Vayechi—And he lived. Jacob lived. This is the last portion of the book of Genesis. This is about living (and dying) and legacy. How do we live? How do we dye and what blessings.
With apologies to Broadway, which once again seems to be shutting down due to the spread of COVID-19:
“May you be like Ruth and Esther.
May you be deserving of praise.”
Yet when Harnick and Bock, two of the great Broadway (and Jewish) piyutim, lyricists, they changed the traditional blessing for Friday nights. It is actually:
“May you be like Sarah Rebekah, Rachel and Leah,” for girls. And for boys it comes right out of today’s portion:
“May you be like Ephraim and Manesseh”
These are blessings. What we hope for our children, every Friday night as part of the traditional Shabbat table service.
“May you be like Ephraim and Manesseh.” Say what? Who?
Ephraim and Maneseh were Joseph’s children. Jacob’s grandchildren. And when Jacob was about to die, he called Joseph to his bedside and he blessed his grandsons sitting on his knee. “Ephraim and Mansseh shall be mine like Reuben and Simeon.” Essentially he adopted them. The grandfather adopted them. That could be a sermon for another year, but I will point out that this still happens today with lots of grandparents raising grandchildren as their own that they never expected to have to do. I am grateful for those grandparents who have stepped up to do that—whether it is because of parental illness, drug addiction, violence, imprisonment, military service or whatever. Grandparents who willingly take on this role of parent in their “golden years” are to be praised. There are organizations that can help support like “Grandparents as Parents.”
Back to our story today. Manasseh and Ephraim become two independent tribes with their own “standard” or “flag” and their own portion of land when the Israelites inherit the Land of Israel. That is one kind of legacy.
But in this blessing of Jacob to Joseph and Jospeh’s sons, he used these very words: “May G‑d make you like Ephraim and like Manasseh.'” These are the very words we still use today on Friday night.
Children are indeed a blessing. Some say grandchildren even more so. Often people add because we can spoil them and then give them back to their parents—but that is also a sermon for another time.
Children are indeed a blessing. And our children didn’t know that recently. When we asked them how they are a blessing, they told us how to bless candles, and wine and challah. They know how to say the blessing of hearing the shofar or doing something new for the first time. But they had never thought that they themselves could be blessings. We stumped them.
Now I know that…if for no other reason then I learned it in Brownies. In the Brownie story. You remember…twist me and turn me and show me the elf…I looked in the mirror and saw myself.” There are multiple versions of this story but it begins with the father saying, “Children are a burden” because apparently his two children weren’t doing anything to help around the house. The mother or the grandmother answers, “Children are a blessing.”
So today I want to talk about blessings—and the legacy we leave behind—with our children and grandchildren. Some people, using Jacob in this portion as a model, actually write an ethical will which we have talked about before. But as we approach the secular new year, I encourage you to write one. There are models available here: https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/writing-and-reading-ethical-wills/ This is separate from your health care proxy and power of attorney or your will that disperses your property. Those are important too.
But really telling people what your values are and how you expect or hope people to live them out after you are gone is important.
Maybe even more important is telling them before you die.
What is a blessing? How are each of you a blessing? Because, make no mistake…each of you is a blessing. To this congregation—to your families, to the wider community, to this very congregation, to the world at large and to me personally. We did this a few weeks ago. I want each of you to say one blessing to one other person. That way each of you will have a turn to say a blessing and each of you will know that you are a blessing. Really know it, in your kishkes.
So that is precisely what we did. Every person received a blessing and gave a blessing. It was poignant, joyful, beautiful and at times even funny. At the very end of services, one person blessed me (not part of the plan) but worthy of me putting here, in case I forget. “Rabbi, we bless you with our respect and love for what a magnificent spiritual leader – and human being – you are. Your knowledge, guidance, passion, and care for all, both inside CKI and outside in our community, are beyond outstanding. We appreciate you SO very much! We all are blessed to have you as our rabbi.”
This portion and this process brings me hope. As we leave our imperfect matriarchs and patriarchs for another year, we can move forward assured of our blessing and our legacy. Hope is our way forward, even in what is becoming a difficult end of the secular year.
Another rabbi picked up a similar idea to mine. Rabbi Michael Dolgrin in Toronto put it:
“ Jacob says that this is how we shall bless our descendants. Perhaps this means that we must be open and thoughtful about the blessings that we offer, that we cannot always control our situations. Still, despite all of this, we must have the courage to go forward and offer blessing. We must hope that those whom we have lost are not entirely gone; that family can surprise us in good ways. We must hope that blessings are available even when we are sure that the window for holiness and goodness has closed. We must hope that we can see the generations after us, whether they be our genetic descendants or not, acting on the ideals and values that we hold dear. We must hope that even when we and those we love make mistakes, they can still lead to sweet or bittersweet possibilities.”
We end the reading of a book of Torah with this blessing: Chazak, chazak v’ntichazek. Be strong, be strong and be strengthened. This morning’s exercise has strengthened us all. It enables us to enter the next book, Exodus, and the next year, stronger, as individuals and as a community. Vayechi—And we lived. And we blessed. This is our legacy.