One of my friends and colleagues, Rabbi Bryan Kinzbrunner—he’s the chaplain at the Wilf Campus for Senior Living— asked us at a local clergy meeting, how often we rabbis speak about issues of aging and death from the bimah. Because often, the answer is that we don’t, and we don’t because they’re uncomfortable subjects. Things like death, sex, sickness, aging— they’re all very personal subjects, and talking about them often leaves us feeling sensitive, exposed and uncomfortable.
But, when we avoid them, we avoid dealing with some of our deepest concerns. We end up leaving fears and anxieties where they are— sometimes buried deep or something just waiting near the surface, and we miss the important lessons our tradition has to offer— the lessons that can offer us guidance and support through some of life’s most treacherous passages.
How many of us have had conversations with our closest friends, siblings, parents, or children, about what we wish to happen to us when we age and when we die, and what they wish for themselves? Have we spoken about how we’ll really feel— what we hope and fear— when these times come upon us?
And do we only touch on feelings and speak in vague generalizations that will hopefully get a point across, or do we speak frankly and practically, laying out exactly what we wish?
End-of-life issues are hard enough to navigate when we have open communication on difficult topics between loved ones, and often, this kind of open communication, around the scariest parts of our lives, just doesn’t happen, until it’s too late.
This week’s Torah portion Vayeḥi gives us a beautifully moving example of open communication between a dying father and his sons.
Starting at the second verse of the parashah we read:
וַיִּקְרְב֣וּ יְמֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵל֮ לָמוּת֒ וַיִּקְרָ֣א ׀ לִבְנ֣וֹ לְיוֹסֵ֗ף וַיֹּ֤אמֶר לוֹ֙ אִם־נָ֨א מָצָ֤אתִי חֵן֙ בְּעֵינֶ֔יךָ שִֽׂים־נָ֥א יָדְךָ֖ תַּ֣חַת יְרֵכִ֑י וְעָשִׂ֤יתָ עִמָּדִי֙ חֶ֣סֶד וֶאֱמֶ֔ת אַל־נָ֥א תִקְבְּרֵ֖נִי בְּמִצְרָֽיִם׃ וְשָֽׁכַבְתִּי֙ עִם־אֲבֹתַ֔י וּנְשָׂאתַ֙נִי֙ מִמִּצְרַ֔יִם וּקְבַרְתַּ֖נִי בִּקְבֻרָתָ֑ם וַיֹּאמַ֕ר אָנֹכִ֖י אֶֽעֱשֶׂ֥ה כִדְבָרֶֽךָ׃ וַיֹּ֗אמֶר הִשָּֽׁבְעָה֙ לִ֔י וַיִּשָּׁבַ֖ע ל֑וֹ וַיִּשְׁתַּ֥חוּ יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל עַל־רֹ֥אשׁ הַמִּטָּֽה׃
Now when Yisrael’s days drew near to death, he called his son Yosef and said to him: Pray, if I have found favor in your eyes, pray put your hand under my thigh— deal with me faithfully and truly: pray do not bury me in Egypt! When I lie down with my fathers, carry me out of Egypt, and bury me in their burial-site! He said: I will do according to your words. But he said: Swear to me! So he swore to him. Then Israel bowed, at the head of the bed (Genesis 47:29-31).
Jacob has carefully considered where he would like to be buried. And, fortunately for him, his grandfather Abraham bought a family plot at the cave of Makhpelah.
Unfortunately, this plot is in another country! Jacob (also known as Israel) and his clan are all now in Egypt, where they have escaped famine and found safety under Joseph’s watch. Jacob’s sons might be inclined to bury him in a location closer by, where they can go without having to travel for days, or weeks, and, as per the later custom, where they can bury Jacob as soon as possible. This decision would not be so far off, as Jacob set the example for near-immediate burial when Raḥel died, and he buried her on route, in Bet-Leḥem.
And, Jacob’s burial request could be politically challenging for Joseph. For the second-in-command to the pharaoh, what would it mean to request to bury one’s father not in the land you govern, but in a foreign backwater? Jacob knew he would have to not just ask, but get an oath from his favored son to ensure that his end-of-life wishes would be heard. Jacob carefully considered what he would have to do to make sure his wishes for burial would be met.
And as part of this plan, we know that Jacob did not wait until the last minute.
וַיְהִ֗י אַחֲרֵי֙ הַדְּבָרִ֣ים הָאֵ֔לֶּה וַיֹּ֣אמֶר לְיוֹסֵ֔ף הִנֵּ֥ה אָבִ֖יךָ חֹלֶ֑ה וַיִּקַּ֞ח אֶת־שְׁנֵ֤י בָנָיו֙ עִמּ֔וֹ אֶת־מְנַשֶּׁ֖ה וְאֶת־אֶפְרָֽיִם׃
Now after these events it was that they said to Yosef: Here, your father has taken sick! So he took his two sons with him, Menasheh and Efrayim. . . . (Genesis 48:1)
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Jacob also seems to be in tune with what his Joseph may feel and be concerned with at the time of his passing. Jacob notes that his son may fear losing his one link to his place of his birth and childhood. Jacob was all that connected Joseph to his younger days— those days with his coat of many colors. Though his brothers were around in his childhood as well, they didn’t exactly encourage nostalgic thinking.
Jacob was not just Joseph’s connection to childhood; he was Joseph’s connection to God, through the land of Canaan and the great blessings that were promised to our people. Jacob’s departure would mean, for Joseph, emotional and spiritual, and physical isolation. So Jacob reassures him. He says:
וַיֹּ֤אמֶר יִשְׂרָאֵל֙ אֶל־יוֹסֵ֔ף הִנֵּ֥ה אָנֹכִ֖י מֵ֑ת וְהָיָ֤ה אֱלֹהִים֙ עִמָּכֶ֔ם וְהֵשִׁ֣יב אֶתְכֶ֔ם אֶל־אֶ֖רֶץ אֲבֹתֵיכֶֽם׃
Then Yisrael said to Yosef: Here, I am dying, but God will be with you, he will have you return to the land of your fathers (Genesis 48:21).
Fear not Joseph. I will not be here for long, but God will, and God will take you home.
Jacob reassures his favorite son, and then gathers the others around his bed to impart his final thoughts and blessings. Jacob says his goodbyes, and he says them on his own terms in a way that leaves him at peace. (In reading the text, you’ll note that his final words might not have left all of his sons at peace— that’s a conversation for another day.)
The Midrash (D’varim Rabbah) teaches that while Jacob had some final wisdom to share, he also felt a lot of anxiety and trepidation. Not of death, but, like Joseph, at the loss of a connection to God and all he had worked for. He fears a loss of legacy. He, and his parents and grandparents, had started something meaningful, something counter-cultural, something that could bring great blessing to the world. They had established a special and strong relationship with the with the living God. But of all of his sons, Joseph was the only one who had demonstrated that he understood. And so, on his deathbed, Jacob expresses himself. He opens himself up. The midrash teaches us that Jacob asked, trembling, “Perhaps, after I leave this world, you will go and worship other gods?” His sons respond, “Sh’ma Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Eḥad. Hear, O Israel, Adonai is our God, Adonai alone.” Moved to tears, Jacob responds, with his last breath, “Barukh Shem K’vod Malchuto L’olam Va’ed. Praised be God’s glorious sovereignty throughout all time.”
Knowing their fathers’ wishes, and giving him ḥesed emet, the truest of kindnesses, they honor Jacob, they take care of his body, and they mourn.
The text reads,
וַיְכַ֤ל יַעֲקֹב֙ לְצַוֹּ֣ת אֶת־בָּנָ֔יו וַיֶּאֱסֹ֥ף רַגְלָ֖יו אֶל־הַמִּטָּ֑ה וַיִּגְוַ֖ע וַיֵּאָ֥סֶף אֶל־עַמָּֽיו׃ וַיִּפֹּ֥ל יוֹסֵ֖ף עַל־פְּנֵ֣י אָבִ֑יו וַיֵּ֥בְךְּ עָלָ֖יו וַיִּשַּׁק־לֽוֹ׃ וַיְצַ֨ו יוֹסֵ֤ף אֶת־עֲבָדָיו֙ אֶת־הָרֹ֣פְאִ֔ים לַחֲנֹ֖ט אֶת־אָבִ֑יו וַיַּחַנְט֥וּ הָרֹפְאִ֖ים אֶת־יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃ וַיִּמְלְאוּ־לוֹ֙ אַרְבָּעִ֣ים י֔וֹם כִּ֛י כֵּ֥ן יִמְלְא֖וּ יְמֵ֣י הַחֲנֻטִ֑ים וַיִּבְכּ֥וּ אֹת֛וֹ מִצְרַ֖יִם שִׁבְעִ֥ים יֽוֹם׃ וַיַּֽעַבְרוּ֙ יְמֵ֣י בְכִית֔וֹ וַיְדַבֵּ֣ר יוֹסֵ֔ף אֶל־בֵּ֥ית פַּרְעֹ֖ה לֵאמֹ֑ר אִם־נָ֨א מָצָ֤אתִי חֵן֙ בְּעֵ֣ינֵיכֶ֔ם דַּבְּרוּ־נָ֕א בְּאָזְנֵ֥י פַרְעֹ֖ה לֵאמֹֽר׃ אָבִ֞י הִשְׁבִּיעַ֣נִי לֵאמֹ֗ר הִנֵּ֣ה אָנֹכִי֮ מֵת֒ בְּקִבְרִ֗י אֲשֶׁ֨ר כָּרִ֤יתִי לִי֙ בְּאֶ֣רֶץ כְּנַ֔עַן שָׁ֖מָּה תִּקְבְּרֵ֑נִי וְעַתָּ֗ה אֶֽעֱלֶה־נָּ֛א וְאֶקְבְּרָ֥ה אֶת־אָבִ֖י וְאָשֽׁוּבָה׃
When Yaakov had finished commanding his sons, he gather up his feet onto the bed and expired, and was gathered to his kinspeople. Yosef flung himself on his father’s face, he wept over him and kissed him. Then Yosef charged his servants, the physicians, to embalm his father, and the physicians embalmed Yisrael. A full forty days were required for him, for thus are fulfilled the days of embalming. And the Egyptians wept for him for seventy days. Now when the days of weeping for him had passed, Yosef spoke to Pharaoh’s household, saying: Pray, if I have found favor in your eyes, pray speak in the ears of Pharaoh, saying: My father had me swear, saying: Here I am dying— in my burial-site which I dug for myself in the land of Canaan, there you are to bury me! So now, pray let me go up, bury my father, and return (Genesis 49:33-50:5).
Joseph followed through on the promise he had made when his father was strong enough to demand from his son this oath. Pharaoh sent him, with trusted servants and all the elders of the land of Egypt, and his family, to bring their father home and lay him to rest. And they did.
Jacob’s end was a beautiful one, surrounded by loved ones who understood exactly how he wanted to be cared for, and the legacy he wished for them to carry forth. And approaching this end, Jacob was reassured that those he loved most would feel cared for, and never again alone. And these all happened not through letters, or mentions-in-passing, but through deliberate, open, and honest communication. This is the only way we can truly make ourselves and our wishes known to others.
So, if we haven’t yet had these conversations where they need to be had, may this parashah be our impetus. We have little control over when each of our ends will near, but we can make sure that we and our loved ones will be more ready and feel more supported when it does. Through open conversation and honest confrontation of that which scares us the most, we can take something uncomfortable for all and bring it to light, so that our times of illness, death and loss can have a little more meaning, and a whole lot more holiness.
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