Table for Five: Vayechi

Denise Berger

Freelance writer

Any long-distance grandparent can relate to this moment. A man in his old age sees his young descendants and almost can’t believe who’s in front of him. So much time has passed, they might be strangers walking down the street, and yet there’s an intimate familiarity. A smile or even a tilt of the head bridges decades, so that the grandfather is seeing not only these children in front of him but also his own children so many years before. Time passes and stands still in the same instant. But this isn’t just a tender moment for Jacob Avinu, it’s also a moment of healing. He can sense the love between Joseph’s sons, the lack of animus. From the beginning of time, the Torah records how brothers have been at odds. Jealousy between Cain and Abel led to murder. Unresolved rivalry between Isaac and Ishmael continues to haunt us. And much of Jacob’s life was defined by this theme of feuding siblings, first by vying with Esau, and then his own sons setting out to destroy Joseph. The fact that these boys, who love each other without competition, were raised by the man whose brothers sold him as a slave, underscores how far they had come. Hashem puts us in the same situations over and over, until we can re-write the ending. When Yakov Jacob later blesses them (us) to be like Ephraim and Manashe, it’s about rewriting endings as much as it’s about getting along.

Rabbi Elazar Bergman 

Author of the forthcoming “The Daven Better Handbook“

Hmm. Where have I heard this story before? A blind man approaching death wants to bless one of his children, gets tricked and ends up blessing a different one of his offspring. Ah, yes. Our Patriarch Isaac. He wants to bless Esau, but is deceived, by his nearest and dearest no less, and ends up blessing Jacob, aka Israel, instead. Our verse tells us that Israel sees Joseph’s sons. Yet two verses later, we are told that Israel is unable to see. Which is it? Can he see or not? The answer is that physically, he cannot, but spiritually, he can. When Joseph brings his sons to be blessed, our patriarch, Israel, is ready and willing to do so. By all outward appearances, they are fine, upstanding examples of what the Jewish people would become. Then, he prophetically saw that the two would produce eminently wicked descendants. So he hesitates to give his blessing. True, his son Joseph brought them, but it wouldn’t be the first time a son deceived his blind father. Years ago he had deceived his. Might not Hashem be righting the scales? We aren’t prophets (well, maybe you are), but sometimes we feel or are shown that something is not quite right. That something may be our past deceits. Heed the message. Do the necessary teshuvah. Give — and be — a blessing. Good Shabbos!

Rabbi Dr. Chaim Meyer Tureff  

Rav Beit Sefer at Pressman Academy and author of “Recovery in the Torah”

What a sad thing to hear from a parent about your children and their grandchildren, “Who are these?” According to Chizkuni, Yaacov Jacob had eyesight issues. Hence it was actually difficult for him to see who they were, whereas he recognized Joseph from his voice. According to one midrash, there was a more nefarious reason why Israel asked, “Who are these?” The midrash states, “our father Jacob foresaw that a descendant of Ephraim, Jeroboam ben Nebat the Ephraimite, would make two golden calves.” Hence Yaacov Jacob saw this awful premonition and was disturbed by the future actions of his offspring, consequently asking the question, “Who are these?” This is what happens many times in a family that’s struggling with children with addiction. They see their children or grandchildren and ask the similar question, “Who are these?” Their actions seem foreign to what they’re used to. They were fun and affable while growing up and now their actions are diametrically opposed to the morals, values, and life that the adult once knew with their child. They have not come to terms with “Who are these?” And sometimes these children are completely different people. Once the parent or grandparent seeks help for their children from trained professionals, they are able to see through the pain, suffering, and core issues that their child is struggling with. Hopefully they will be able to assist in the miraculous turnaround that will ultimately be able to answer the question and know who these are. 

Nicholas Losorelli 

Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies Class of 2025/5785 

Family is, well, complicated, and during this holiday season many of us have been flitting from one place to another, visiting family, friends, and/or chosen family. My family is a beautiful mix of ethnicities, nationalities, and religious traditions — Mexican Catholic, Mexican Jewish, Filipino, Hawaiian, Italian, African American and so much more — and at any family gathering it can be easy to get who’s who mixed up. “Whose kid is that?” “Whose cousin is that? Oh — does that make them my cousin?” The answer to that last question in my family is often, yes, we’re all cousins, it’s easier that way, because family isn’t nearly as simple as the almost mythical image of the nuclear American family that exists in the popular imagination, it’s often much more varied than that. 

At the end of his life, after much familial strife Jacob blesses his sons and meets Joseph’s sons — his grandchildren — Ephraim and Manashe, for the first and last time. He experiences this varied-ness, because they are half Israelite and Half Egyptian, and it could have been easy for the story to go in an unfortunate direction here, but Jacob blesses Ephraim and Manashe without hesitation. This is a moment of recognition that no matter how varied and different we are, whether it’s ohana, familia, famiglia, chosen family, or mishpacha, family is still family, and my family doesn’t have to look like yours, and yours doesn’t have to look like mine, but cousin, I hope we will always find moments to bless one another.