In ParshasVayechi, Yaakov Avinu crosses his hands to bless his grandsons, Ephraim and Menashe. That moment has echoed through Jewish life for centuries: Every Friday night, parents bless their sons with the words, “May Hashem make you like Ephraim and Menashe.” The gesture is more than symbolic. It teaches that continuity need not be uniform. Each child receives a blessing according to his path, yet each of them remains part of Klal Yisrael.
Decades ago, in an eighth-grade classroom in Miami, Rabbi Sherwin Stauber taught the story of Ephraim and Menashe. Two boys sat in that room: One would become Rav Zev Leff of Moshav Matisyahu, the other Dr. David Luchins, my father-in-law. They listened to the same words, but each carried them forward in a distinct way.
Rabbi Stauber pointed out the following: Bereishis 48:5 reads, “Your two sons, who were born to you in the land of Mitzrayim before I came to you in Mitzrayim, shall be mine; Ephraim and Menashe.” And yet, three verses later, it says: “Noticing Joseph’s sons, Israel asked, ‘Who are these?’” Did Yaakov Avinu forget? No, Rabbi Stauber explained. Yosef, rushing to his father’s side with his sons, did not pause to remove their Egyptian royal garments. They appeared before Yaakov not as his grandchildren, but as children of exile, dressed in foreign garb. Yaakov was asking, “I love your boys… but who are these?”
Yosef’s reply: “They are my sons, whom Hashem has given me here.” Only then does Yaakov reach out his hands and famously cross them. He gave precedence to the younger Ephraim, not to diminish Menashe, but to show that blessing is tailored. Continuity adapts to the individual’s destiny. That gesture became the model for how Jews bless their sons every Shabbos.
That moment was more than a lesson; it was a seed. Transmission begins in classrooms, but it does not end there. A single teaching may echo in many lives, each expression shaped by circumstance and soul. Yet all remain bound to the same root, faithful to the source from which they grow.
Rabbi Stauber’s classroom carried that gesture forward. Two boys heard the same teaching, but each drew out a different facet for their focus.
Resilience in Exile: Rabbi Leff’s Emphasis
Rabbi Zev Leff focuses on the facet of steadfastness in exile. Ephraim and Menashe grew up in Mitzrayim, immersed in foreign culture, yet remained true to Torah. For him, they are the model for Jews living in the Diaspora, who are holding firm to their Jewish identity even when surrounded by influences that could erode it.
“May Hashem make you like Ephraim and Menashe.” Rabbi Leff explains that this blessing is unique. We bless our sons not to be like the Patriarchs, but like the grandchildren who thrived in exile. It is a reminder that Jewish continuity depends not only on great leaders but on ordinary children who remain steadfast.
Classical sources reinforce this point. Rashi notes that Ephraim’s descendants would produce great leaders, while Menashe embodied continuity. Ramban insists that Yaakov’s crossing of hands was not a rejection but an adaptation, with each grandson blessed according to his path. Midrash Rabbah teaches that the gesture itself was a sign that transmission must always be tailored.
Rabbi Leff applied these lessons to the modern American Orthodox experience. Just as Ephraim and Menashe grew up in Mitzrayim yet remained faithful, so too must Jewish youth in America learn to thrive in a culture that does not always share their values. For Rabbi Leff, the blessing is constant: the strength to remain true wherever Jews find themselves.
This emphasis shaped his teaching and leadership. In sermons, he reminds communities that exile is not only a historical condition but a present reality. In classrooms, he urges students to see themselves as Ephraim and Menashe. These grandsons of Yaakov remained steadfast even amid pressures to assimilate. Rabbi Leff’s voice carries the conviction that resilience is not mere survival, but active fidelity.
Kiruv and Presence: Dr. Luchins’s Emphasis
Dr. David Luchins focuses on another facet: embrace and outreach. Where Rabbi Leff emphasizes constancy, my father‑in‑law emphasizes presence. Ephraim and Menashe remind us that Jews can look like the world around them and still belong. Transmission, for him, means meeting each person in their own context and affirming: “Banai hem – they are my children” – still.
Classical sources highlight this theme. The Midrash teaches that Yaakov’s blessing was not only about lineage but about inclusion. Even in Mitzrayim, Ephraim and Menashe were counted as part of the mesorah. The gesture of crossed hands symbolizes that transmission must reach beyond the expected, extending blessings to those who might otherwise feel overlooked.
This theme of inclusion became the heartbeat of Dr. Luchins’s life’s work. In NCSY, he saw the power of kiruv – reaching teens who felt distant, meeting them where they were, and reminding them that they belonged to Am Yisrael. For him, continuity was not only about strengthening those already committed, but about drawing in those who stood at the margins.
This perspective shaped his leadership and his teaching. He often reminds students that Torah transmission is not about uniformity, but about accessibility. Just as Yaakov blessed each grandson differently, so too must communities bless each child according to their circumstance. For Dr. Luchins, kiruv is not a “program”; it is a way of living that whispers to every Jew: “Wherever you are, you are still mine.”
Two Facets of One Torah
Rabbi Zev Leff at the author’s wedding.
At first glance, Rabbi Leff’s emphasis on resilience and Dr. Luchins’s emphasis on kiruv might seem to pull in different directions. One stresses holding firm against the pressures of exile; the other, opening arms to those who feel distant. Yet in truth, they are not contradictions. They are two facets of one Torah, two expressions of the same blessing.
Yaakov’s crossed hands in Parshas Vayechi remind us that blessing is never cast in a single mold. Ephraim and Menashe were both blessed, but differently. Rashi teaches that Ephraim was destined for greatness, while Menashe embodied continuity. Ramban insists that Yaakov’s gesture was not a rejection but an adaptation. Midrash Rabbah sees in the crossing of hands a sign that transmission must always be tailored.
The same truth discerned by the commentators was alive in Rabbi Stauber’s classroom. One student carried the teaching into resilience, the other into outreach. Together, they show that continuity requires both constancy and embrace. Torah transmission is not uniform; it is braided. It is the threads of resilience and embrace woven together into one living Torah.
NCSY as Transmission
The classroom was the seed, but the field was NCSY. Both the Leffs and the Luchins families carried Rabbi Stauber’s teaching into the movement that has shaped generations of Jewish youth. NCSY is not only an organization; it is a living transmission, a place where constancy and embrace are braided together.
From Rabbi Leff’s perspective, NCSY gives Orthodox teens strength to hold fast to Torah identity while growing up in America. It provides the structure, the community, and the resilience needed to remain steadfast in a culture that often pulled in other directions.
From Dr. Luchins’s perspective, NCSY is a vehicle of kiruv. It reaches out to teens who feel distant, meeting them where they are, and reminding them that they belong to Am Yisrael. It is not only about strengthening those already committed, but about drawing in those who stand at the margins.
Together, these two approaches reveal how NCSY embodies the facets of Yaakov’s crossed hands. It braids resilience and outreach, constancy and embrace, into one mission. What began in Rabbi Stauber’s classroom became a national force, shaping lives and weaving continuity across generations.
Resilience and Kiruv in the Land
Each summer, the Leffs and the Luchins meet again in Israel, drawn together by youth programs that bring American teens to the land of their ancestors. What began in Rabbi Stauber’s classroom grew into a rhythm of life, renewed year after year in Eretz Yisrael.
From Rabbi Leff’s standpoint, these programs strengthen young Jews to hold fast to Torah even when they return to the Diaspora. Immersed in the land, surrounded by Jewish culture and history, teens discover the resilience needed to remain steadfast once they go back home.
From Dr. Luchins’s standpoint, the summer programs embody kiruv. They reach out to teens who may feel distant, offering them an experiential, joyful, and affirming connection to their heritage. Standing at the Kotel, hiking through the Galil, or learning Torah in Yerushalayim, these teens are reminded that they belong.
Though the Luchinses have been more deeply involved in organizing and leading these programs, both families remain part of the same braided mission. In Israel, the crossed hands of Yaakov find new expressions of resilience and outreach intertwined in the land itself. Each summer, transmission is renewed: resilience and outreach, constancy and embrace, braided together in the land promised to our forefathers.
Transmission Through Friendship and Family
Decades have passed since the lessons in Rabbi Stauber’s classroom, yet these two “boys” remain close as ever. Their children are friends; their wives are friends; their lives are still intertwined. That, too, is transmission. Torah is carried not only in books and classrooms, but in relationships that endure across generations.
In ParshasVayechi, Yaakov’s blessings to his sons were not abstract words; they were seeds of tribes, paths that would remain bound together even as each followed its own way. So it is with these families. Their enduring closeness shows that continuity is not only about what we teach, but about how we live with one another.
Friendship itself becomes a form of transmission. Shared meals, shared summers, shared commitments are woven threads that bind Torah into daily life. Continuity is preserved not only in institutions, but in the bonds that hold families together across decades.
The Broader Lesson for Today
The story of Ephraim and Menashe in Parshas Vayechi is not only about two brothers in Mitzrayim, nor only about two boys in Rabbi Stauber’s classroom. It is about us. It is about how Jewish continuity is carried forward in every generation, through constancy and embrace, steadfastness and outreach.
Communities today face the same dual challenge. On the one hand, we must strengthen those already committed, giving them the resilience to remain steadfast in a world that often pulls in other directions. On the other hand, we must reach out to those who feel distant, reminding them that they belong, that they are part of the covenant, that they are still our children.
Just as families bless their children each Shabbat with the words, “May Hashem make you like Ephraim and Menashe” and understand that each child has different needs and circumstances, leaders must also tailor their transmission to each circumstance, each client, each employee. Like Yaakov crossed his hands, we must too. Continuity is intentional, braided from resilience and kiruv, constancy and embrace.
The lesson of Vayechi is timeless: Torah transmission is not uniform, but faithful. It adapts to each child, each generation, and each circumstance, and is like crossed hands, embracing all while remaining one Torah, eternal and whole.
We Are One Torah with Many Transmissions
We are one Torah with many facets. From Rabbi Stauber’s classroom to NCSY Shabbatons, from summers in Israel to enduring friendships, the teaching of Vayechi has been carried forward. Two boys heard the same words, each of them reflecting a different facet of the same truth. I must stress that NCSY is only one facet of kiruv for the Ephraims and Menashes, alongside other organizations, mentors, classrooms, summers, friendships, and families.
Yaakov crossed his hands to bless his grandsons, showing that continuity is not uniform but is tailored. Ephraim and Menashe remind us that survival in exile requires both constancy and embrace. Rabbi Leff and Dr. Luchins remind us that transmission is lived not only in classrooms, but in movements, in summers, in friendships, and in families.
Crossed hands in Vayechi are resilience and kiruv. With one Torah, and many facets, all bound together in our mesorah.
July 10, 2026 
