Genesis 48

The author once again makes use of the passive voice in verse 1--someone (who?) tells Joseph that his "father is ill." In all likelihood, some now-forgotten messenger brought Joseph the news; if said messenger is in heaven, I wonder if he or she feels miffed about being overlooked in the Bible. But to be honest, that's how most of us will end up--absent from any historical record and wiped from the collective memory. Even a composer like Antonio Salieri, lionized in his time, faded into obscurity after his death; it was only because of the fictionalized play Amadeus by Peter Shaffer that many people today know who he is. Even if you accomplish mighty feats, there will always be some Mozart who's better than you. Although I don't strive for fame myself, I sometimes have fleeting desires to "leave a legacy" of some substance. However, it is only by following God's plan for us that we can leave a legacy of true value, a legacy that we may never be aware of ourselves.

I suppose I should get back to the chapter after that didactic little aside. Jacob tells Joseph that he will bless Joseph's two sons, Manesseh and Ephraim. After he says this, he sees the sons in question and asks Joseph "Who are these?" (verse 8). This is one of those "senior moments" that can make some of us young folks snigger immaturely, but remember, we'll all reach a point sooner or later when we start looking all over the house for our glasses only to realize hours later that they're perched comfortably on our foreheads. (And yes, I realize that Jacob had probably never seen Joseph's sons before, but still, I think a more apposite question to ask would be, "And are these your sons?")

In verse 11, Jacob says, "I never expected to see your face again, and now God has allowed me to see your children too." If that doesn't warm your heart, it's probably because you're standing or sitting somewhere cold.

Against Joseph's wishes, Jacob favors the younger son, Ephraim, over the eldest, Manesseh, by placing his right hand on the former and his left hand on the latter. Although I'm right-handed myself, I've never understood the logic behind the disparagement of the left hand. (After all, the word "sinister" used to also mean "on the left-hand side.") Jacob continues his proclivity for younger siblings; not only was he a younger brother himself, but he also preferred the younger Rachel to the older Leah. I'm the oldest out of all my siblings, but I think that, while birth order may have a subtle influence on how you're treated (oodles of baby pictures for the eldest and, in some cases, more leniency toward the youngest), there's nothing inherently inferior or superior about the eldest sibling. We no longer bestow all our inheritance on the firstborn (which, in some cases, led the younger siblings to become more shrewd, motivated, and entrepreneurial to survive), one societal change that I think has been for the better. And as Biblical stories and experience show, the order in which one was born does not determine whether one will be a scoundrel, a saint, or, like most of us, something in between.