Yaakov Avinu was preparing for his final journey. As his life was coming to an end, he took the opportunity to speak to each of his sons, conveying to them personal and necessary messages and inspiration to guide them in the generations and millennia ahead. He began with his grandsons. He summoned Yosef, together with his sons, Menashe and Ephraim, and announced that these two grandsons will be counted amongst the tribes. And then, something peculiar occurred.

“And Joseph saw that his father was placing his right hand on Ephraim’s head, and it displeased him. So, he held up his father’s hand to remove it from upon Ephraim’s head [to place it] on Manasseh’s head. And Joseph said to his father, ‘Not so, Father, for this one is the firstborn; put your right hand on his head.’ But his father refused, and he said, ‘I know, my son, I know; he too will become a people, and he too will be great. But his younger brother will be greater than he, and his children’s fame will fill the nations.’ So, he blessed them on that day, saying, ‘With you, Israel will bless, saying, ‘May God make you like Ephraim and like Manasseh,” and he placed Ephraim before Manasseh.” (Genesis 48:17-20)

Yaakov gave dominance to the younger son, Ephraim over the older son, Menashe. Both sons would have great and righteous descendants, but Ephraim’s offspring would be greater than Menashe’s. This “change” was the byproduct of Yaakov’s prophetic vision but why declare that we should bless our children to be like Menashe and Ephraim? To this very day, when we bless our sons on Friday night, we use the exact verbiage mentioned above, “yi’simcha Elokim k’Ephraim u’k’Menashe.” Why? There are so many great men to chose from as role models for our sons. Why not bless our sons that they should be like Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov? Furthermore, we know very little about Menashe and Ephraim outside of this episode. What is the meaning of this sacred blessing we convey to our children every week?

Rav Tzvi Elimelech Shapira of Dinov (1785-1841) in his work, Igra D’Kallah, provides a beautiful insight. In that very moment when Yaakov switched his hands, he switched the familial hierarchy. In one moment, Menashe the firstborn was relegated to a “lower” position and Ephraim, the younger son was elevated to a more prominent one. One would have thought that this would cause strife and animosity between the brothers. One would have thought that Menashe would be resentful, and Ephraim would become arrogant. Yet, the brothers maintained a sense of love and respect for one another. Ephraim still maintained the proper reverence one has for an older sibling and Menashe was happy for the honor and greatness bestowed upon his younger brother. They respected and were truly happy for one another. When Yaakov saw this, he was overwhelmed. He had witnessed animosity between his own sons and viewed this as the inability for brothers to coexist and respect one another. And now as these two boys saw their respective destinies changed in a moment, they still loved and accepted one another. It was in this moment that Yaakov said, for all generations when parents comes to bless their sons, let them say, “yi’simcha Elokim k’Ephraim u’k’Menashe.”

Every parent has dreams and aspirations for their children. We want our children to be successful spiritually and materially. We want our children to be happy, content, well-adjusted and thrive. But there is one thing that every parent values more than anything – the ability for siblings to get along. This need to “get along” is not limited to our biological brothers and sisters, it applies to our national siblings, our Am Yisroel brothers and sisters as well. What is the secret to getting along with brothers and sisters? It is quite simple – be happy for the other if he succeeds, even if you don’t. Too often we are jealous and envious of the successes of the other. God gives us each what we need to grow and thrive. Someone else’s success could have never been mine. As such, one must find it in their heart to rejoice for the successes of the other. And if you are the successful one, never look down on your brother, love and respect him just the same. Having more success than someone else doesn’t make us better or superior. In order to convey this blessing to our children, we must first inculcate it within ourselves and then model it. May we bless and be blessed with the emotional strength of Ephraim and Menashe.

And Jacob concluded commanding his sons, and he drew his legs [up] into the bed, and expired and was brought in to his people (Genesis 49:33)

With his sons gathered around his bed to receive final blessings and instruction from their beloved father, Yaakov drew his last breath. With his death came the end of an era. The sun of the Patriarchs had set as the sun of the nation of Israel began to rise. But Yaakov was much more than a father; he was a unifying force in an often fractured family. In last week’s Parsha, Yehuda pleads with Yosef (who had not yet revealed his true identity) to release Binyamin and he says, “For how will I go up to my father if the boy is not with me? Let me not see the misery that will befall my father!” (Bereishis 44:34) It was the image of his suffering father that prevented Yosef from maintaining his detached façade and moved him to reveal his identity. Yosef proceeded to make a dramatic yet, puzzling statement, “’I am Joseph. Is my father still alive?’ But his brothers could not answer him because they were startled by his presence.” (Bereishis 45:3) Why did Yosef ask about his father? Just one verse earlier Yosef was moved by Yehuda’s description of Yaakov’s suffering. In fact, throughout the multiple conversations between Yosef and his brothers, Yosef always asks about the welfare of “their father.” Why during the moment of revelation did Yosef ask, “Is my father still alive?”

Rav Shmuel Borenstein (1856-1926), the Rebbe of Sochachov in his work titled, Shem M’Shmuel explains that Yosef was asking, Is my father’s spirit still alive? Does he still possess the Divine spirit within? Yosef was asking his brothers if his father was the same man he had known twenty-two years ago, or had he become someone different. Did he still possess the spirit of holiness or had it dissipated with time? Did the suffering and pain of the past 22 years break him or had he still retained his optimism and hope? Rav Meir Shapira of Lublin (1887-1933) explains that Yosef was posing the question to himself. He was asking, “Ha’od Avi Chai B’Kirbi, (does my father still live within me)?” Do I still feel that connection to my father?  Do I desire to have him in my life?  Do I still feel that love I once knew?

Yosef understood that traumatic life experiences change who we are. In truth , it is not just traumatic experiences; life changes us. As children we are loving, caring, trusting, optimistic and content. As we get older and experience failure, hurt, betrayal and setbacks we begin to replace these childlike qualities with sarcasm, cynicism and pessimism. In the moments after the revelation Yosef wonders to himself, can I become the person I once was? Can my father become the person he once was? So much has happened, so much has changed, Ha’od Avi Chai, does the father I knew still exist? Does the person I once was still exist? 

Amazingly, when Yosef asks the brothers this question, there is no reply. Because no one can answer this question for Yosef; Yosef must decide for himself. Yosef must decide if he will let twenty-two years of difficulty and pain define him or if he will choose to reclaim his former self. Yosef decides that he will be a loving benevolent brother who will work to repair his family. And he sends an important message to his father. He says, “Hasten and go up to my father, and say to him, ‘So said your son, Joseph: “God has made me a lord over all the Egyptians. Come down to me, do not tarry.” (Bereishis 45:9) The Hebrew phrase for “do not tarry” is “al taamod.” This can also be translated as, “do not stand in place.” Yosef was telling his father, I know that the spirit of God has not been upon you for the last twenty-two years, I know that you have not been “alive” during these last two decades when you thought I was dead, but it doesn’t have to continue like this. Don’t stand in place. If you want to change your attitude and disposition you have the ability to do so. I have done it and father, so can you.

In this week’s Parsha Yaakov says to Yosef, “… God, before Whom my fathers, Abraham and Isaac, walked, God Who sustained me as long as I am alive, until this day. May the angel who redeemed me from all harm bless the youths, and may they be called by my name and the name of my fathers, Abraham and Isaac, and may they multiply abundantly like fish, in the midst of the land.” (Bereishis 48:15-16) Yaakov answers Yosef’s question. “I kept my connection to my God. I felt Him by my side every step of the way. I never lost myself to my suffering no matter how difficult things became. There were years of mourning and feeling bereft, but I never lost my relationship and connection to my Father. But throughout my life even when I have lost hope and optimism, I made the conscious decision to reclaim it. Yes, my son, I am still alive. The beracha I give to your children is that they should feel the connection and providence of Hashem even in difficult, tumultuous and turbulent times.”

As Yaakov drew his last breath he looked at his children and realized that they had managed to heal the wounds, mend the rifts and repair the broken hearts.  They decided to reclaim the familial love they once had and to try to rebuild.

The era of the Patriarchs had ended, but their children continued to inspire. Yaakov and Yosef teach us one of our most important life lessons. We start out on the journey of life with hope, optimism and great dreams. But things happen. Trauma changes us, life changes us, and circumstances often unfold in ways we did not expect. As a result, we lose parts of ourselves that were so precious and necessary. But we have the power to reclaim all that is lost. Because at the end of the day, we decide the kind of people we are going to be. We decide the disposition and the life outlook we adopt and maintain. We decide the traits and dispositions which will define us. We possess the power to reclaim all we have lost.

“And Jacob concluded commanding his sons, and he drew his legs [up] into the bed, and expired and was brought in to his people.” (Genesis 49:33)

With his sons gathered around his bed to receive final blessings and instruction from their beloved father, Yaakov drew his last breath. With his death came the end of an era. The sun of the Patriarchs had set as the sun of the nation of Israel began to rise. But Yaakov was much more than a father; he was a unifying force in an often-fractured family. In last week’s Parsha, Yehuda pleads with Yosef (who had not yet revealed his true identity) to release Binyamin and he says, “For how will I go up to my father if the boy is not with me? Let me not see the misery that will befall my father (Bereishis 44:34)!” It was the image of his suffering father that prevented Yosef from maintaining his detached façade and moved him to reveal his identity. Yosef proceeded to make a dramatic yet, puzzling statement, “I am Joseph. Is my father still alive? But his brothers could not answer him because they were startled by his presence (Bereishis 45:3).” Why did Yosef ask about his father? Just one verse earlier Yosef was moved by Yaakov’s suffering. In fact, throughout the multiple conversations between Yosef and his brothers, Yosef always asks about the welfare of their father.  Why during the moment of revelation did Yosef ask, “Is my father still alive?”

The commentaries offer differing approaches. Some explain that Yosef was asking if Yaakov was healthy. Others explain that Yosef wasn’t sure if the brothers were telling the truth. Perhaps, they had conjured up the image of an elderly father to play off Yosef’s sympathies. Still others explain that Yosef was rebuking his brothers; “Is it possible that after all you have done to my father, he is still alive?!”

There are two more interpretations that provide a dramatically different understanding of Yosef’s question. Rav Shmuel Borenstein (1856-1926), the Rebbe of Sochachov in his work titled Shem M’Shmuel explains that Yosef was asking, “Is my father’s spirit still alive? Does he still possess the Divine spirit within?” Yosef was asking his brothers if his father was the same man he had known twenty-two years ago or had he become someone different. Did he still possess the spirit of holiness or had it dissipated with time? Rav Meir Shapira of Lublin (1887-1933) explains that Yosef was posing the question to himself. He was asking, “Ha’Od Avi Chai B’Kirbi, does my father still live within me?” Do I still feel that connection to my father? Do I desire to have him in my life? Do I still feel that love I once knew?

Yosef understood that traumatic life experiences change who we are. Truth be told, it is not just traumatic experiences – life changes us. As children we are loving, caring, trusting, optimistic and content. As we get older and experience failure, hurt, betrayal and setbacks we begin to replace these childlike qualities with sarcasm, cynicism and pessimism. Life changes us. In the moments after the revelation Yosef wonders to himself, “Can I become the person I once was? Can my father become the person he once was? So much has happened, so much has changed, Ha’od Avi Chai, does the father I knew still exist? Does the person I once was still exist?”

Thus, when Yosef asks the brothers this question, there is no reply. Because no one can answer this question for Yosef; he must decide for himself. Will let twenty years of difficulty and pain define him or will he choose to reclaim his former self? Yosef decides that he will be a loving benevolent brother who will work to repair his family. And he sends an important message to his father. He says, “Hasten and go up to my father, and say to him, ‘So said your son, Joseph: “God has made me a lord over all the Egyptians. Come down to me, do not tarry.” (Bereishis 45:9) The Hebrew phrase for “do not tarry” is “al taamod.” This can also be translated as, “do not stand in place.” Yosef was telling his father, “I know that the spirit of God has not been upon you for the last twenty-two years, I know that you have not been “alive” during these last two decades when you thought I was dead – but it doesn’t have to continue like this. Don’t stand in place – if you want to change your attitude and disposition you can do so. I have done it and father, so can you.”

In this week’s Parsha Yaakov says to Yosef, “… God, before Whom my fathers, Abraham and Isaac, walked, God Who sustained me as long as I am alive, until this day. May the angel who redeemed me from all harm bless the youths, and may they be called by my name and the name of my fathers, Abraham and Isaac, and may they multiply abundantly like fish, in the midst of the land.” (Bereishis 48:15-16) Yaakov answers Yosef’s question. “I kept my connection to my God. I felt Him by my side every step of the way. I never lost myself to my suffering no matter how difficult things became. There were years of mourning and feeling bereft – but I never lost my relationship with my Father. I suffered and lost much. But throughout my life even when I have lost hope and optimism, I made the conscious decision to reclaim it. Yes, my son, I am still alive. The beracha I give to your children is that they should feel the connection and providence of Hashem even in difficult, tumultuous and turbulent times.”

As Yaakov drew his last breath he looked at his children and realized that they had managed to heal the wounds, mend the rifts and repair the broken hearts. They decided to reclaim the familial love they once had and to try to rebuild.

The era of the Patriarchs had ended, but their children continued to inspire. Yaakov and Yosef teach us one of our most important life lessons. We start out on the journey of life with hope, optimism and great dreams. But things happen. Trauma changes us, life changes us and circumstances often unfold in ways we did not expect. As a result, we lose parts of ourselves that were so precious and necessary. But we have the power to reclaim all that is lost. Because at the end of the day, we decide the kind of people we are going to be. We decide the disposition and the life outlook we adopt and maintain. We decide which traits and dispositions which will define us.  We possess the power to reclaim all we have lost.