Let’s turn our attention to the sons of Jacob, and consider their final moments, as described in Ginzberg’s Legends of the Jews.
We'll start with Levi. We read that he finished giving his sons his final instructions, and then, at the ripe old age of one hundred and thirty-seven – older than any of his brothers, mind you – he simply… passed away. It’s a quiet, almost understated end.
But then there’s Judah. Oh, Judah. His farewell is…well, let’s just say it's a little more robust.
According to Legends of the Jews, Judah's last words to his sons are essentially a highlight reel of his own incredible feats of strength and bravery. He begins by reminding them that he was his mother’s fourth son, and that she named him Judah, a name related to the Hebrew word for “thanksgiving,” because she was so grateful for him. "I thank the Lord that He hath given me a fourth son."
But then, then he launches into a series of boasts that sound more like a superhero origin story than a deathbed confession.
"I was zealous in my youth," Judah declares, "and obedient to my father in all things." Okay, good start. But hold on tight.
"When I grew up to manhood, he blessed me, saying, 'Thou wilt be king, and wilt prosper in all thy ways.'" So, he was told he would be king. Makes sense, right? This is Judah, after all, from whose line kings will eventually descend.
Then, the real fun begins. "The Lord granted me His grace in whatever I undertook, in the field and in the house." He could run like the wind, apparently: "I could speed as swiftly as the hind, and overtake it, and prepare a dish of it for my father."
He’s basically bragging about his hunting skills. A deer he could catch on the run? Easy. All the animals of the valley? No problem. A wild mare? He could outstrip it, hold it, and bridle it! We’re talking serious animal-wrangling prowess here.
But it doesn't stop there. Oh no. It gets wilder.
"A lion I slew, and snatched a kid from its jaws." He fought a lion and saved a baby goat! "A bear I caught by the paw, and flung it adown the cliff, and it lay beneath crushed." He body-slammed a bear off a cliff!
And just in case you weren't impressed yet: "I could keep pace with the wild boar, and overtake it, and as I ran I seized it, and tore it to pieces." He tore a wild boar to pieces while running!
Finally, because one can never have too many examples of superhuman strength, Judah tells his sons, "A leopard sprang at my dog in Hebron, and I grasped its tail, and hurled it away from me, and its body burst on the coast at Gaza." He threw a leopard so hard it exploded on the beach!
And to cap it all off: "A wild steer I found grazing in the field. I took it by its horns, swung it round and round until it was stunned, and then I cast it to the ground and killed it." He spun a wild steer around until it was dizzy and then… well, you get the picture.
What are we to make of Judah’s… spirited… farewell? Is it just bravado? Is it a father trying to inspire his sons to greatness, using himself as an example – albeit an extremely exaggerated one? Or is it a glimpse into the mindset of a legendary figure, a man who truly believed he was capable of anything?
Perhaps it’s a bit of all three. Perhaps, in his final moments, Judah wanted to leave his sons with a powerful image – an image of strength, courage, and unwavering confidence. Maybe he wanted them to remember him not just as their father, but as a hero.
Whatever the reason, Judah's last words offer a fascinating contrast to Levi's quiet departure. One fades away peacefully; the other goes out with a roar. And both, in their own way, leave a lasting legacy.