The expression Vayechi, as opposed to Vayeshev or Vayagar, describes a life of contentment. Finally, after enduring the battles with Eisav, the treachery of Lavan and the loss of Yosef, Yaakov, who described the days of his life to Pharaoh as having been being few and hard (47:9), is allowed to enjoy the last seventeen years of his life together with his family in Goshen, free of all the troubles that plagued him up till now.
Despite the travails of the past, Yaakov did not regret the hardships he experienced. They were all part of the mosaic called life without which he would never have reached this peaceful destination. Using the phrase “shenos chayav – the years of his life,” which incorporates all of life’s experience, the Torah is telling us that the totality of Yaakov’s life of 147 years was informed and enriched by the challenges that confronted him during his first 130 years. The day in the Jewish calendar begins at night: “And there was evening and there was morning, one day” (Bereishis 1:5). That is because one can only fully appreciate light after one has experienced darkness and one can only fully appreciate happiness after one has experienced sadness.
But the tranquility Yaakov enjoyed in Mitzrayim was tinged with the reality of the Diaspora. As comfortable as life was in Egypt, there was one big drawback. The doors were locked. Pharaoh would not let them out. The permission to leave, even temporarily to bury Yaakov in the Land of Canaan, was conditioned on them leaving their small children and all of their wealth behind in Goshen so as to guarantee their return to Egypt (50:8). That is why the parshiyos of Vayigash and Vayechi are not separated by any space in the Torah scroll, because Yaakov, his family and their descendants were locked in Egypt for the next few centuries.
Yaakov adjured Yosef to carry his remains out of Egypt and bury them in the Me’aras Hamachpelah, in the land of Canaan where his forefathers and mothers are buried (47:29-31). Despite the burden this would place on Yosef, who would have to arrange for the embalmment of his father, a process which would take forty days, followed by another thirty days of mourning in Egypt (49:50), followed by the long trek to the Me’aras Hamechpelah, (50:6-14) followed by another seven days mourning (50:10), Yaakov put himself through none of this trouble for Rachel. “When I was coming from Padan, your mother Rachel died next to me on the road, a short distance from Ephrat, and I buried here right there (sham).” Not only did Yaakov not give Rachel the honor of burying her in the Me’aras Hamachpelah, something he insisted on for himself and an honor that was accorded Leah, but he did not even have her buried in the nearby town of Ephrat.
This was because Yaakov understood two things. First, there was no room for both Leah and Rachel to be buried in the Me’aras Hamachpelah. There was room only for one of them. He also knew that if Rachel would have been alive to ask, she would have waived that privilege in favor of Leah, just like she did when she handed Leah the secret identifying signs that were meant to enable Yaakov to distinguish between the two sisters on the night of the marriage.
Second, the words “ve’ekberah sham” are meant to identify not only a place. They also identify a time. There would come a time when Rachel’s presence would be needed right then and there, sham. Her descendants would pass by her tomb on the way to exile after having been chased out by Nebuzaradan. Rachel would walk out of her grave and beseech G-d to have mercy on them (Rashi to 48:7). As we read in Yirmiyahu 31:14: “A voice is heard in the heights, crying, bitter weeping; Rachel weeping for her children. She refuses to be consoled over her children who are gone. G-d says, restrain your voice from weeping and your eyes from tears for you will be rewarded for your deeds. Your children will return from the land of the enemy. There is hope for your future says G-d, your children will return to their land.”
When Yosef received the sad news that Yaakov was gravely ill and about to die, he rushed to his father’s bedside with his two sons Menashe and Ephraim (48:1). These two grandchildren were especially dear to Yaakov because they had been born and raised in Egypt in his absence and, despite the polytheistic culture of Egypt, Yosef, faithful to the traditions he received from his father, had managed to bring them up as G-d fearing people. But when he was requested to bless them, Yaakov asked, “Mi eileh – Who are they?” When using the word “eileh,” Yaakov was referring to those who would in the future worship idols like the golden calf and would chant, “Eileh Elohechah Yisrael – This is your god, Yisrael.” Yaakov saw that descendants of Ephraim, like Yeravam and Achav, and descendants of Menashe, like Yehu, would subvert the people of Israel and turn them into idol worshipers (Rashi to 48:8). Why are these people worthy of my blessing?
Yosef responded by showing his father the document of marriage and the kesuba which proved that he, Yosef, did what he could to establish and raise a family within the framework of Jewish law. (Rashi to 48:9). And after all, why was Yaakov focusing on these characters? What about Yehoshua and Gidon who were also descendants of Ephraim and Menashe? Why not focus on them? And after some reflection, Yaakov did. He blessed Ephraim and Menashe and all of their descendants, both the bad with the good.
Indeed, the entirety of Israel deserves a blessing, even though, despite one’s best efforts, there is no guarantee that all of one’s descendants will follow in Yaakov’s path. But that is no reason to withhold blessings.