Picture this: seventy eighteen-year-old girls packed into the middle section of a flight from America to Israel, their voices creating a symphony of excitement that could probably be heard three rows away. Last week, as my family and I settled in for the grueling 9.5-hour journey home, I found myself captivated by their energy. They were all coming to Israel for the year to study at seminary. For some, this was their first time visiting Israel. And for a majority of them – it was their first time away from home. They spent the entirety of the flight clutching journals, taking pictures, and speaking in rapid bursts about everything they planned to see. Their infectious enthusiasm reminded me that certain journeys change us before we even arrive at our destination.
But here’s what struck me most: these young women weren’t just traveling to a new country. They were participating in something far more ancient and prophetic than they probably realized. Every laugh, every wide-eyed conversation about what to expect during this magical year, every nervous giggle about speaking Hebrew with actual Israelis – all of it was part of a pattern established thousands of years ago in the most unlikely of places.
What does it mean when an entire generation steps forward to embrace their destiny, even when that destiny seems impossible?
The answer lies in one of Scripture’s most remarkable chapters, where we meet seventy people who changed the course of history simply by saying yes to an impossible dream. In Exodus 1:5, we read:
וַֽיְהִ֗י כׇּל־נֶ֛פֶשׁ יֹצְאֵ֥י יֶֽרֶךְ־יַעֲקֹ֖ב שִׁבְעִ֣ים נָ֑פֶשׁ וְיוֹסֵ֖ף הָיָ֥ה בְמִצְרָֽיִם׃
The total number of persons that were of Jacob’s issue came to seventy, Joseph being already in Egypt.
These seventy descendants of Jacob didn’t just relocate, they planted the seeds of a nation that would eventually transform the world.
Consider the audacity of that moment. Jacob’s family was leaving everything familiar to join Joseph in Egypt, a land of foreign gods and strange customs. They had no guarantee of success. No promise that Pharaoh’s favor would last (and spoiler alert, it did not). No assurance that their great-grandchildren would even remember their names. Yet they packed their belongings, gathered their children, and walked straight into the unknown. They believed in something larger than their immediate comfort.
This is where those seventy girls on my flight fit into the biblical narrative. Like Jacob’s descendants, they were answering a call that transcends logic. Sure, they were headed to seminary for intensive Torah study. But scratch beneath the surface, and you’ll find something deeper: an inexplicable pull toward the land that has been calling to Jewish souls for millennia.
The Hebrew word for Egypt, Mitzrayim, comes from the root tzar, meaning narrow or constricted. Jacob’s family was leaving their constraints, geographical, spiritual, and psychological to step into expansion. Those teenage girls were doing the same thing. They were leaving the narrow confines of what they knew. They were ready to discover who they could become in the place where their ancestors first learned to dream big.
But here’s where the story gets really interesting. The Torah doesn’t just tell us that seventy people went to Egypt; it tells us they became the foundation of Am Yisrael, the people of Israel. Their willingness to embrace the unknown became the bedrock of Jewish identity. Every Passover, we retell this story, reminding ourselves that our entire existence as a people began with seventy individuals who chose courage over comfort.
Those girls on the plane were unconsciously reenacting this ancient drama. They are living proof that certain journeys are encoded in our souls, calling us forward even when we can’t fully articulate why.
The biblical clarion call is clear: transformation requires movement, and movement requires faith. Jacob’s seventy descendants couldn’t have imagined that their decision to join Joseph would eventually lead to slavery, exodus, and the receiving of the Torah at Mount Sinai. They simply trusted that stepping into the unknown was better than staying in the familiar.
Similarly, those young women climbing aboard that El Al flight have no way to foresee how their time in Israel will reshape their understanding of themselves and their place in Jewish history. Truthfully – in their naivety – they barely know what “tomorrow” will bring. They just knew they needed to go. Some will return with Hebrew flowing from their tongues. Others with hearts forever tethered to Jerusalem’s ancient stones. Still others with a deeper understanding of Torah that could only come from studying in the land where it was given.
The beauty of this biblical blueprint is that it doesn’t require perfection or complete understanding. It only requires the courage to begin. Jacob’s family didn’t have a detailed map of their future. They had a son who said, “Come.” Those seventy girls didn’t have guarantees about what they’d discover in their year of seminary study. They have an ancestral command saying, “This matters.”
As our plane descended into Ben Gurion Airport and I watched those young faces pressed against windows, gazing at the coastline of their homeland, I realized I was witnessing something remarkable. Not just a homecoming, but a continuation of the story that began when seventy souls chose expansion over limitation. They chose possibility over security, and destiny over comfort.
Today, our world feels fractured and uncertain. Yet, there’s something deeply reassuring about watching the next generation answer this call – over and over again. This is the same call that has been echoing through Jewish hearts for thousands of years. They may not know it yet, but they’re not just seminary students, they’re the latest chapter in a story that began with seventy people who dared to believe.
