ועתה שני בניך הנולדים לך בארץ מצרים עד באי אליך מצרימה לי הם אפרים ומנשה כראובן ושמעון יהיו לי
Now, your two sons, who were born to you in the land of Egypt before I came to you in Egypt, shall be mine; Ephraim and Menashe shall be mine no less than Reuven and Shimon. Bereshit 48:5
The Mishna in Eduyot (2:9) makes the following observation in the name of Rabbi Akiva:
A father endows his son with comely appearance, strength, riches, wisdom, longevity and “mispar hadoroth lefanav” (the number of generations before him). And this is the secret of redemption, as it says, “He proclaimed the generations from the beginning.” (Isaiah 41.1).
There is indeed a lot of evidence that the genetic code affects the child’s physical appearance and intellectual capacity. In addition, economic and other circumstances, together with the environment at home, influence much of the child’s future. But what is meant by: “mispar hadoroth lefanav?”
In our day and age, it is becoming harder and harder for different generations to communicate. The radical changes which are taking place in technology and science, together with major changes in outlook make it nearly impossible for parents and children to speak the same language. The generation gap widens all the time; we can foresee a day when parents and children will relate to each other as complete strangers.
Jews, as no other nation, have been confronted with this problem. Our nearly 4,000 year history has constantly reminded us of the danger of our children losing interest and commitment to our common heritage. Avraham has difficulties in conveying his mission to his son Yishmael; Yitshak has great problems in getting his message across to his two sons, Yaakov and Esav. Yaakov himself does not seem to escape this problem either, and becomes the unintentional initiator of a lot of bitterness between his children, because he seems to favor one over the others.
In all these cases, it is misapprehension that causes the problem. Words and even body language and gestures take on new forms and meanings. This can be clearly demonstrated in the case of the “many colored garment” which Yaakov gave to Yosef. According to Malbim, this garment was given to Yosef with the explicit purpose of being used only when serving his old father (Yosef was the only one at home). In no way was the intention to show any favor to Yosef. The brothers’ mindset, however, was such that they were not able to grasp this and consequently they misread the situation with disastrous consequences. The cultural environment in which the brothers operated, i.e. the society at large, had by now given a different meaning to this kind of gesture.
In exactly the same way, parents today experience great frustration when they suddenly realize that their children completely misunderstand them because they translate their parents’ words into a foreign context (and so vice versa).
There seems to be only one way in which we can overcome this problem: by creating a psychological language that delves deeper than the general cultural and sociological environment in which children find themselves. Human beings are indeed deeply influenced by their surroundings, but, on a deeper level, they seem to carry a kind of psychological gene which can create bridges spanning many generations.[1] This may be what Carl Gustaf Jung meant when he spoke of the archetype, a kind of a primordial mental image which keeps recurring in a nation and envelopes us psychologically in our natural religious inner life. Whatever this “gene” may consist of, it will have a real effect only when it is constantly re-activated and relived. This is done by making sure that the past does not become outdated; if anything, it must be “fore-dated.”
And here we discover the purpose of Jewish learning and practice. Jews do not study the past because of what happened, but because of what is happening and what will happen.
In Jewish education, Avraham is not a mythical figure, but an ever present inspiration. We experience his tribulations and his wanderings ourselves. We travel with him to Canaan and we tremble when we stand with him on the mountain where he is about to sacrifice Yitshak. We escape with Yaakov, and we share the prison cell with Yosef and stand next to him when he is appointed second in command of Egypt. We lead the Jews in the wilderness together with Moshe and compose the psalms together with King David. Slowly we enter into a world with its own language, we share in the solemnities of the “great ones,” dream their dreams and become their companions. Here, there is no longer a generation gap but a “fraternity of the committed”[2] which overcomes all the superficial pressures and external pulls of society.
This explains why Yaakov seems to relate much better to his grandchildren than to his own children. He establishes a most remarkable communication with Ephraim and Menashe. There are no tensions and no jealousy. He literally bridges the generation gap when he declares to Yosef, “Now your two sons, who were born to you in the land of Egypt before I came to you in Egypt, are mine. Ephraim and Menashe shall be mine, like Reuven and Shimon.”[3] He blesses them, learns with them and no doubt must have played with them. Indeed Yaakov is called Yisrael Sava, “Israel the old one” which may also mean Yaakov the grandfather par exellence.[4]
Why does he relate better to his grandchildren than to his children? I suggest that this is due to the fact that it is only at an older age that he meets his grandchildren. His trials, tribulations and his life experience have made him into a man of great wisdom. He has learned from the mistakes of youth and inexperience. Now, in his old age, he has developed into a well-balanced person, and it is under these conditions that he meets his grandchildren. The tranquility which he now experiences makes him into a great educator. This he was not able to offer to his children, however much loved all of them.
For this reason he could not have the same impact on his children as he had, years later, on his grandchildren. His children still saw him in his “raw” state, while his grandchildren saw him as a refined and highly distinguished personality. In this way, he became not only the unique grandfather and educator but he fulfilled the mishnaic statement of “mispar hadoroth lefanav;” he connected the later generations with the earlier ones in an unusual covenant of fraternity. The limitations of time were replaced with the power of eternity. Not for nothing does the Jewish Tradition require parents to bless their children with the blessing of a grandfather. It is indeed the secret of the redemption.
Questions to Ponder from the DCA Think Tank
- Is it possible that Ephraim and Menashe, having one degree of separation from Yaakov, find it easier to relate to him because he is a more abstract figure, and relate to him on their own terms instead of the more direct way a child relates to their parent? Similarly, could looking back at Avraham provide that same benefit of abstractness, as an opportunity to hold a mirror up to our own life story, with the added closeness of knowing that his story is mine as well?
- Has there actually ever been a change in communication and understanding between parents and children? Could there be a spectrum of variation? What differences children with immigrant parents experience, who don’t use the same language to communicate? For example, a Farsi speaker moving to an English speaking country, and having English speaking children.
Notes
[1]. Jung introduced the term “collective unconscious,” as different from the “personal unconscious.” He wrote: “The collective unconscious, therefore, as the ancestral heritage of possibilities of representation, is not individual but common to all men.” The Structure and Dynamics of the Psyche (New York: Pantheon Books, 1960) p. 152.
[2]. A phrase used by Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik in a talk delivered on March 20, 1974, as quoted by Aaron Rakeffet-Rothkoff in The Rav: The World of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Ktav Publishing House, Inc., 1999, p. 186.
[3]. Bereshit 48.5
[4]. Bereshit Rabbah 70.1
Rabbi Nathan Lopes Cardozo
Rabbi Dr. Nathan Lopes Cardozo is the Founder and Dean of the David Cardozo Academy and the Bet Midrash of Avraham Avinu in Jerusalem. A sought-after lecturer on the international stage for both Jewish and non-Jewish audiences, Rabbi Cardozo is the author of 13 books and numerous articles in both English and Hebrew. He heads a Think Tank focused on finding new Halachic and philosophical approaches to dealing with the crisis of religion and identity amongst Jews and the Jewish State of Israel. Hailing from the Netherlands, Rabbi Cardozo is known for his original and often fearlessly controversial insights into Judaism. His ideas are widely debated on an international level on social media, blogs, books and other forums.