Vayechi—Jacob’s Life; or: The End of the Beginning
D’var Torah for Parashat Vayechi
By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman
With this week’s parashah the first book of the Torah, Genesis, comes to a noble conclusion. It started with Creation; it ends with the death of Jacob. But while this is an ending, it is also a new beginning. The reconciliation between Joseph and his brothers and the reunification of Jacob’s family brings the First Family of Israel to a new level. They are ready to begin a new chapter, a new book. A new people.
D’var Torah for Parashat Vayechi
By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman
With this week’s parashah the first book of the Torah, Genesis, comes to a noble conclusion. It started with Creation; it ends with the death of Jacob. But while this is an ending, it is also a new beginning. The reconciliation between Joseph and his brothers and the reunification of Jacob’s family brings the First Family of Israel to a new level. They are ready to begin a new chapter, a new book. A new people.
Vayechi, (“Jacob lived,” Gen. 47:28-50:26) makes many connections between Jacob’s life and that of his forebears —Abraham and Sarah, Rebecca and Isaac. More than at any other time in his life, Jacob is in perfect spiritual alignment with them. Even the title reminds us of another, earlier parashah—Chayei Sarah, “Sarah’s Life.” It too begins with a death (Sarah’s) but then goes on to tell the story of the life of her progeny. Vayechi is the story of Jacob’s death; but more than that, it signifies also the beginning of the rest of Israel’s life.
For now, there is no more fleeing, conniving or fearing. Jacob has done all of that; he is done with it. His dying request of Joseph is to be buried in the Cave of Machpelah, the very one—he practically gives the address along with the zip code, just to make sure Joseph gets it—where Abraham and Isaac are buried.
It is at this point, having concluded all his earthly arrangements, that Jacob transcends and becomes Israel. Throughout the time that he was known by both names, the name his parents gave him represented the meek individual he was, bound to be manipulated, tricked and threatened. The name given to him by God, however, is a higher self, a superego that he strives toward. As this portion comes to its conclusion, however, Jacob becomes Israel. On his deathbed (how distant from the rocky bed he slept on when he first left his parental home, so many years ago!), now surrounded by all his sons and grandsons, Jacob has a vision of the future. Up until now he had dreams. Now the dream can become a vision of things that surely will come to be: His children no more, B’nai Yisrael become the People of Israel.
What has happened that changes everything so extremely?
Nothing and everything. At these last moments of his life, about to die, Jacob takes an account of the life he had lived. He measures himself up against the ideals he now understands his ancestors had held. With words, images and actions Jacob recalls scenes from his past. He understands the oath Abraham had exacted from his servant when Abraham sent the servant to look for a wife for Isaac. Jacob realizes that the blessing he thought he had won from Isaac by cheating and conniving—had come to him through an act of choice, not trickery: It was Isaac’s choice. Isaac may have been blind; but he wasn’t deaf. He knew then, just as surely as Jacob knows now as he crosses his hands over the heads of Joseph’s two children, Ephraim and Menashe, so as to bless them as he sees fit, not as Joseph sees it. Jacob takes his place next to Abraham and Isaac. And then he dies.
With barely a pause, his story also told, it now becomes Joseph’s turn to move on, to give way to the next chapter. He has done his part and played his role to the hilt. He has saved Egypt from famine; and along with Egypt, he has rescued from starvation peoples from the rest of the drought-stricken Near East. He has saved his own family and set them up for a long and fruitful stay in the Land of Goshen. It’s time.
History does not end with success. Like a wheel, what comes up must come down. The people of Egypt have become enslaved through the fees they had to pay Joseph for feeding them. Discontent is bound to set in. Jealousy at the successful Israelites, who seem only to have thrived during these many difficult years, is bound to turn to virulent hatred. A nervous future Pharaoh—fearful of an uprising by his own people no less than he is terrified by the idea of a rebellion by the many slaves his tyrannical regime keeps downtrodden—will look for a scapegoat to blame for the situation. This new Pharaoh will have forgotten Joseph’s past service, how he had not only saved Egypt but also elevated it to become the center of the ancient world. This new pharaoh…
But that’s another story already. For now, it is Joseph’s time to die, to become a memory of things past. In his last words to his people, he begs them to remember him, to hold the promise of forgiveness and grace he had held out to them. It is a tender moment when Joseph yields control of his fate completely and wholly over to God. This has been his journey too: From the self-centered youth he so enjoyed being, through the years of jealousy and hatred, the quick rise to success, to the unexpected encounter with his past. Throughout this journey, more and more he has learned to see God’s hand guiding him. Now he knows with calm certainty. That is what he wants his descendants to remember: To see the unseen hand, to feel against your back the silent ruach, the spirit that still hovers over the dark depths, guiding the sails of all Creation forward to an unknown but oh!-so-Promised Land.
Chazak chazak v’nit-cha-zek: Be strong, be strong and together we shall all be strengthened.
©2010 by Boaz D. Heilman
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