land, which I have raised My hand to give to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob; and I will give it to you for an inheritance: I am the Lord’’ Exodus 6:8
January 15, 2026 11:46
In the summer of 1799, during Napoleon Bonaparte’s campaign in Egypt, a French army engineering unit was rebuilding a fort near the Nile Delta town of Rashid (Rosetta) when one of its officers, Pierre‑François Bouchard, noticed an unusual slab of dark stone built into a wall. Scholars quickly realised its significance.
The same decree was written in three scripts, including Egyptian hieroglyphs, which had been undecipherable for centuries. By comparing the Greek text to the hieroglyphs, linguists were finally able to unlock the language of ancient Egypt. Through this, the Rosetta Stone became much more than a historical artifact to admir e– it became a symbol of the responsibility entrusted to each generation to pass on their knowledge to those who would eventually succeed them.
God promises the emerging Jewish people: “I will bring you to the land… and I will give it to you as a morashah (inheritance).” This choice of noun, as opposed to the more common form, yerushah,, is unusual.
Rabbi Bachya ibn Pakuda explains the technical reason – the generation that left Egypt were not destined to enter the Land. Since they would not inherit it themselves, but would pass it on to their children, it was a morashah, indicating something assigned to pass on to the next generation, rather than possessed in perpetuity.
It is possible, however, that the Torah is pointing towards something deeper here. Another place that this rare word morashah appears is in Moses’ famous declaration: “The Torah that Moses commanded us is an inheritance (morashah) of the Congregation of Jacob” (Deuteronomy 33:4).
Even the Torah itself is not a yerushah. It is never owned by one generation alone. So too the Land of Israel. It is a precious place, the inhabitancy of which bears a deep responsibility to hand it on safely to the next generation.
This also helps explain a familiar Pesach mystery. We drink four cups of wine at the Seder, each corresponding to one of the four expressions of redemption set out in this week’s parashah. Yet we also pour a fifth – the Cup of Elijah – which we do not drink.
The fifth cup, alluded to in this verse in our parashah, represents the future redemption. It remains on the table because it is not ours to consume. It represents the responsibility we have to pass on our heritage to those who come after us.
Photo: A mountain gazelle runs on a hill next to a forest in the suburb of Jerusalem (Getty Images)
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