When Love Wins (Vayechi)
The final Torah portion in the Book of Genesis, Parashat Vayechi, brings us to a powerful close in the narrative of our ancestors. This is the moment where we shift from seeing ourselves primarily as family to preparing for the grander, more complex identity of a nation, which begins with next week’s Parashat Shemot. The transition from family to nationhood is not only geographical, as we move from Canaan to Egypt, but also existential — it redefines how we understand our collective destiny.
In this week’s portion, we confront the death of Jacob. His passing is more than the loss of a patriarch; it is a seismic moment for his children. It is the moment they must grapple with the question that has haunted generations in the Book of Genesis: Is there enough love for all of us?
Genesis is filled with stories that suggest love is scarce. From Cain and Abel to Isaac and Ishmael, from Rachel and Leah to Joseph and his brothers, we see rivalries fueled by the perception that only one can inherit the blessing, that only one can be chosen, only one can be loved most. This perception has sown heartbreak and division, not only in our sacred text but in our lived experience. It is often at the end of an ancestor’s life, when inheritances are declared, that these tensions come to a head. Bitterness over material possessions — money, furniture, precious items — reveals deeper wounds, all rooted in the fear that love is limited.
But let us affirm something essential: love is not a finite resource. Love expands. It overflows. With the birth of my own children, I have felt my heart stretch beyond what I thought possible. As our families grow, please God, and as we heal as a people, let our capacity for love continue to expand.
In Vayechi, after Jacob’s death, his sons fear what will come next. Will Joseph, who has shown them grace but also tested them with cruelty, take vengeance now that their father is gone? They beg Joseph to honor Jacob’s wish for forgiveness. And in a moment that feels almost miraculous, Joseph reassures them. “Do not fear,” he says. “I will provide for you and your children.” Here is the brother who was hurt, who was betrayed, who now holds power — and yet he chooses compassion. For one moment in our story, the cycle of generational trauma and dysfunction is broken. Love wins.
This moment matters deeply. It challenges the scarcity mentality that so often shapes our relationships. If you have siblings, you may know how this mentality plays out, unless you have been lucky, or intentional, or both. Perhaps you have worked hard to grow into friendship, to model care, to give each other time and grace. Even then, it is no small task to believe — and act as though — there is enough love for everyone.
So let us not miss what happens in this portion. For a moment, the family stands together, and there is enough. Isn’t that extraordinary? Isn’t it extraordinary that there is enough love? Because, of course, there is. Of course, there is.
Our hearts can grow. Let us pause here and place a hand over our hearts. Feel its rhythm. Recognize that what you are touching is limitless love. There is a teaching that after the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem in 70 CE, the Holy of Holies moved to the human heart. This is the nexus of infinity. How much love lives in infinity? More than enough. More than enough.
As Jacob dies, his children are given a chance to do better — to break the cycle of scarcity, to choose abundance, to care for one another. We know the story ahead will not be linear. There will be setbacks and pain. But let us return, again and again, to this moment. Hand on heart, knowing that love is more than enough.