5 min read

Naphtali Left His Children No Silver, No Gold, Only One Command

At 132, Naphtali told his children he was leaving no silver and no gold. What he left instead was one commandment he called the easiest thing in the world.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. What He Would Not Leave Them
  2. Why God Requires Service
  3. Walk According to Nature
  4. The Burial Request

What He Would Not Leave Them

When Naphtali gathered his children he told them first what they should not expect. He would not divide his silver among them. He would not divide his gold. He would not specify which possession went to which son or how the flocks should be allocated or who was entitled to what. He was done measuring property. He had one hundred and thirty-two years of perspective on what property was actually worth, and the conclusion he had reached was that it was not the thing to talk about in the time left to him.

What he had for them instead was a commandment. One. He called it not a hard matter, not a thing they could not do, but the easiest thing in the world: fear God, serve Him, follow after Him.

Why God Requires Service

His sons asked the question immediately. If the Maker of heaven and earth created everything that exists, what does He lack that our service could supply? Why does the infinite require anything from creatures who can hold nothing of their own for more than a human lifetime?

Naphtali answered without hesitation. He does not lack anything. Every creature lacks Him. He did not create the world from want. He created it so that human beings would recognize where they actually stood in relation to what sustained them, and so that none of them would treat a neighbor in ways they would refuse to be treated themselves. The service is not for God's benefit. It is for the benefit of the person doing it, who, in the act of serving something greater than themselves, becomes capable of treating the people around them as though those people also matter.

This is the theology of creation that a dying man at one hundred and thirty-two years old considered the most important thing he knew: not a claim about God's power, which needed no arguing, but a claim about what creation was for and what the fear of God actually accomplished in a human life. It oriented the person who practiced it outward rather than inward, toward others rather than toward the accumulation of what could be measured and divided.

Walk According to Nature

He told them to look at the sky. He told them to look at the earth, the sea, the patterns in everything God had made. The sun, the moon, the stars did not change places or run ahead of their appointed times. The earth, the water, the firmament moved in the order they had been given. Even the spirits of a human body moved in a set way, at a set pace, within limits that the body's maker had established.

The person who pressed against those limits, who tried to do in the darkness what should only be done in the light, who moved the members of the body in ways they were not made to move, broke something that required more than a fast to repair. This was not a speech about ritual purity. It was a speech about the grammar of the world, which had a logic to it, and about what happened to a person who spent their life arguing with that grammar instead of reading it.

He told them to observe the times. He told them to use each hour for its proper work, the daylight for labor and the night for rest, and not to allow either one to colonize the other beyond its purpose. A simple instruction. The kind of instruction that sounds obvious until you notice how rarely people actually follow it, and how much of the damage in an ordinary human life comes from doing the wrong thing at the wrong time and calling it productivity or necessity.

The Burial Request

When the commandment had been given and the speech was done, Naphtali asked his children for one thing: bury him in Hebron. He wanted to lie in the cave of Machpelah, beside his grandfather Abraham, his grandmother Sarah, his grandparents Isaac and Rebekah, his parents Jacob and Leah. He wanted the company of the people who had come before him in the long chain of the covenant, who had each received the same instruction, under different names and in different settings, and had spent their lives trying to follow it.

He had said that God needs nothing from any creature. He had said the one commandment was the easiest thing in the world. And then he had asked to be placed in the ground next to the people who had been given the same easy commandment and had found, across the full span of their lives, that it was not easy at all and that the attempt to follow it was the only work that mattered.


← All myths

From the tradition

Sources

2 sources

The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Legends of the Jews 2:62Legends of the Jews

"I give you no command concerning my silver, or my gold," Naphtali said to his sons. He wasn't concerned with material wealth or earthly possessions. Instead, his focus was on something far more profound. "And what I command you is not a hard matter, which you cannot do, but I speak unto you concerning an easy thing, which you can execute." So, what was this "easy thing"?

"I give you no commandment except regarding the fear of God, that you should serve Him and follow after Him."

Why, the sons of Naphtali wondered, does God require our service?

Naphtali answered with a powerful truth: "He needs no creature, but all creatures need Him. Nevertheless He hath not created the world for naught, but that men should fear Him, and none should do unto his neighbor what he would not have others do unto him." It's not about God’s needs, but about the very purpose of creation, the essence of a moral and ethical life: to treat others with the same respect and consideration we desire for ourselves. A simple yet profound principle, mirroring the core of the Golden Rule, a concept found across many cultures and spiritual traditions.

Then his sons, seeking reassurance, asked, "Father, hast thou observed that we strayed from the ways of the Lord to the right or to the left?" They wanted to know if they had already gone astray.

Naphtali replied, "God is witness, and so am I witness for you, that it is as you say." He affirmed their current path, but his concern lay with the future. "But I fear regarding future times, that you may depart from the ways of the Lord, and follow after the idols of the stranger, and walk in the statutes of the heathen peoples, and join yourselves unto the sons of Joseph instead of the sons of Levi and Judah."

Why this specific warning? Why single out the sons of Joseph?

The sons of Naphtali pressed him: "What reason hast thou for commanding this thing unto us?"

Naphtali revealed his concern: "Because I know that the sons of Joseph will one day turn recreant to the Lord, the God of their fathers, and it is they that will lead the sons of Israel into sin, and cause them to be driven away from their inheritance, their beautiful land, to a land that is not ours, even as it was Joseph that brought the Egyptian bondage down upon us."

This is a fascinating and somewhat harsh statement. It suggests a prophetic insight into the future, a concern that the descendants of Joseph might lead Israel astray, echoing the original Joseph's role in bringing about the Egyptian enslavement. It's a reminder that even those who appear righteous can inadvertently set a course that leads to hardship.

What resonates most in Naphtali's final words is the emphasis on living a life of ethical conduct and devotion to God, not for God's sake, but for our own. To act justly, to treat others with compassion, and to remain vigilant against influences that might lead us away from these principles. These are timeless lessons that hold relevance for us today. What will our legacy be? What wisdom will we impart to future generations?

Full source
Legends of the Jews 2:70Legends of the Jews

After giving his children all sorts of life lessons – He asked them to carry his body to Hebron, so he could be buried near his ancestors. Then, in a rather poignant and human moment, he ate and drank with joy, covered his face, and passed away. His sons, of course, honored his wishes, fulfilling their father’s last command.

What about Gad? His story is a bit… different. In the hundred and twenty-fifth year of his life, Gad gathered his sons around him, ready to share his final thoughts. "I am the ninth son of Jacob," he began, "and I was a valiant shepherd." According to the ancient texts, the sons of Jacob were more than just names in a genealogy. They were individuals with unique strengths and failings.

Gad recounted his days as a shepherd, bravely protecting the flocks. "I guarded the herds," he said, "and when a lion or any other wild beast approached, I pursued it, gripped it by the foot, flung it a stone's throw from me, and killed it thus." This paints a vivid picture of Gad as a strong, capable protector.

Then, the story takes a turn. Gad brings up an old conflict with Joseph. "Once, for a space of thirty days, Joseph tended the flocks with us, and when he returned to our father, he told him that the sons of Zilpah and Bilhah slaughtered the best of the herds, and used the flesh without the knowledge of Reuben and Judah." It sounds like Joseph, even then, had a keen eye for detail – and perhaps a bit of a talent for stirring things up.

Gad admits he was furious with Joseph, even years later. "I was wroth with Joseph for his talebearing, until he was sold into Egypt. I would neither look upon him nor hear aught about him, for to our very faces he blamed us, because we had eaten the lamb without seeking the permission of Judah first. And whatever Joseph told our father, he believed."

Wow. Can you feel the lingering resentment? It’s a stark reminder that even in these foundational stories, there's sibling rivalry, hurt feelings, and long-held grudges. Even on his deathbed, Gad is still wrestling with this past conflict. This isn't some sanitized saintly figure; it's a man with flaws, still confronting events that happened decades prior.

What does this tell us? Perhaps that forgiveness is a lifelong process. Or that even at the end of our lives, we may still be working through old wounds. The stories of Naphtali and Gad, in their own ways, offer a glimpse into the complexities of human nature, even within the sacred narratives of our tradition. It makes these ancient figures feel a little more relatable, a little more like us.

Full source