Yosef's Final Passage - Dying and LIVING with Dignity

This sermon was delivered as part of our shul's participation in NASCK's "TEAMShabbos."

Parshat Vaychi - Yosef's Final Passage 

As this week is the TEAM (Traditional End of Life Awareness Movement) Shabbos of the National association of Chevra Kadisha, the sermon today is intended to open a conversation - see more information at Nasck.org and teamshabbos.org. 

When Yaakov dies at age 147, his sons range in age from 62 (Reuven) to 56 (Yosef and Zevulun and possibly Asher), to the youngest, Binyamin, who was around 48. 

As we know how old Yosef is at his death, 110, and since Yosef is the one who is credited with being the first of the brothers to die, this means that the brothers all lived together in Egypt without their father for another 54 years.  

Can you imagine what their lives would have been like if they had the bitterness of their early days come back to haunt them? 

After Yaakov’s funeral, the brothers seem worried that the kindness Yosef has exhibited toward them over the past 17 years had only been on account of Yaakov’s presence. But now that he was gone, maybe the “real” Yosef was the Yosef they had seen when they first came to Egypt looking for provisions for the family back in Canaan. 

But the reality is a different story. Since identifying himself as their long lost brother, Yosef has been only gracious, has shown only love, has expressed only the desire for his brothers to not feel guilt for having him sold, for had Yosef not been in Egypt to interpret Paroh's dreams, perhaps they'd have all died in the famine. And now they'll all be taken care of for the rest of Yosef's days, if not the rest of their days as well. 

But Yaakov is now gone. And so they tell Yosef about a command Yaakov had issued before he died – one which we, the readers, never heard, and one which Yosef, who clearly spend a lot of time with his father, hadn’t been told either. 

Every indication in the Torah suggests they fabricated the “conversation with their father.” Rashi says so plainly in 50:16. 

To be sure, some commentaries suggest Yaakov did actually say what they claim he said (Taz quotes Ramban elsewhere as saying such, and even initially suggests it himself), even though most commentators think they made it up. 

The Netziv suggests Yosef missed it because there were hints in the blessings Yaakov gave which showed the command, but Yosef did not catch them the way his brothers did. 

Of course, all of this discussion hinges on the basic assumption that Yaakov knew about the sale of Yosef. He may have, he might not have, and it could also be that the brothers did not participate in the sale at all, having left him in the pit while Midianites passed by and took him out and sold him. 

But if Yaakov did not know what happened, the likelihood of his commanding Yosef not to enact revenge is increasingly minute. And that turns the words of the brothers into a clear lie. 

Regardless, Yosef hears the message, the “words” of his dead father being transposed to his ears, and he cries. Why is he crying? Because his father suspected he’d take revenge? Over how his brothers could fabricate this tale? Or that his brothers, after all this time together, could possibly suspect that the way he has related to them in the last 17 years was all a show? 

Unfortunately for this sideshow, Yosef has much more important things on his mind than this pettiness. He already told them last week that he believes God is the one Who sent him to Egypt so he could be in a position to save and take care of the family. He repeats this sentiment here as well. 

And then what does Yosef do in the final 54 years of his life? 

P Beyond taking care of his family, as he promises in verse 21 (כא) וְעַתָּה֙ אַל־תִּירָ֔אוּ אָנֹכִ֛י אֲכַלְכֵּ֥ל אֶתְכֶ֖ם וְאֶֽת־טַפְּכֶ֑ם:, Yosef clearly puts his house in order. 

1. He makes a clear and final peace with his brothers. וַיְנַחֵ֣ם אוֹתָ֔ם וַיְדַבֵּ֖ר עַל־לִבָּֽם 
2. They lived together and made a life in Egypt (כב) וַיֵּ֤שֶׁב יוֹסֵף֙ בְּמִצְרַ֔יִם ה֖וּא וּבֵ֣ית אָבִ֑יו 
3. Yosef is blessed to LIVE וַיְחִ֣י יוֹסֵ֔ף מֵאָ֥ה וָעֶ֖שֶׂר שָׁנִֽים. The word ויחי is often used to depict a meaningful life. It’s more than just ויהי ימי so and so, giving us an account of the number of years of his life. It’s an acknowledgement of a deeper essence to life. 
4. Yosef lived to be a great grandfather – this too is acknowledged as an accomplishment. And not only that, but he was close to them “גַּ֗ם בְּנֵ֤י מָכִיר֙ בֶּן־מְנַשֶּׁ֔ה יֻלְּד֖וּ עַל־בִּרְכֵּ֥י יוֹסֵֽף:” – I don’t suppose this means he was a midwife. But that he was part of their lives. 
5. When Yosef is about to die, he leaves a last will and testamentוֵֽאלֹהִ֞ים פָּקֹ֧ד יִפְקֹ֣ד אֶתְכֶ֗ם וְהֶעֱלָ֤ה אֶתְכֶם֙ מִן־הָאָ֣רֶץ הַזֹּ֔את אֶל־הָאָ֕רֶץ אֲשֶׁ֥ר נִשְׁבַּ֛ע לְאַבְרָהָ֥ם לְיִצְחָ֖ק וּֽלְיַעֲקֹֽב:. This promise becomes the living legacy that the Bnei Yisrael turn to as a reminder that their time in Egypt is limited. They WILL leave one day. 
6. He also makes a dying wish that he be reinterred in the Promised Land, that when they leave Egypt they are to take his bones with them for reburial in Eretz Canaan. 
7. And finally, after dying and being embalmed, his body is placed in a box in Egypt. 

It’s a funny thing about that box. Some say the box was hidden in the Nile. But listen to Seforno’s interpretation. ספורנו בראשית פרשת ויחי פרק נ פסוק כו (כו) ויחנטו אותו ויישם בארון. באותו הארון שהיתה החנטה בו הניחו עצמותיו ולא קברוהו בקרקע ובזה נודע הארון לדורות שנאמר ויקח משה את עצמות יוסף 

What’s the point? It’s meant to serve as a reminder for people for the next 139 years, until the moment of the Exodus, that there was a promise made that we’d be leaving one day. And it was made by that man, who is now in that box, that box that we’ll be taking out of Egypt with us when we leave. 

What an incredible gift of hope and optimism that Yosef utilized in preparing for his death. 

There is a natural concern people have, when they sense their life is going to end soon, about dying with dignity. I know it’s a loaded term, but I’ll get back to that in a moment. Those who think about these things in advance make many decisions. From “Do Not Resuscitate” to “do everything you possibly can for me;” from my family member or members make all decisions for me if I become incapacitated to my rabbi makes all decisions for me in those circumstances. 

Some people actually discuss these things with their children, because inevitably children have different thoughts as to what is in their parents’ best interest. 

Some people view every extra minute, day, week, month, they can give their elderly or sick parent as the most important priority for them. Some may talk about “quality of life” and make decisions – in some cases with the elderly parent who is still lucid, and perhaps with the doctor or rabbi as well – about what options are best, and when some things are no longer worth treating. Some people make choices that others may question, that may raise eyebrows, or that they may even regret later in life, perhaps because they’re looking at medical bills mounting and seeing their inheritance slipping away. 

So what is Death with Dignity? 

I’m going to give you the contemporary definition, and then I’m going to give you what I think is a more Jewish definition. “Death with Dignity” in contemporary society has two meanings. One which is anathema to our existence – actively terminating someone’s life because they don’t want to suffer any more. In halakha we call this murder. 

The other, much less than an idea debated in the moral, ethical and political spheres, is the idea that someone should die with dignity, meaning with people remembering them as they were in life, not seeing them in what some consider an undignified manner, in a hospital bed, possibly hooked up to one or several machines, being nourished by IVs or a feeding tube, in the most unnatural state. 

In a Jewish sense, this is not undignified. This is a part of the experience of life that modern medicine has afforded us the opportunity to have. 

Obviously every case is different, and needs to be addressed for its unique qualities, and the person’s unique experience. Look up Rabbi Yitzi Hurwitz – ALS-stricken and paralyzed. He has been living in a bed for several years. Should he have “Died with dignity”? 

There are organizations dedicated to giving people, even those who are living under very difficult and trying circumstances, a quality of life that makes for dignified living. Certainly for the elderly. But I’ll give you one example from the opposite end of the life spectrum. There is an organization called Kids of Courage. Some of the kids who are helped through this organization are not ill, per se, but they are missing limbs either from birth or from tragic accidents. Others are living because they are attached to machines. And this organization takes them on life affirming trips, giving them something to look forward to, whether it’s going skiing (imagine skiing while attached to a machine!) or to Disney, or something else you might think is impossible. Should the kids at Kids of Courage be left to die with Dignity – or do they deserve a chance at life? 

So I’m going to give you a new definition of Death with Dignity, and it’s the one we learn from Yosef. 

Death with Dignity comes from living Life with Dignity. It means setting goals. It means having no regrets when life is over. 

It means I live a life in which I make peace with family members. Sometimes it’s a strain to get there. But imagine the regret, or regrettable nature of an estranged relationship, when children don’t care about their parents who have died, when siblings – either those sitting shiva together, or those who should be sitting in mourning for one another – don’t really see the point of having those feelings of loss, because they didn’t care about the deceased at all? 

Yosef forgives his brothers. Yosef makes peace with his brothers. They are ALL at his deathbed. And they ALL make the promise that his bones will be taken out of Egypt. 

While I don’t think it’s required for people to live near their relatives, I do think, whenever possible, it is important to visit, to be in touch, and to not lose that connection. Even if it takes work. And for some people, it takes a lot of work. 

Like Yosef who experienced a life of ויחי, a dignified life is one defined by meaningful choices. Whether it’s an elevated life of Torah and Mitzvos, a thoughtful life of constantly growing, having and sharing new experiences, a life of learning, or a life of a consistent schedule which gives a person a sense of purpose. This is what it means to live a life of dignity. And when a person lives to a dignified life, a person can merit a dignified death. 

Yosef lived to see generations. Perhaps not everyone merits that. Some die young, some don’t have children. These are realities. But those realities don’t mean people can’t have good relationships. Every time I hear of an elderly person, especially one who passes away in their late 90s or over 100, the reaction is “I can’t believe he/she is gone. Bubbie/Zaydie was around forever, and I just assumed it would always be that way.” 

EVERYONE has the opportunity to live life this way – to be a good friend or relative to the people in their lives, so that when life is coming to an end, people care, and people will miss us. 

There is a fellow I know, during WWII his family was saved by Raoul Wallenberg. Thank God he is in good health, has a family. But he makes it his business to call people. The people in his life – non relatives. On a regular basis. To check in, to see how they’re doing. I know because he used to call my grandparents, and he calls my siblings and me. A Very dear friend of our family. He makes a special effort. God should bless him for many years to come. 

Yosef leaves a will and testament to his family, in which he talks about God, and what he believes God has in store for his family in the future. That they should never forget that God is there. 

And Yosef pines for the Holy Land. He knows that he has to be placed somewhere for the interim. But his heart and mind are not in Egypt. He doesn’t get buried somewhere to be forgotten about. Were that the case, his bones couldn’t serve as a reminder of the coming Geulah. My grandfather AH often mentioned his hopes to see Moshiach. On his tombstone it says כל ימיו צפה לישועה, that he looked forward to the final redemption. Perhaps like Yosef, this was his tribute to his family, that we should also be mindful to look forward to a future of גאולה. 

Living With Dignity is what creates the opening to Dying with Dignity. That is the choice we have to make. And until our dying day, we have the opportunity to try to fix whatever is broken so that when that last day comes, we should be blessed to have no regrets. 

This year we actually have a series in February focused on planning Ahead, and it will be capped off with a presentation that was added after our Education Booklet was published, given by Rabbi Yaakov Lyons, a Florida Representative of NASCK, on Halakhic Living Wills. 

Our goal in this Shabbos is to remind ourselves that many have lived and have not planned and made their deaths a burden on their families due to all kinds of decision-making and logistics that hadn’t been considered in advance. 

And many who lived with dignity died with the ultimate dignity, having made all the necessary plans and arrangements for their families, so they too left no regrets. The only regret always is “I wish we had more time to spend together.” 

Halevai that is the only regret we could all have.