Vayigash: Modern Struggles in an Ancient Family Gathering

Hello again, everyone! Last week I was away on vacation, and you probably noticed there was no blog post. I'll admit it, I missed you! Well, I'm back, and I am excited to continue our exploration of the wonderful stories told throughout the Bible. So without further ado, let's dive right back in:

As we make our way through the season, the theme of 'family gatherings' seems to loom large. From a modern perspective, this 'season' generally refers to Thanksgiving, Chanukah/Christmas, and New Year's Eve, or at least one of the above. At the same time, from a Biblical perspective, we are also talking about family gatherings; in that this week's Torah portion provides the dramatic conclusion to the Joseph story, where he is finally reunited with his father and his brothers. So everyone gets to be surrounded by relatives this week! And with this unifying theme in mind, I found a fascinating little story tucked away in our parasha that remains as true today as it was 3,000 years ago.

Joseph and his father, Jacob, are back together again. In a beautiful scene, the two men embrace and cry, and everything seems happy and wonderful. But once more we are reminded that these are human beings, not cartoon characters. They are also amazingly familiar, displaying traits that you or I might possess right here and now. 

Joseph, excited to see his father and eager to show off his own accomplishments, decides to introduce his dad to his new boss. He brings Jacob to meet Pharaoh, and the two men shake hands. Pharaoh asks Jacob a simple question, "How many are the years of your life?" (Gen. 47:8) Jacob replies, "The years of my sojourn [on earth] are 130." A straightforward enough response, right? So far, so good... and then Jacob begins to embarrass his son. He continues: "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" (v. 9). 

The scene ends awkwardly. Neither man speaks again, and they go their separate ways. I can just picture Joseph, the son, cringing on the inside. In Egypt, he has risen to a position of power; he's established, modern, professional - a yuppie. And now his old-world, old-religion father shows up talking about his ancestors, complaining about all the tzures he's lived through, and generally over-sharing. How often doesn't this happen to parents and kids today, this type of miscommunication? And what's Jacob talking about anyway? He's 130 years old, yet he's upset about how young he is?!? Furthermore, now that he's finally been reunited with his long-lost son, and should be filled with joy and gratitude, why is it he still sounds so miserable? Why is he still kvetching?? As frustrating as this scene might be, it is also wonderfully true to life, even today. I think it speaks volumes about Jacob's mindset, about Joseph's mindset, and about family interactions still facing the same challenges, even after millennia.

We could spend our time debating what each man was trying to convey, but I think that misses the point. To me, this scene reveals something about communication within families. We all struggle with it! The story gives us the freedom to acknowledge we aren't alone, but also encourages us to try and see things from someone else's perspective. Jacob has had a truly hard life... but Joseph hasn't 

exactly been living on easy-street either! Sometimes the people closest to us can seem farther away than anyone else. After years of living apart, how can Jacob and Joseph grow to understand one another again, to connect, to see one another as equals? And perhaps most important of all, if we allow ourselves to dig beneath the surface, are we brave enough to admit that our own story really isn't so different from theirs?

Photos in this blog post:  

1. CC image courtesy of wlodi on Flickr 

2. CC image courtesy of Tag Your Friends on Flickr  

3. CC image courtesy of gcoldironjr2003 on Flickr

4. CC image courtesy of Donna Sullivan Thomson on Flickr