Between Ending and Beginning: Parashat Vayechi

Parashat Vayechi is a deeply symbolic portion. It not only brings the life of Jacob our

Patriarch to a close; it closes the entire book of Bereishit. And our sages teach us that

endings are never merely endings—they are always gateways to something new.

Bereishit is, essentially, a book of individuals and families.

Adam, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob. Intimate relationships: parents and children, siblings,

domestic conflicts, personal choices.

The Midrash (Bereishit Rabbah 68:12) points out that Bereishit describes how the world

was created and how a family was formed, but a people has not yet come into being. Even

Jacob’s sons are still an extended family, marked by tensions, differences, and wounds not

yet fully healed.

It is therefore significant that the book ends in Egypt, with Jacob and his sons still alive, yet

already standing on the threshold of exile.

Bereishit does not conclude with redemption, but with an open question.

Next week we begin reading the book of Shemot, which starts where Bereishit can no

longer continue.

\Shemot is the book of community, of peoplehood, of collective identity.

Rashi, at the beginning of Shemot, asks: Why does the Torah once again enumerate the

names of the children of Israel? And he answers: to teach us that even though they are

now a multitude, each individual is still counted and loved.

This is the great transition: from family to people, without losing the uniqueness of each

person.

It is no coincidence that Vayechi is always read near the turn of the year.

Like Jacob at the end of his life, we too find ourselves at a moment of reckoning.

The Zohar teaches that Jacob did not fear death, but rather leaving behind an incomplete

legacy. That is why he gathers his children and says: “He’asfu ve’agidah lachem” —

“Gather yourselves, and I will tell you what will befall you.”

The end of the year poses the very same questions to us:

What are we leaving behind? What have we learned? What remains unresolved?

At the same time, a new year begins. Our sages teach (Pirkei Avot 2:5): “In a place where

there are no men, strive to be a mensch.”

Each generation faces its own challenges, yet some are unmistakably ours:

The challenge of building community in an increasingly individualistic world.

The challenge of preserving identity without falling into rigidity.

The challenge of truly listening to the other—especially when the other is different from

us.

Shemot will teach us that we do not leave Egypt as isolated individuals, but as a people,

bound by mutual responsibility.

One of the most striking moments of Vayechi is Jacob’s blessing of his sons.

It is not a uniform or “equal” blessing. Each son receives different words—some of them

difficult.

Ramban explains that Jacob does not merely bless; he reveals.

He shows each son both his potential and his limitations.

Sforno adds a fundamental insight: blessing can only rest where a person has worked on

their character.

The Torah does not tell us that the sons changed magically because they received a

blessing. It suggests the opposite: blessing accompanies those who have already begun to

forge their own path.

How, then, do we forge our own destiny so as to be worthy of blessing?

This may be the central question of Vayechi—and of the beginning of a new year.

The Midrash (Tanchuma, Vayechi 10) teaches that Jacob wished to reveal the end of days,

but the Shechinah, the Divine Presence withdrew. Why? Because the future is not

received passively—it is built.

We forge our destiny…

…when we take responsibility for our choices,

…when we acknowledge both our strengths and our shadows,

…when we understand ourselves as part of something greater than ourselves.

Blessing does not create the path. Blessing rests upon a path already begun.

Vayechi leaves us standing between two worlds:

.between Bereishit and Shemot,

between the year that ends and the one that begins,

between who we are today and who we may yet become.

May we know, like Jacob, how to bless diversity;

like the children of Israel, how to become a people;

and like every new beginning, how to forge a destiny worthy of blessing.