Vayechi: Death, Blessings, and Life Choices

 

Vayechi – Death, Blessings, and Life Choices

If one were to boil this week’s parsha down to its most basic elements, Parshas Vayechi would be said to be about death and blessings, blessings that all focus on “this will be you when I am gone.” Death and blessings sound like a strange combination of themes as we tend to think of death as the ultimate negative, and even more so when we remember that the name of the parsha translates to “And he lived.”

 

He lived. Yaakov lived. For 17 years Yaakov lived in a land not his own, and, in many ways, he flourished. It was not, one would assume, his ideal life. He was not where he wanted to be as he understood the kedusha of Eretz Yisrael, but it was where Hashem told him that He wanted him to be. It is a sharp contrast to the commentaries surrounding the beginning sentiment of “Vayeishev,” “and he dwelled,” where Yaakov is criticized in the Midrash for settling into complacency.

 

Because Yaakov lived his life in the best way he could for being in a less then ideal state (an ability he had proven already during his sojourn with Lavan), his last years had a tremendous impact. The Torah describes the funeral procession set for him by Paroah and the fact that there was a period of national mourning throughout Egypt. Some of this was a reflection of the nation’s feelings for Yosef, but a reaction so grand only occurs from respect, nay – reverence, for the deceased himself.

 

Yaakov’s choosing to LIVE those 17 years, rather than just accept his altered state, gave him the kochos, the spiritual strength, to end his life in a way that carried his life forward. He focused his ability to see the world on a spiritual plane to provide guidance and shine light on the deeper journey ahead for each of his sons and, thus, strengthening them. Yes, even the blessings that were tochacha were the means of shoring them up against the challenges that were to come. Yaakov on his deathbed focused not on his own end but on the future that was to come.

 

Today is Aseres B’Teves. It is the shortest fast day on the calendar, but it is also noted as the most significant of the minor fasts of mourning the destruction of Jerusalem. Today represents the beginning of the end of what had been an idyllic time when the first Beis Hamikdash was the heart of our nation. We fast to mourn our loss and to spur on teshuva so that we can return, so that Hashem will redeem us. But as this year it overlaps with Vayechi, perhaps we must recognize a different lesson in our mourning.

 

Like Yaakov Avinu, we are not living in our ideal world, we are separated from the greater spirituality, but that is not a reason to live any less. That is not a reason to become complacent, but rather it is a reason to bring that ideal world as close to where we dwell as possible. And this does not apply only to one’s physical location. Yaakov did not live an easy life. From sibling rivalry to in-law troubles, from Rachel’s dying to Yoseph’s disappearance, from trouble with Shechem to famine in Canaan… But he did not let that stop him from living. Often times life takes a hard turn, but it is our job to persevere.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Parshas Vayechi: Go Gad! Go Asher

Dedicated to those who are putting their lives on the line for the security of our people.

In the pursuit of Torah study, the dynamic partnership of Zevulen and Yissachar is one of the most popular topics for discussion. Zevulen, who is represented in Yaakov’s blessings as a ship and a port; it is a distinct reference to commerce. Zevulen’s business acumen partners with Yissacher, who is hailed as a tribe of learning. Zevulen’s wealth supports Yissacher’s learning, and, in return, Yissacher shares the merit of the learning with Zevulen.

The Yissacher-Zevulen dynamic is beautiful, especially for the fact that it continues until this day with a multitude of working men and women giving money to support those who spend their days studying the Torah. It is, for many, the best way they are able to contribute.

The men and boys who spend their days learning Torah are providing a tremendous defensive force for out nation. Over the last three months, however, we have had to look toward a different type of defense, a physical defense. We are, one might say, in an age of Gad.

In this week’s parsha, when Yaakov blesses his sons, his blessings are both definitions of character and prophecies of how each nation will develop, of what their defining characteristics will be. “Gad, a troop will troop forth from him, and it will troop back in its tracks” (Bereishis 49:19).

The commentaries note that the tribe of Gad, which was one of the two tribes who asked to settle on the east side of the Jordan, was designated as the soldiers who led the conquest of the Promised Land, putting themselves forward as a vanguard troop. And, because their homes were on the far side of the Jordan, they were also the rear guard who swept through the conquered territory and made certain to rid the land of any further enemies. We are in an age of Gad.

For almost three months, we have been dependent of troops to provide protection on a physical level (while still, of course, relying on the spiritual impact of those who shield us with Torah study). For many of us in the diaspora, it has been a desperate and frustrating time. There is a great urge to help, to provide, to do, and yet, beyond prayer, it is difficult to feel as if one can give any effectual support.

The Daas Zkaynim has a very interesting commentary on the bracha of Gad. He suggests that Gad, like Yissachar, had a partner. Bereishis 49:20 states, “From Asher will come rich food, and he will yield regal delicacies.” And thus the Daas Zkaynim says:

“‘Troops will be called up from Gad;’ if you were to question how this tribe would secure its livelihood, seeing its men of military age will be conscripted as soldiers? The tribe would obviously have to be blessed with independent wealth in order to succeed. This is why in the next verse we hear about the fertile fields of the tribe of Asher, which would supply also the needs of the neighbouring tribe of Gad. The soldiers’ physical needs would be supplied by that tribe, i.e. he would supply the King’s needs, the King having to pay the soldiers” (translated on Sefaria).

This is chizuk. This is what we have seen across our great nation. Thousands of men and women who have joined the tribe of Asher, who have raised funds and sent supplies and cooked feasts for those who have marched out to fight.

The world right now seems chaotic and confused. Certainly, it feels as if its moral compass has disintegrated. And yet here we stand, Am Yisrael, with each of us filling the roles necessary to keep our people strong.

May we see a resolution to this situation in our favor, and may Moshiach come soon in the right time. Shabbat Shalom

Whose Children Are They?

 There is a famous story about Breuria, the wife of Rabbi Meir, and how she told her husband that their sons had died of a plague. Having waited for Shabbat to end, she asked him a shaila (question) about a man who had asked her to hold on to two precious items and whether she was required to return them when the man asked for them back. She then showed him his sons. When he started crying, she said: “The Lord gave, the Lord took.” There is a poignant message here: Like everything in our lives and in the world, nothing is ours; It is all Hashem’s. But this story also evokes an emotional reaction. It creates a desire to grab one’s children and hold them tight because we don’t like to think of our children as anything but ours.

Thinking of a parent’s natural sense of ownership of their children offers us, perhaps, a new perspective on the narrative of Yaakov and Yosef in Bereishis 48. Yoseph comes to Yaakov’s sickbed, and Yaakov tells his son about the bracha he received from Hashem. Yaakov then tells Yoseph that the two sons that were born to him in Egypt, Ephraim and Manashe, “shall be mine like Reuvain and Shimon” (Bereishis 48:5). Obviously. this does not mean that Yaakov wished to raise Yoseph’s sons, especially as they were already grown. He was, nevertheless, laying claim to them.

As Yoseph makes no response, and Yaakov continues on to speak of the death and burial of Rachel, we have no basis to consider Yoseph’s reaction to this. Most of us, indeed, assume that Yoseph simply accepted his father’s words.

But maybe Yoseph’s response was not so simple. It is interesting to note the dialogue that follows shortly after Yaakov’s speech, when Ephraim and Menashe enter. Yaakov asks, “Who are these?” Yoseph responds, “They are my sons, who G-d gave me here” (48:8-9).

It is a weird juxtaposition. Is it repetitious or conflicting? If Yaakov and Yoseph were just talking about Ephraim and Menashe, why didn’t Yaakov recognize them?

Perhaps by his questioning their identity, Yaakov was testing Yoseph. Perhaps he wanted to gauge whether Yoseph had truly understood what he had just said, to see if Yoseph can accept Ephraim and Menashe’s change in status. And Yoseph’s response is that of a parent: These are mine.

Yaakov never again, in the parsha, refers to them as his. He refers to them only as Yoseph’s. He brings them close and gives them a special bracha. He saw how great the filial bond was and, as a father who had lost his son for so many years, did not need to restate what was already a fact.

After he gave them the bracha, however, Yaakov (as Yisrael) said to Yoseph, "Behold, I am going to die, and God will be with you, and He will return you to the land of your forefathers. And I have given you one portion over your brothers…” (48:22). Yaakov has completed the mission he set out on at the beginning of the conversation, but he has done it more subtly. Ephraim and Menashe have received a blessing equal to that of Yaakov’s sons while Yoseph has not felt displaced.

It is easy to think of Ephraim and Menashe as “minor characters,” meaning they are similar to the majority of the 12 shvatim in that we learn very little of them as individuals. (This is in contrast to certain shvatim like Yehuda or Reuvain.) But why, one wonders, was their elevation in status so important to Yaakov?

The answer might be in Bereishis 48:7, “As for me, when I came from Padan, Rachel died to me in the land of Canaan on the way, when there was still a stretch of land to come to Ephrath, and I buried her there on the way to Ephrath, which is Bethlehem.” Yaakov says this just before he asks who Ephraim and Menashe are. It seems out of place coming after Yaakov’s telling Yoseph that his sons shall be as if Yaakov’s sons. However, we know that there is great significance placed on the number of children of each of Yaakov’s wives. By splitting Yoseph into Ephraim and Menashe, the descendants of Rachel now have three allotments, an increase over the two of Bilha and the two of Zilpa.

In “taking” Yoseph’s sons, Yaakov has strengthened him for the future.

Bereishis 48 is a perek that seems straightforward, and yet it is full of subtle shifts and important nuances. One of the intriguing aspects of Sefer Bereishis is that it is the history of a family, and it is anything but a simple and smooth history. One could state that the term family has many definitions, many layers. One of those, of course, is that family is the people to whom one shall always belong.

Yoseph and Yaakov (Vayechi #3)

 In Jewish tradition, the age of 70 is considered to be “the age of wisdom,” the age at which one deserves to be treated with extra honor for having had so many years to learn and to grow (spiritually). In Jewish tradition there is also a mitzvah to give honor to our elders, to those who have attained the age of wisdom, as it says: “You shall rise before a venerable person and you shall respect the elderly, and you shall fear your God. I am the Lord” (Vayikra 19:32). This is not our parsha this week, but the fulfillment of this mitzvah - along with the mitzvah of Kibbud Av, honoring one’s father - is beautifully displayed by the actions and speech of Yoseph in Parshas Vayichi.

At the beginning of the parsha, the Torah informs us that Yaakov was “147 years old. And the days of Israel’s death drew near…” (47:28) – He was twice 70 and then some, but this was in an era when average lifespans were far longer than in our own epoch. Shortly thereafter, Yoseph is told that his father had grown ill, and Yoseph immediately goes to see him, making certain to bring his two sons along. Remember that at this time Yoseph was still the Viceroy of Egypt. While the harsh famine years that had brought Yaakov and his sons to Mitzrayim were now over, Yoseph was now responsible for administrating the nationalized municipality that he had created by making almost all of Egypt into one vast landholding. Busy as he was, when Yoseph heard that his father was ill, he came immediately.

What follows next is a strange sequence of verses, perhaps meant to be subtly indicative of Yaakov’s age and a wandering mind. Yaakov tells Yoseph about the Divine blessing he received and declares that he wishes Ephraim and Menashe, Yoseph’s sons, to be tribes equal to Reuven and Shimon (48:5). Three verses later, in 48:8, it is written: “And Israel saw the sons of Yoseph, and said ‘Who are these?” It is a strange question since he was just discussing these very people. Most significantly, Yoseph does not react as if his father might have a wandering mind, but replies with a straight and direct answer.

Bereishis 48 on the whole is strikingly human; it is incredibly real in its emotional sub-text. This is especially true of the fascinating verses that describe Yaakov very carefully, very specifically, placing his hands on the boys’ heads and Yoseph’s reaction. “Yoseph saw that his father had his right hand on the head of Ephraim [the younger], and it seemed wrong to him, and he supported his father’s hand to remove it from Ephraim’s head onto Menashe’s head. And Yoseph said to his father, ‘Not so, my father, for this one is the first born, lay your right-hand upon his head. ‘” (48:17-18).

Avi, “my father,” is one small world that completely changes the tone of this verse. It adds compassion. It adds respect. It adds relationship. And so we learn how even as Yoseph corrected his father, he did so with love and with respect. (And is immediately informed by Yaakov that he knows precisely what he is doing.)

In the 21st century, attaining the age of 70 is blessedly common as modern medicine has allowed us to increase our average lifespan. At the same time, we live in an age when we often reside far apart from our families, and our lifestyles are often defined by how busy we are. Here, however, we are powerfully reminded to slow down and treat our beloved seniors with dignity, with patience, and with respect.

The Reason for Reassurance (Vayechi #2)

"And God will surely consider you again and bring you up from this land unto the land which He swore to Avraham, to Yitzchak, and to Yaakov” (Bereishis 20:24). Yoseph says this to his brothers from his death bed, and, as the not quite penultimate pasuk of Bereishis, it seems like a natural foreshadowing of what is to come - since we are all familiar with Sefer Shemos and the need for Divine rescue. But on its own within the narrative of Bereishis, it is actually a fairly odd statement. For the brothers and their families to need reassurance that God will remember them implies that they believed they had been forgotten - or at least deemed unimportant – in the Divine plan. How could this be when it had been so clearly pointed out that, even with Hashem’s reiterated promise of the Land of Canaan to their forefathers, everything had happened because God wanted Bnei Yisrael to sojourn in Egypt? Why are they afraid when, as far as the text has demonstrated, they are flourishing and living quite comfortably?

The fact is that life can be good and not good at the same time. One can live in a world of comfort and still be uncomfortable. They may have had physical prosperity, but, perhaps, by the time Yoseph passed away they were aware of the beginning of the spiritual challenges that would face them.

The sons of Yaakov not only saw how Yaakov devoted his life to God, but they lived that devotion with him. Additionally, they had had the opportunity to know their grandfather Yitzchak, so they were clear on the chain of this spiritual inheritance. Their children and some of their children's children also knew Yaakov, only not as intimately since his great spiritual strength was diminished while he mourned Yoseph for years. But what of their younger grandchildren and the children after that? What about the “little ones” left behind in Goshen when the sons of Yaakov went up to Canaan to bury their great father (50:8)? Not only were these little ones not able to meet their holy patriarch, but they never saw the Promised Land with their own eyes.

Bnei Yisrael came to Egypt to avoid the famine and to be reunited with Yoseph, but they also came to fulfill the prophecy of the Bris Bein HaBiturim that Avraham's children would reside and suffer in a land not their own (Bereishis 15). The suffering, however, began far earlier than most people realize. It began with the little ones left behind. Interestingly, according to the Malbim, the little ones were not left behind, but rather they were forced to stay as guarantees that Yoseph and his extended family would return. These children were, ever so slightly, less connected to the path of their forefathers.

This was in no way the fault of the brothers. They made all the right efforts. They settled themselves apart from the Egyptians in the land of Goshen. They maintained their flocks because they knew it was an unwelcome occupation to their neighbors. And, according to the midrash, Yehuda built a yeshiva in which they could study the ways of their forefathers. The brothers created community infrastructure to strengthen the generations to come. That they did so was, perhaps, the key to the strength of Bnei Yisrael that the sages teach us that Bnei Yisrael held on to their unique heritage even as the oppression grew strong during their enslavement and they managed to not cross over the 50th level of tumah.

In the last days of Yoseph, however, the generation that had seen and lived true spiritual greatness, saw the beginning of the descent, just ever so slightly, and they were concerned. Not anxious, not upset, not frighten, just, perhaps, a little concerned. This is a concern that speaks to us today.

When generations lived in strong, cohesive units, such as they did in the times of our forefathers, the differences between the generations were far less noticeable. Today we live in a time when we even name our generations, because not only the Jewish people, but the whole world, can see differences distinct enough between the Baby Boomers and the Millennials.  

Our people have spent thousands of years yearning for our children, for ourselves, to once again be able to live up to the caliber of our great ancestors, and so Yoseph’s deathbed promise to his brothers is a promise even unto this day – as Biblical language might say. For we here in the Western countries have been welcomed, have been accepted, have risen to positions of esteem, and have come to live in great comfort. And we have an infrastructure of strong communities and robust yeshivot. But we fight a constant spiritual battle against assimilation. However, if there is one thing that we can and should learn from the overarching story of Yoseph, it is that Hashem always has a plan, and Hashem will always remember His promise.

When Jacob Summoned His Strength (Vayechi #1)

This week completes the annual reading of Sefer Bereishis (the Book of Genesis). A great number of important events occur in these final chapters, all of which have profound and lasting impact on the Jewish people. In a quick summary, Vayechi contains the blessing of Ephraim and Menasheh, the gathering of the 12 sons at Jacob’s deathbed, the prophetic blessings of the 12 sons by their father, Jacob’s death, and Joseph’s fulfilment of his promise to bury his father in the Land of Canaan. 

All of these topics are fascinating, but let us look at the interesting introduction of the first blessings: “It was after these things that Joseph was told, ‘Your father is ill.’ So he took with him his two sons, Menasheh and Ephraim. When Jacob was told, ‘Your son Joseph has come to see you,’ Israel summoned his strength and sat up in bed” (48:1-2).

At first, this line strikes an emotional chord in me. Jacob is old, he is sick, and he knows he is dying, but when his son comes, he makes a great effort to pull himself together. Many commentaries, including Rashi, explain this action as respect for the high station that Joseph had achieved, second to the king. Other commentators pointed to it being a demonstration of the importance of what he was about to say. For instance, the Daas Zikanim stated: “He [Jacob] did not wish to bless his sons while bedridden, as he said that the blessing of a person clearly on the brink of dying would not be considered as having been given by someone in possession of all his faculties.”

Perhaps, however, it is also a hint to the deeper relationship of Jacob and Joseph. For Joseph, whose final years of youth he missed, Jacob still felt a need to appear strong. Or, perhaps, he worried most about how Joseph would react to seeing him old and feeble since he was aware of the great tragedies Joseph had suffered and how much his youthful relationship with his father had meant to him.

Kibbud Av v’Eim, honoring your father and mother is not only one of the ten commandments, but it is a mitzvah for which there is a great deal of explicit halachic conversations. It is a mitzvah for which Joseph is often greatly praised, and perhaps here we see the beautiful depth of their relationship.

About Genesis 48:1-2, Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch writes:

48:1 - Above, where Jacob wants something from Joseph, he has him called. Here, where he wishes to give something to Joseph...he simply has him told “your father is ill.” He is not to be called, he is to come as a child, in the feelings of a child when he hears that his aged father is ill, and at this opportunity Jacob gives him that which he has to apportion him. Jacob, even when he is giving the highest gift, does not make much of a parade of it.

48:2 - Joseph does not know how his father is and does not wish to excite him, so he has him told just casually that he is coming to visit him, and only then has him told that he is there.  

In many ways, Genesis is a strange narrative of the beginning of the Jewish people. The relationships within are anything but simple and are often far from ideal. Jacob is in no way painted as the perfect father, particular in his actions favoring one child over the others. These two verses, however, teach a subtle but beautiful lesson about how wonderful a mature parent-child relationship can be.

There is, however, something else about these verses that grabbed my attention, particularly the second verse: “When Jacob was told, ‘Your son Joseph has come to see you,’ Israel summoned his strength and sat up in bed” (48:2).  Another way of looking at these verses is that Jacob the father was told that his son had arrived, but Israel - the force of the Jewish nation - knew that now was the time to pass on the strength and vigor of the children of Abraham.  This is why, in the middle of one verse, the name changes from Jacob to Israel. The sickly body of Jacob is invigorated by the soul of Israel to make certain that the holy covenant is passed down properly to the next generation.

Please Hashem, let me have the strength of character to have an ideal type of relationship with my children and that I can be a proper conduit of the beautiful blessings of my Jewish ancestors.