Rest in Peace, Jacob

The Torah portion for this coming Shabbat is Vayechi, which is Genesis 47:28 – 50:26. It includes a beautiful deathbed scene, one that any of us could only hope for, as Jacob lay dying. He met first with Joseph, from whom he extracted a solemn promise that Jacob would not be buried in Egypt but would be brought back to Israel and buried with his ancestors. How significant this must have been for Jacob! He exclaimed that not only did he never think he would see Joseph’s face again (having been deceived for many years by the story of Joseph’s having been killed by wild animals), but he even was able to see and hold Joseph’s two sons, his grandsons.

Jacob then called for the rest of his children, who surrounded him, whereupon he had the luxury of being able to take the time to speak with each one individually, making known his deepest values and his wishes for the future. The fact that his blessing of most of his sons comes across more like curses merely serves to emphasize that he felt free to speak his mind up until the very end. He then addressed the assembled group of brothers, telling them all, “I am about to be gathered to my kin” and once again making clear his powerful desire to be buried with his family members in the Cave of Machpelah. Genesis 49:33 – 50:1 reads: “When Jacob finished his instructions to his sons, he drew his feet into the bed and, breathing his last, he was gathered to his people. Joseph flung himself upon his father’s face and wept over him and kissed him.” Family scenes in the Torah don’t get more poignant than this.

We then are treated to one of the many contradictory stories with which the Torah is rife. In Genesis 50:13, after securing the Pharaoh’s permission, the sons of Jacob carry him to the Cave of Machpelah and bury him with his ancestors. They then return to Egypt. But later on, in Exodus 13:19, which takes place 400 years later, we see that Moses made a point of having Jacob’s bones carried back to the Promised Land when they left Egypt so that he could be buried with his ancestors. Each burial story is sweet and highly meaningful, but they cannot both be true.

I would like to focus on some of what Jacob said to his sons and grandsons looking back from the vantage point of roughly 750 years later (if we compare estimates of the year in which Jacob died, around 1751 BCE, with when King David established his capital city in Jerusalem, around 1000 BCE). Before Jacob called in the rest of his sons, when he was with Joseph and Joseph’s sons alone, Joseph placed the little ones on Jacob’s lap, Manasseh by Jacob’s right hand and Ephraim by Jacob’s left hand, so that the more favorable blessing could be given to Manasseh as the older of the two. But Jacob crossed his arms and blessed Ephraim with his right hand, signifying a superior position although Ephraim was younger. And then when all of the sons had gathered around him, Jacob vested a bright future in Judah, his fourth-born son, dismissing the three older sons while predicting that Judah would be the father of kings.

Many years ago, I read that the chroniclers of King David were the first to gather the old ancestral stories together – what would become our Torah later on, in the time of Ezra. King David was the seventh son, so the theory was that younger sons prevailed in earlier Biblical tales (think of Isaac over Ishmael, Jacob over Esau, and now Ephraim over Manasseh; later, Moses himself is the youngest of three children) to lend support to the fact that it was David, seventh son of Jesse, who was the one chosen to be king. As for preference being given to Judah, David was indeed from the Tribe of Judah, as of course were the rest of the kings of the Davidic dynasty who succeeded him. So some of these stories of Jacob and our other ancestors might have been edited so as to foreshadow King David.

The vivid mental image that I have of Jacob on his deathbed, surrounded by his sons and the two grandsons, has an intensely personal meaning for me. When my own father lay dying, he called us in one by one to give us his blessing. What a patriarchal figure he was, so generous toward all those who took care of him, how patient with his suffering, and how profound that his primary concern as he was approaching his final hours was for my mother. My son was there, my father’s oldest grandchild, and he too was called in for a special private blessing.

May my beloved father rest in peace with his ancestor Jacob.