5 min read

Three Deathbed Wishes That Shaped Israel's Return

Jacob made Joseph swear an oath. Simeon confessed he had wanted Joseph dead. Moses came back to a country built on both stories.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The father who refused Egyptian soil
  2. The oath Joseph did not want to swear
  3. The brother who confessed at his own death
  4. Moses walked back into a country built on both stories

The father who refused Egyptian soil

Jacob had seventeen good years in Egypt with Joseph. Then his body failed, and he called the one son who could actually do something about a burial. Not Reuben. Not Judah. Joseph, because Joseph held a vizier's seal and could speak to Pharaoh in a language Pharaoh would respect.

"If I have found grace in thy sight," he said, "bury me not, I pray thee, in Egypt."

He gave reasons. A man in Jacob's position, making this request from a dying bed in a foreign country, knew he only had one chance to make the argument. He did not want vermin from Egyptian soil at his body. He did not want his descendants to confuse Egypt with a holy place because their father lay there. He did not want his grave turned into an idolater's shrine. And he wanted to lie beside Abraham and Isaac at Machpelah, so that on the day of resurrection he would not have to roll underground from Egypt to Canaan while others rose where they already rested.

He asked three times. A man of Jacob's stature should not have needed to ask once. But he was old, dependent, in someone else's country. Even a patriarch depends on favors in a strange land.

The oath Joseph did not want to swear

Joseph said yes immediately. But Jacob was not satisfied with a simple yes. He said: swear to me. Put your hand under my thigh and swear.

The tradition that Louis Ginzberg gathered in his Legends of the Jews, drawn from centuries of rabbinic commentary, says Joseph resisted the oath. Not because he intended to bury his father in Egypt, but because the oath would bind him to negotiate with Pharaoh for the right to leave the country, and Pharaoh might refuse. Joseph would then be in violation of an oath to his dying father, which was a worse situation than not having sworn at all.

Jacob told him to swear anyway. The man who had wrestled with an angel and walked away with a limp had spent his whole life trusting the outcome to God while doing everything in his human power to secure a result. He was not going to stop that practice on his deathbed.

Joseph swore. Jacob died comforted. And then Joseph had to go explain to Pharaoh that he needed a funeral leave of absence to carry a patriarch's body back to Canaan across a desert.

The brother who confessed at his own death

Simeon died knowing what he had done. He had been the one, when Joseph went out to find his brothers in the fields at Dothan, who had first proposed killing him. The others modified the plan to selling instead. Simeon had wanted blood.

The legends say that as Simeon lay dying in Egypt he called his children around him and made a confession. He told them exactly what he had done and exactly why it was wrong. He told them the sins he had committed against Joseph were the source of his own suffering, and he instructed them to avoid the same error. Do not let envy into the house. Envy drove him to want his own brother dead. Envy was a poison that killed the person who drank it.

He did not ask them to tell Joseph. He asked them to remember the lesson. It was not a scene of reconciliation with the brother who had, in the end, saved the whole family from famine. It was a private accounting, done at the end of a long life, to make sure at least his children would not repeat his worst moment.

Moses walked back into a country built on both stories

Generations later, when the burning bush sent Moses back to Egypt, he was walking into a country shaped by both of these deathbed scenes. Jacob's bones were there, waiting. The memory of Simeon's confession was there, passed down through his children. The whole architecture of the descent into Egypt and the need for an exodus out of it was built on a stolen birthright, a near-murder, a forgiving brother, a dying father's oath, and an older brother's private accounting.

Moses did not know all of this in detail. But he was carrying it anyway. The rabbinic tradition Ginzberg assembled insists that the Exodus was not a rescue from random suffering. It was the conclusion of a family story that had been running for four generations, and every deathbed wish in that story had shaped the path Moses was now walking.

He went back to Egypt to bring a promise out with him. The promise had been made before the slavery began. Jacob had made Joseph swear it. The oath was still running.


← All myths

From the tradition

Sources

3 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, I. Joseph, Jacob's Last WishLegends of the Jews

It’s a powerful thing, steeped in tradition and emotion. And it’s at the very heart of the story of Jacob and Joseph.

The narrative goes that Jacob enjoyed seventeen years of peace and happiness with Joseph in Egypt, a reward, so to speak, for the seventeen years Jacob had dedicated to raising his beloved son. But as readers often find, life is a tradition of joy and sorrow. According to Legends of the Jews, Ginzberg tells us that, "the wicked experience sorrow after joy; the pious must suffer first, and then they are happy, for all's well that ends well, and God permits the pious to spend the last years of their lives in felicity."

When Jacob felt his time drawing near, he summoned Joseph. He bypassed his other sons, entrusting this crucial task to Joseph alone, because Joseph held the power to fulfill it. “If I have found grace in thy sight,” Jacob implored, “bury me not, I pray thee, in Egypt.”

It wasn't just a preference, it was a deep-seated conviction. Jacob declared, "Only for thy sake did I come down into Egypt. Carry me out of the land of idolatry, and bury me in the land where God hath caused His Name to dwell." He wanted to rest in the place where four husbands and wives would be buried, with him being the last.

Why was this so important to Jacob? The text gives us several reasons, each layered with significance. He didn't want his body exposed to the vermin that he knew would infest the Egyptian soil. He feared his descendants might mistakenly view Egypt as a holy land, leading them to settle there permanently.

And there’s more. Jacob worried that his grave might become a site of idolatrous veneration, a dangerous path to tread. As the verse says, the same punishment is appointed for the idols worshipped as for the idolaters that worship them.

But beyond avoiding Egypt, Jacob yearned to be buried in the Holy Land. Why? Because, in the Messianic time, those buried in Palestine would awaken to new life without delay. Those buried elsewhere would face a long, arduous journey beneath the earth to reach the Holy Land before their resurrection.

God had promised Jacob at Beth-el, "The land whereon thou liest, to thee will I give it, and to thy seed." Jacob wanted to "lie" in the Holy Land, solidifying its claim for his descendants. He even requested Joseph to sprinkle some Egyptian earth over his body, a symbolic gesture.

Jacob repeated his wish three times, a detail the text attributes to good breeding. He, a man of immense stature, found himself dependent on the favor of his son in a foreign land. "Even a king," the text says, "depends upon favors in a strange land." Jacob, the man for the sake of whose merits the whole world was created, had to ask services of others while he was among strangers.

When Joseph promised to fulfill his father's wish, Jacob bowed before him, acknowledging Joseph's power in that moment. "Bow before the fox in his day," the saying goes, "the day of his power."

But Jacob wasn't content with just a promise. He insisted on an oath, a formal swearing by the sign of the covenant of Abraham. Joseph initially resisted, feeling it was beneath them. "Thou treatest me like a slave," he protested. "With me thou hast no need to require an oath. Thy command sufficeth."

Jacob, however, persisted, fearing Pharaoh might command Joseph to bury him in the royal sepulcher. Joseph relented, swearing to bury his father in Palestine and even pledging to ask his brothers to carry his bones there after his own death.

Observing the Shekinah (שְׁכִינָה), the Divine Presence, above his bed, Jacob bowed his head in gratitude. He was thankful that all his sons were worthy, progenitors of the twelve tribes. This was a blessing neither Abraham nor Isaac had fully experienced, as they both had children deemed unworthy.

According to Midrash Rabbah, until Jacob's time, death had always come suddenly. Jacob had pleaded with God for a warning, a chance to set his house in order. "O Lord of the world," he had prayed, "a man dies suddenly. But if a man first fell sick. he would have time to set his house in order."

And so, Jacob fell ill, granting him the opportunity to impart his final wishes. The sickness troubled him deeply, a culmination of a life filled with hardship and struggle. He had labored tirelessly with Laban, and his encounters with the angel and Esau, though victorious, had left him weakened.

Jacob’s story reminds us of the power of legacy, the importance of honoring our ancestors, and the enduring human desire to find meaning, even in death. It makes you wonder, what final wish would you impart, and what lengths would you go to in order to fulfill such a profound request?

Full source
Legends of the Jews, II. The Sons Of Jacob, Simon's Admonition Against EnvyLegends of the Jews

It’s a powerful emotion, one that can lead us down paths we never thought we’d tread. The Torah, our sacred text, is full of stories that explore these complex human emotions, and the story of Simon, the second son of Jacob, is a potent example.

As Ginzberg recounts in Legends of the Jews, Simon, on his deathbed, just like his brother Reuben, gathers his sons to confess his sins and offer a vital warning. Where Reuben cautioned against unchastity, the vice that had led to his own downfall, Simon focuses on the sin that plagued him: boundless envy of Joseph.

"I was the second son," Simon says, according to the legend, explaining that his mother Leah named him Simon, meaning "the Lord has heard," because God had heard her prayer. He describes himself as strong, fearless, and hard-hearted. "And in the days of my youth," he confesses, "I was jealous of Joseph, for our father loved him more than all the rest of us, and I resolved to kill him."

The weight of that confession. To admit, at the end of your life, that you plotted to kill your own brother because of jealousy. That "the prince of temptation" sent a "spirit of jealousy" to take hold of him, blinding him to the fact that Joseph was his own flesh and blood, and causing him to disregard even his father, Jacob.

But as the story goes, God intervened, sending an angel to save Joseph. When Simon went to Shechem, while Reuben was in Dothan, their brother Judah sold Joseph to the Ishmaelites. Reuben, upon his return, was heartbroken, for he had intended to rescue Joseph and return him to their father. But Simon, consumed by his envy, was enraged that Judah had allowed Joseph to live! His anger, we're told, lasted for five long months.

How did Simon overcome this consuming emotion? The legend tells us that God restrained him, causing his right hand to wither for seven days. It was then that Simon realized the divine hand at play, understanding that what happened was for the sake of Joseph. He repented, praying for his hand to be restored and for the strength to resist defilement, envy, and folly. For two years, he dedicated himself to fasting and the fear of God, realizing that true redemption from jealousy could only come through this deep reverence.

When Jacob noticed Simon's sadness, Simon feigned a liver ailment, hiding the true source of his sorrow: the knowledge that he was responsible for Joseph's sale. Later, in Egypt, when Joseph, now a powerful figure, bound Simon as a spy, Simon accepted it as just retribution. But Joseph, in his goodness and compassion, bore no resentment, loving Simon as he loved the others, honoring them all with gifts of gold, cattle, and produce.

Simon's final words to his sons are a plea: "Do ye love one another, each one his brother, with a clean heart, and remove the spirit of jealousy from the midst of you." He also echoes Reuben's warning against unchastity, calling it the "mother of all evil," separating humanity from God. He even alludes to prophecies found in the writings of Enoch, foretelling that Simon's descendants would be corrupted by unchastity and would mistreat the sons of Levi. However, they would ultimately fail against Levi, for Levi's war would be the war of the Lord. As a result, Simon's descendants would be scattered, with none rising to be a judge or king, just as Jacob had prophesied.

After his admonitions, Simon died at the age of 120. His sons placed him in a coffin of imperishable wood, carrying his remains to Hebron in secret during a war between the Egyptians and Canaanites, a practice followed by all the tribes. Only Joseph's bones remained in Egypt, guarded by the Egyptians who feared the darkness and misfortune that their magicians predicted would follow their removal.

Simon's story serves as a powerful reminder of the destructive nature of envy and the importance of brotherly love. It shows us that even in the face of deep-seated jealousy, repentance, and a commitment to living a life guided by faith and love, can lead to redemption. It also emphasizes the power of forgiveness, as demonstrated by Joseph's unwavering love for his brothers, even after their betrayal. So, the next time you feel that pang of envy, remember Simon's story and strive to choose love and understanding over bitterness and resentment.

Full source
Legends of the Jews, IV. Moses In Egypt, The Return To EgyptLegends of the Jews

It wasn't just a simple "Okay, God, I'll go." According to the Legends of the Jews, as retold by Ginzberg, Moses' agreement came with conditions. He wanted assurances that his requests would be fulfilled. And God, in His infinite wisdom, granted almost everything, except immortality and entry into the Promised Land.

One of Moses’s biggest concerns? Those old enemies, Dathan and Abiram, the ones who'd driven him out of Egypt in the first place. God reassured him that they were no longer a threat, reduced to poverty and insignificance.

Before heading back, Moses had to honor his oath to his father-in-law, Jethro. He wouldn't return to Egypt without Jethro's blessing. So, he went back to Midian, and Jethro, thankfully, gave his consent freely.

Here's where it gets interesting. Moses packed up his wife and children to go with him. Jethro questioned this, saying, "Those who are in Egypt are to leave it, and you want to take more there?" Moses had a good reason, though. He argued that when the Israelites were redeemed and gathered at Mount Sinai to hear God's words, his sons should be there too. Jethro conceded, saying, "Go in peace, enter Egypt in peace, and leave the land in peace."

So, off Moses went, with his family, on a very special donkey. This wasn't just any donkey; it was the same one that carried Abraham to the Akedah, the binding of Isaac, on Mount Moriah. And, get this, it's also said to be the same donkey the Messiah will ride upon at the end of days! Quite a pedigree. But even with all this, Moses was still hesitant. He traveled slowly, worried about the Israelites' reaction. He imagined them saying, "We know our slavery is supposed to last 400 years, and the end isn't here yet!" He figured delaying his arrival might be a good strategy.

God wasn’t thrilled with this plan. He reminded Moses that Joseph had prophesied the oppression would only last 210 years. According to the tradition, Moses' lack of faith led to a pretty intense experience on the road.

The angels Af and Hemah appeared and swallowed Moses whole, right down to his feet! He was only released after Zipporah, his wife, circumcised their son Gershom with remarkable speed – like a "bird," the text says – and touched Moses' feet with the blood of the circumcision.

Why hadn't Gershom been circumcised earlier? Well, Jethro had stipulated that their first son should be raised as a Gentile as a condition of the marriage. Talk about complicated family dynamics!

After being freed, Moses, being Moses, actually attacked the angels, killing Hemah. But Hemah’s angelic host put up a good fight.

Meanwhile, back in Egypt, Aaron heard the same Divine voice Moses heard in Midian, but with a different instruction: to go into the wilderness to meet Moses. As the tradition teaches us, God's voice speaks in marvelous ways, and the same revelation can be understood differently in different places.

The reunion between the brothers was joyful. There was no envy or jealousy between them. Aaron rejoiced that God had chosen Moses, and Moses was happy that Aaron was to be the high priest. God knew their hearts. Moses had even worried about encroaching on Aaron's prophetic role! But God reassured him that Aaron would be happy for him.

As a reward for his generous spirit, Aaron was later permitted to wear the Urim and Thummim upon his heart. The tradition states: "the heart that rejoiced at the exalting of a brother shall wear the Urim and Thummim." These were objects used for divination, signifying Aaron's close connection to the Divine.

The brothers met, embraced, and then. a little tension. Aaron questioned why Moses was bringing his family to Egypt, echoing Jethro's earlier concern. Moses, recognizing Aaron's point, sent his wife and sons back to Jethro. Both brothers showed great magnanimity, each putting the needs of the community above their own desires.

And here's a beautiful detail: Moses immediately shared all his teachings and revelations with Aaron, even the secret of the Ineffable Name, the holiest name of God, which he had received on Mount Horeb.

Then, in obedience to God's command, they gathered the elders of Israel. Moses performed miracles to prove he was the redeemer. But, it wasn't the miracles themselves that convinced the elders. It was the words Moses spoke, the words God had used to announce the coming redemption: "I have surely visited you, and seen that which is done to you in Egypt" (Exodus 3:16).

These words were a secret sign, passed down through generations. Jacob had revealed it to Joseph, who shared it with his brothers. The last surviving brother, Asher, told it to his daughter Serah. She was still alive when Moses returned.

The elders went to Serah and asked her if Moses's words matched the secret sign. When she confirmed they did, everyone believed in him. The redemption was at hand!

Moses then invited the elders to join him in confronting Pharaoh. But fear got the better of them. One by one, they slipped away until only Moses and Aaron remained. Their punishment for this lack of courage? They weren't allowed to ascend Mount Sinai with Moses later on. They could only go as far on the path to God as they had been willing to go on the path to Pharaoh.

So, what do we take away from this story? It's a reminder that even the greatest leaders have moments of doubt and hesitation. It highlights the importance of family, loyalty, and the power of shared knowledge. And it shows us that even when fear holds us back, God's plan can still unfold, even if we miss out on some of the journey. It’s a deeply human story, filled with both divine intervention and very human struggles. What does that say to us about the nature of leadership, and of faith?

Full source