Vayechi

and he lived…

Manasseh and Ephraim, Ephraim and Manasseh…

On Friday nights, after the Shabbat kiddush, parents bless their children. They place their hands on their daughters’ heads and say, “May you be like Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, and Leah.” They place their hand on their sons’ heads and say, “May you be like Ephraim and Manasseh.”

So, we bless girls that they should be like our matriarchs, but we don’t wish our boys to be like our patriarchs. Instead, we want them to be like Joseph’s sons. Let’s explore.

Our matriarchs were deeply connected to the mystical realms, initiates in the secrets of the universe. Our patriarchs struggled with their relationships with God (they had to work harder to “get there”) and with each other. The tension between brothers was palpable from the beginning of creation. Consider Cain and Abel, Abraham and his pagan brothers, Ishmael and Isaac, Jacob and Esau.

But there was none of that strife between the sons of Joseph. When their grandfather Jacob adopted them as his own on his deathbed, each of them becoming a tribal head, Joseph presented his sons to his father with the older one first, as was traditional. But Jacob switched his hands, giving the blessing of the firstborn to the younger of the two. And there was not a peep out of either youth. They intrinsically understood the different roles that each of them was to play in the destiny of the Jewish people. There was no sense of conflict and competition between them.

Why? What was different for them? And what’s the big deal about being the firstborn and receiving that blessing?

Being firstborn was about more than status. It was about inheritance. When a father’s holdings were divided among his sons, the firstborn received a double share. With more to work with at the get-go, the firstborn was more likely to become a financially successful man than his brothers were.

Then there’s the matter of the covenant. That also should by rights go to the firstborn. But the promise that God made to Abraham was ultimately to be passed to his second son, to Isaac. It took some doing, but the covenant was then passed to Isaac’s second son, Jacob.

For the sons of Jacob, it was another story. While the financial benefit of being firstborn was still there, the issue of receiving the covenant wasn’t. Each of them was to be the head of one of the twelve tribes. The covenant passed to all of them.

But here’s the thing: More than the struggle for power was the struggle for love. Each of these fathers had a favorite among their children and made no effort to hide it. And more than anything, what children need in order to grow up sound and secure is to know that they’re loved. They should never have to compete for their parents’ love.                                                                                                                       

The majority of Jacob’s grandsons grew up in the midst of that environment. But Joseph’s sons were isolated in Egypt, living among pagans. All they had was each other. No uncles. No cousins. No drama. They knew nothing of the competition and deceitfulness. Joseph had been removed from his brothers when he was still a youth. His boys grew up in an insular environment with a politically powerful father, and they were exposed only to the lessons and values taught to them by their parents. Their parents loved them equally and they flourished. They had nothing to compete over. They had every advantage that their father’s position afforded them and struggled for nothing. They valued each other and their relationship over power and wealth.

This is the sort of person that we want our sons to be and so this is why they’re given that blessing.

So, what shall we eat?

menu coming soon…