This article was first published in Hanassi Highlights for parashat Vayechi, 1 January 2026.
The berachah
we give our children each week comes from our parsha: “Yesimcha Elokim ke’Ephraim e’chiMenashe.” But why these two? What did Ephraim and
Menashe embody that made them the model of Jewish blessing for all generations?
And why does the Torah emphasize a reversal of order—Ephraim blessed before
Menashe—just when we might have expected the family to have fully internalized
the dangers of favouritism and division?
Rav Yaakov Kamenetzky zt”l offers a profound reframing. The berachah was not necessarily an affirmation that Ephraim and Menashe were more deserving, but rather a recognition that they were the ones who most needed it. They were the first generation born entirely outside the home of their ancestors, raised at the heart of Egyptian civilization rather than in the tent of Yaakov Avinu. Their lives force us to ask a question that would echo throughout Jewish history: What happens when Jewish identity is no longer inherited by atmosphere, but must be forged by effort?
Rav Kamenetzky saw in them the prototype of the Jew in exile—not the Jew who fails, but the Jew who succeeds,
and in doing so, risks forgetting that exile is a passageway, not a
destination. Menashe, whose name reflects forgetting, was still anchored in
Yosef’s yearning for home, a child named for loss but raised in memory.
Ephraim, however, whose name celebrates flourishing in galut, carried
the subtler danger: that cultural success can create the illusion of cultural
belonging. Prosperity can blur perspective more than persecution.
Even their names reflect the challenge. Rav Kamenetzky notes
that the letter פ (pey) appears repeatedly in Egyptianized names of
the era—Pharaoh, Potiphar, Tzafnat Pe’aneach, Puah. Ephraim’s name, he
suggests, bore the phonetic fingerprint of Egypt. This was not a critique, but
a diagnosis: Ephraim’s identity was more exposed, more blended, more tested—and
therefore demanded reinforcement. Yaakov crossed his hands and reversed the
order not to select a favourite, but to fortify the child carrying the greater
cultural gravity.
Yaakov’s message was not nostalgic, but strategic. Remember
who you are before you attempt to change the world. Flourish, but don’t forget
the soil you grew from. Thrive outward, but remain tethered inward.
Yosef completes this mission. As his life draws to a close,
he binds his descendants to history through oath, instructing them to carry his
bones out of Egypt when redemption finally comes. The Jewish people would
ultimately journey toward geulah accompanied by two Aronot: the Aron
HaBrit, carrying Torah, and the Aron of Yosef, carrying mesorah—purpose
moving ahead, identity reaching back.
Ephraim and Menashe teach us that exile begins not when Jews
suffer, but when Jews forget. And redemption begins when we ensure we will
remember—remember who we are, where we came from, and to where we are
ultimately returning.
