Leaving a Legacy
讘专讗砖讬转 诪讟:讗-讘
讗讜址讬执旨拽职专指讗 讬址注植拽止讘, 讗侄诇-讘指旨谞指讬讜; 讜址讬止旨讗诪侄专, 讛值讗指住职驻讜旨 讜职讗址讙执旨讬讚指讛 诇指讻侄诐, 讗值转 讗植砖侄讈专-讬执拽职专指讗 讗侄转职讻侄诐, 讘职旨讗址讞植专执讬转 讛址讬指旨诪执讬诐. 讘讛执拽指旨讘职爪讜旨 讜职砖执讈诪职注讜旨, 讘职旨谞值讬 讬址注植拽止讘; 讜职砖执讈诪职注讜旨, 讗侄诇-讬执砖职讉专指讗值诇 讗植讘执讬讻侄诐.
讘专讗砖讬转 专讘讛 爪讞:讙
讗诇注讝专 讘谉 讗讞讜讬 讗诪专 诪讻讗谉 讝讻讜 讬砖专讗诇 诇拽专讬讗转 砖诪注 讘砖注讛 砖讛讬讛 讬注拽讘 讗讘讬谞讜 谞驻讟专 诪谉 讛注讜诇诐 拽专讗 诇砖谞讬诐 注砖专 讘谞讬讜 讗诪专 诇讛诐 砖诪注讜 讗诇 讬砖专讗诇 砖讘砖诪讬诐 讗讘讬讻诐 砖诪讗 讬砖 讘诇讘讘讻诐 诪讞诇讜拽转 注诇 讛拽讘状讛 讗状诇 (讚讘专讬诐 讜) 砖诪注 讬砖专讗诇 讗讘讬谞讜 讻砖诐 砖讗讬谉 讘诇讘讱 诪讞诇讜拽转 注诇 讛拽讘状讛 讻讱 讗讬谉 讘诇讘谞讜 诪讞诇讜拽转 讗诇讗 讛壮 讗诇讛讬谞讜 讛壮 讗讞讚 讗祝 讛讜讗 驻讬专砖 讘砖驻转讬讜 讜讗诪专 讘专讜讱 砖诐 讻讘讜讚 诪诇讻讜转讜 诇注讜诇诐 讜注讚
Genesis 49:1鈥�2
And Jacob called to his sons and said, “Come together that I may tell you what is to befall you in days to come (literally, ‘the end of days’). Assemble and listen, O sons of Jacob; Listen to Israel your father . . . “
Genesis Rabbah 98:3
Eleazar b. Achavay said: From [this passage] here, [the people of] Israel merited recitation of the Shema’. When Jacob our Patriarch was departing from the world, he called to his 12 sons and said to them: ‘Listen to the God of Israel, your father in heaven. Is there perhaps division in your hearts about the Holy Blessed One?’ They replied: ‘Hear, O Israel (Deut. 6:4a) our father! Just as there is in your heart no division from the Holy Blessed One, so too is there none in our hearts. On the contrary 鈥� The Lord is our God, the Lord is One!‘ (Deut. 6:4b). [Jacob] likewise uttered with his lips, saying, ‘Blessed be the name of God’s glorious sovereignty forever and ever!’
What kind of legacy will we leave when we die? Much of our fear of dying is similar to Jacob’s, as described in this week’s Torah portion and further imagined in the midrash above. We worry that our ideals and our values will not survive among the next generation.
While these ancient texts attest to this legitimate concern, at least one contemporary scholar, the Jewish philosopher Simon Rawidowicz (1897鈥�1957), has contended that our anxiety about the uncertain future in fact represents a hallmark of our heritage:
In the beginning, Israel’s message was that of a universal optimism鈥攕alvation, happiness, and perfection for all peoples . . . In more recent times, most Jewish ideologies and political movements were dualistic inasmuch as they saw the world divided, Israel and world torn apart鈥攏ay, still more: Israel itself was to them no more . . . Both made the fundamental mistake of dividing the people of Israel into two parts. It must always be considered one and indivisible: yisrael ehad. As long as one part lives in a hell, the other cannot live in paradise . . . what we need most at present is a dynamic Jewish realism that will . . . show us the real meaning of that fear of the end that is so inherent in us. A people dying for thousands of years means a living people. Our incessant dying means uninterrupted living, rising, standing up, beginning anew . . . if we are the last鈥攍et us be the last as our fathers and forefathers were. Let us prepare the ground for the last Jews who will come after us, and for the last Jews who will rise after them, and so on until the end of days. (Israel, The Ever-Dying People-and Other Essays, pp. 62鈥�63)
How might we recover the optimism of our people’s origins, rather than succumbing to this recent paralysis of divided hearts and fractious pessimism? Jacob and his sons, in their call and response in the midrash above, exemplify the power of affirming God’s eternal presence and power. Perhaps if we listen more intently to the words of the Shema’, we may rediscover the purpose of our calling as Jews, which is to demonstrate God’s infinite unity through unending love for our nation, Torah, and Creation.
