Rav Podolsky z"l
As we mature into adulthood, one of the major issues we all face is selecting a profession. "What do you want to be when you grow up?" I never cease to be astounded at the confusion most undergraduates experience in the face of this dilemma. After investing thousands of hours and tens of thousands of dollars, many young men and women are no closer to choosing their optimum profession than when they started out. All too often, constraints of time and age compel a practical decision, not necessarily to their satisfaction. The human necessity to "make a living" plagues each and every one of us. But the question is: Are we asking the right question?
"Yissachar is a strong-boned donkey; he rests between the boundaries. He saw tranquility that it was good, and the land that it was pleasant, yet he bent his shoulder to bear and he became an indentured laborer (Breishis 49:14-15)."
Yaakov, in his blessing to Yissachar, calls him a donkey? This type of epithet is usually reserved for unruly taxi drivers who, in their hurry to make a buck (or a shekel), dangerously cut off the competition! What did Yaakov mean?
Rashi: "A donkey is very strong-boned; [Yissachar] carried the burden of Torah like a strong donkey, upon which they load a heavy burden." Yissachar is symbolized by the donkey in his tireless efforts to plumb the depths of Torah.
Yissachar did not just use his "spare time" to learn. That was all he did. Yissachar dedicated his entire being to the assiduous study of Hashem's Torah.
So how did he live? After all, one must "make a living!"
Explains the Sforno: " 'And he became an indentured laborer' -- the masses, who labored for their physical livelihood, supported [Yissachar]." Yissachar had no need to work to earn a living. His brothers supported him.
More accurately, the tribe of Zevulun supported the tribe of Yissachar. This famous partnership allowed for the flourishing of Torah. Yissachar had no need to ever cease from his learning; his brother made sure of that.
But let us not think that Zevulun did it for nothing. Half of the merit of Yissachar's learning went to Zevulun. "Rejoice, O Zevulun, in your excursions [for commerce], and Yissachar in your tents [of Torah] (Devarim 33:18)." Yissachar's joy was Zevulun's joy.
Indeed, this is an explicit Halacha in the Shulchan Aruch: "One may make a condition with his friend that one will learn, and the other will provide him sustenance, and they will divide the reward (Rama, Yoreh Deyah 246:1)."
A Jew is either a Yissachar -- one who only learns -- or a Zevulun -- one who supports Torah financially, and learns as much as he can. The real question is: What do I want to be when I grow up? When asked what you do, the response should not be: Lawyer; Doctor; Plumber, etc. Rather, are you a Yissachar or a Zevulun? This should be our issue in our quest for an occupation.
Although the majority of Jews are Zevuluns, one should never invalidate the option of majoring in Yissacharism. In every generation there are people whose soul inspires them to seek Torah, only Torah. These form the backbone of our nation, without whom existence as we know it could not continue.
Still, without Zevulun, there would be no Yissachar. Thus, Zevulun precedes Yissachar in the above cited verse. "If there is no flour, there can be no Torah (Avos 3:17)."
At the same time, without the Torah of Yissachar, Zevulun's wealth is meaningless. "If there is no Torah, there is no flour (ibid. and Rabbeinu Yonah)." The two together are consummately complementary. "Two are better than one (Koheles 4:9)."
All that remains is to answer our original question: What will I be when I grow up -- a Yissachar, or a Zevulun? Both are essential; both indispensable.
"It is a tree of life to those who grasp it; and its supporters are joyful (Mishlei 3:18)."
