Jacob blessing the sons of Joseph, Rembrandt van Rijn, 1656
It is said that beginnings are never easy, but neither, of course, are endings; especially when the ending is of something really important, like a life. None of us today are educated in this aspect of our existence, only in the early years, as if they are all that really matters and what comes after them is of scant significance; and this is a sad omission. We must never forget that a life that has been lived is something precious; it has accumulated knowledge, experience and wisdom, and when the possessor of all this wealth breathes their last it should not die with them, but should be passed on to succeeding generations.
Rarely do our contemporaries do what was commonplace in biblical times, and step back, near their end, from their contemplation of eternity to review their life in this world, so that they may leave something of value for those who will survive in it after they are gone. Yet there is a vast corpus of Jewish literature called Ethical Wills, in which Jews from the distant past to the present have set out their ideas and experiences, their successes and failures, and what they have learned for the benefit of those they loved. In this final and precious form of farewell they have brought their dear ones very close to themselves, to each other, and to God, creating a powerful and unbreakable bond that even death cannot shatter.
Arguably the most significant part of Vayechi is Jacob’s blessing of his twelve sons, the twenty seven verses of which comprise the patriarch’s benediction on the progenitors of the Twelve Tribes, and which are among the most linguistically complex and poetically beautiful in the entire Torah.
Jacob is about to expire, so he summons his remaining strength, gathers his sons, and delivers blessings for each of them. Many of these ‘blessings’ sound more like character analyses of the twelve men, and of some of them Jacob is highly critical.
Reuben is derided as unstable as water; Shimon and Levi are dismissed as mindlessly violent, Dan is likened to a snake, Issachar to an ass, and Benjamin to a ravening wolf. Only two of the sons receive a lengthy blessing, Judah and Joseph; the former, probably, because he was deemed to be the forebear of King David and the davidic Messiah, and the latter because he was Jacob’s favourite child.
Exercising our critical faculties we can see these blessings as a very stylised version of an end of life blessing, written with the benefit of historical hindsight.
The description of Benjamin as a ‘ravening wolf’ is only comprehensible when one knows of a vile act perpetrated by his tribe in the time of the Judges which caused the lengthy ostracism of the Benjaminites and their anathemisation. (Judges 19,20) The verses which call Dan a Judge and liken him to a snake ambushing a horse and rider on the road may only be fully understood when one remembers that Samson, the judge and scourge of the Philistines, was a Danite.
However, Reuben did have sexual intercourse with one of his father’s concubines, an act calculated to wound and humiliate, and which resulted in him being deprived of his birthright as the first-born son – all of which is mentioned in his blessing. Shimon and Levi did initiate a massacre in Shechem which was awful in both its execution and treachery, and which brought Jacob shame and caused him to fear for his life. And the blessing of Joseph, which, by a hair, is the most linguistically complex of them all is explained by the rabbis – with plausible ingenuity – as describing some of the events that happened to him during his twenty year sojourn in Egypt.
Ultimately, though, it doesn’t really matter very much what the origins of Genesis 49 are, where it was written, when, who by, and for whom, for it is a beautiful section with some wonderful, poetic images in it.
Vayechi is also notable for another blessing that it contains, a blessing which in its form and content is much more worthy of the term as we habitually understand it: it is the blessing that Jacob gave to his two grandsons by Joseph, Ephraim and Manasseh.
On paper, these young men were Egyptian not Israelite, for their mother was Egyptian, the daughter of a senior sun-cult priest from On, or Heliopolis, as it was called by the Greeks. This must be the reason why the rabbis go to great lengths to explain how, although the two grew up in the highest echelons of Egyptian society they did not assimilate and remained true to the faith and concepts that guided the lives of their father and grandfather.
The blessing that they receive from Jacob is superb, and this is what he said:(48:51ff)
The God before whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac walked, the God who has been my shepherd all my life long until this day, the angel who has redeemed me from all evil, bless these boys; and let my name be named in them, and the name of my fathers Abraham and Isaac; and let them grow into a multitude in the midst of the earth.
And he went even further, stating that in the future, when the people of Israel blessed their sons, the procedure would be for them to say
May God make you like Ephraim and Manasseh.
This could have been a mystical, even inspiring experience for these young men, bringing them closer to their father and grandfather, and the God who had sustained them through thick and thin. Thus did Jacob bless his children and grandchildren, and thus did he eloquently and effectively begin to move from this life to that of everlasting peace, with dignity, humility, and meaning.
Perhaps we can say that it is with the Patriarchs that the tradition of the power of a blessing begins (especially a blessing imparted near the end of life) a power that transcends the mere words themselves, however beautiful they may be. When God blessed Abraham, the blessing was a promise, a statement of intent, that his descendants would be innumerable and that they would possess a land flowing with milk and honey. When Abraham transmitted the blessing to Isaac, and Isaac to Jacob, and Jacob to his sons, they increased the power and significance of it because they infused it with all the extra feelings engendered by their long lives, especially by their trust in the sustaining power of their God.
When you consider what the blessing of their children did in the age of the Patriarchs, when you consider what similar blessings have meant to others down the millennia – the gift of a verbal legacy of wisdom to draw upon, to lean on, to find comfort and inspiration in – it is surely impossible to conclude other than that we should make a conscious effort to revive this practice in our own times.
Those of us who have been fortunate enough to have had such a blessing know what a timeless experience it is, and how fortifying it can be in times of distress. We can only encourage others to think seriously about it before the time for it has passed, to weigh what a powerful gift they can give to their children and grandchildren.
We are at the start of a New Year, twelve months of as yet unknown good and bad times, challenges and excitement, joy and sorrow; it is a testing moment, full of fear and anticipation, and we will need God’s blessing to get us through intact. So let us pray for the blessings of wisdom and strength, for patience and understanding, good fortune and good health, and above all for love – the love of family and friends – that they may be ours in the year that lies ahead.
Rabbi Dr Charles Middleburgh
The views expressed in this D’var Torah do not necessarily reflect the position of Leo Baeck College.