December 25th: Vayigash
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
One of our most venerable traditions is deference to the elderly—to our sages. We are taught to respect our forebears and to respect their experiences and judgment. The Traditional attitude is that they are closer to the purity of the Revelation—to Sinai—and thus have a better understanding of the directions we were given back then. Of course, there is a difference between respect and obedience. The Fifth Commandment does not say, “Obey your father and your mother.” It commands us to “Honor your father and your mother…” (Exodus 20) It is one thing to respect the elderly; it is another thing to obey them without question. Honor and respect dictate that we listen carefully to our elderly, but we are not obliged to obey them. This dynamic tension was approached by Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan, the thinker behind Reconstructionist Judaism, when he said, “The past has a vote, not a veto.”
This all comes to mind this week because our Torah portion presents a brief but possibly significant meeting of the minds. After the dramatic family reunions between Joseph and his brothers—and then his father, and after Jacob moves the whole family down to Egypt (Genesis 45-47), “Joseph then brought his father Jacob and presented him to Pharaoh; and Jacob greeted Pharaoh. Pharaoh asked Jacob, ‘How many are the years of your life?’ Jacob answered Pharaoh, ‘The years of my sojourn on earth are one hundred and thirty. Few and hard have been the years of my life, nor do they come up to the life spans of my fathers during their sojourns.’ Then Jacob bade Pharaoh farewell, and Jacob left Pharaoh’s presence.” (Genesis 47.7-10)
The text is not clear about whether Pharaoh understands whom he is meeting. Some commentators treat it as a polite encounter—Pharaoh is just meeting his trusted assistant’s family. Others, however, intuit that Pharaoh knows that he is meeting a person of high spiritual status: Ya’akov/Yisra’el, the Patriarch of God’s new religion, the man who wrestled with both God and with men and prevailed. In their minds, Pharaoh is thrilled and impressed with meeting Jacob and is hoping for some wisdom and spiritual profundity. This possibility that Pharaoh is impressed with Jacob’s “sageness” is supported by a few points. Pharaoh asks about Jacob’s age—length of years being a basis for respect. Jacob does most of the talking—indicating that Pharaoh is in the presence of a spiritual master and takes the opportunity to learn from him. And, at the end, Jacob blesses Pharaoh.
Our translation renders the Hebrew, “Vayivarech Ya’akov et Par’oh” as simply “Jacob bade Pharaoh farewell”—based on Rashi’s notion that the scene describes polite social conversation. The RAMBAN (Rabbi Moses Nachmanides) has a different view, based on a literal translation of the text. The word “Yivarech” means “blessed,” leading Nachmonides to see a disciple (Pharaoh) appearing before a master (Jacob) to receive wisdom. From his superior spiritual position, Jacob bestows blessing and wisdom on Pharaoh—and Pharaoh is both happy and honored to receive the Patriarch’s blessing.
Does this affect Pharaoh’s and Joseph’s economic policy—or foreign policy or any of their plans? Apparently not. Though the Pharaoh knows that Jacob is his superior in intellect and spiritual wisdom, he does not invite him to sit at the table of national decisions. He honors Jacob; he learns from Jacob; he welcomes Jacob to his country and gives him the land of Goshen. He does not, however, install Jacob as a governmental leader. To paraphrase Kaplan, Pharaoh gives deference to the sage, but he does not give him control.
How does one become a sage, and what should one do with the status? Sometimes, retired (or dismissed) public officials try to actualize their sage status by writing memoirs in which they “set the story straight” and try to influence from the Great Beyond of retirement. They may provide important insights, but it is important to remember that their new positions are markedly different from when they held the reins of power. Do we listen to them? Of course. Are we bound to believe them or obey them? No, hardly. Their wisdom may be helpful, but, then again, it could be bound and limited by the same opinions and situations that hampered them when they were in charge. Idealistic visions are wonderful, but turning them into reality is the challenge, and the elevation to sage does not automatically confer correctness.
So, let us imagine the relationship between Jacob and Joseph during the seventeen years Jacob lives in Egypt. One figures Joseph is pretty busy—and that Jacob is retired. Nonetheless, one figures that they get together from time to time and that the busy administrator “talks shop” with his Dad. As an elderly sage, with wisdom to share, one can imagine Jacob holding forth on various issues of interest. As a dutiful and affectionate son, Joseph is probably interested in his father’s insights. He certainly listens and considers, but this is not a dynamic of command and obedience.
As much as we can learn from Jacob’s many experiences—examples of both good and not-so-good behaviors, a positive lesson we can learn here is about letting go and trusting the next generation to figure things out on its own. Jacob has fathered a nation, and he has made great spiritual progress, but he is not the leader of Egypt, and he must let the Pharaoh and Joseph fulfill their responsibilities. Part of being a sage is realizing that one is no longer in charge.