Hesed Ve-Emet; a Thought for Parashat Vayechi

Jacob's Funeral Procession

There is a popular joke:  Be kind to your children; they will choose your nursing home.

This week’s Torah portion is the final reading in the Book of Genesis, or Bereishit; next week, Jewish congregations all over the world will move into the Book of Exodus, or Shemot.  In last week’s portion, Joseph and his brothers experienced a reconciliation once Joseph recognized that what he’d gone through represented G-d’s way to position him to save his family from certain death in the regional famine that raged for seven years.  Joseph bade his brothers to bring their father and the entire tribe to Egypt to live, and the Pharaoh expressed his gratitude towards Joseph by welcoming them to live as resident aliens in his kingdom.

As this week’s portion opens, 17 years have passed since the arrival of Israel, Joseph’s father, in Egypt.  Jacob has taken ill and recognizes that his death is imminent.  He summons Joseph to his side and begs him to grant his dying request:  that he be buried, not in Egypt, but in the resting place of his fathers, Abraham and Isaac, in Ma’arat Machpelah, in Hebron.

In making this request, Joseph asks his son to act towards him with Hesed ve-Emet:  with kindness and truth.

In the Rabbis’ ethical universe, there is no greater mitzvah than the acts we take to honor the dead.  After all, the dead cannot repay us for any kindness we render them.  And they are totally dependent upon that kindness, to ensure that they receive the care and burial that they desire.

Just as Joseph understood that he was dependent upon Joseph’s respect and kindness to honor his final request, as we age we understand that we will ultimately depend upon our children to treat us with dignity and carry out our wishes.  This is one of the reasons that Clara and I returned to Israel recently – why we chose this time specifically.  I had recently lost my mother, my father having preceded her in death by over a decade.  Clara’s father, too, passed away over ten years ago.  Of our four parents, Clara’s mother is the last surviving.  Clara has increasingly felt burdened to be present to her mother in her final years.  Whether her mother spends her final days in a nursing home or not, it’s her wish – and mine – to be here and ensure that her mother will experience Hesed ve-Emet to her wishes.  There is no greater task left to a child, no greater trust.

Sadly, there are so many examples of families whose dysfunction consigns aging parents to lonely isolation in their final years.  Of grown children who ‘don’t have time’ to be bothered with their parents.  Who only see them as ‘cash cows’ and keep their eyes on the inheritance they stand to gain upon their parents’ deaths.  This speaks very poorly toward us as a civilization. 

Joseph promises to carry out his father’s dying wish and, in the 50^th and final chapter of the Book of Genesis, we read that he fulfills his promise.  Joseph and his brothers travel back to Canaan to bury their father in Hebron.  But they do not travel alone.  By the time of his death, Israel has achieved high esteem in the eyes of the Egyptians, up to and including the Pharaoh himself.  The King of Egypt sends his palace elders, as well as a large contingent of charioteers and horsemen, to accompany Joseph and his brothers.  Other royal courtiers and notables join the pilgrimage.  On the banks of the Jordan they hold a large funeral; seeing the proceedings, the Canaanites understand that all of Egypt is in mourning over the death of a great man.  Joseph and his brothers’ fealty to their father’s final wish, and the Egyptians’ embracing of the task, send a powerful message to the peoples of the land.

Each one of us would do well to honor our aging parents the best we can:  both in their lives and in their deaths.  This would represent not only fulfillment of the Torah’s principle of honoring one’s mother and father.  It would add greatly to the goodness of our society and enable us to reach greater heights of goodness collectively.  Keeping families involved across the generations, reminds us of whence we came, and where we’re going.  Shabbat shalom.