VaYechi: Kindness and Truth

As Jacob’s days drew to a close, he called for his son Joseph.

“My son,” he said, “I have one final request. Do for me chesed v’emet—kindness and truth. Do not bury me in Egypt.”

Joseph nodded. “I will do as you say, Father.”

“Swear to it,” Jacob insisted.

And Joseph, solemn and resolute, vowed to fulfill his father’s dying wish.

At first glance, it seems a simple request. But Jacob’s words, carefully chosen, merit closer inspection. He asks his son for chesed v’emet—kindness and truth. On the surface, these seem like opposites: chesed, the generosity of a freely given favor, and emet, the weight of truth, the obligation that binds us to our word. How could one act embody both?

The Sages offered a resolution: the mitzvah of burying the dead transcends all other acts of kindness. It is chesed shel emet—true kindness. Why? Because the deceased can never repay you. It is a favor given without expectation of return, a pure act of love.

 

But the Maggid offered a different perspective, one presented—as usual—with a parable.

The Promissory Note

Ezra was a man of means, quite comfortable with his wealth. He had a friend, a good man but one who was drowning in debt. Ezra wanted to help his friend, but there was a problem. His wife.

She wasn’t a cruel woman, but she kept a tight hold on their finances and had little patience for charity cases. If she caught wind of Ezra’s charitable inclinations, she would put an end to it at once.

So, Ezra hatched a plan. He called two witnesses into his study and, before their eyes, signed a promissory note: in three months, he would pay his friend ten thousand dollars.

Now, it was no longer charity. This was a legal obligation. His wife, formidable as she was, could not dispute it.

Ezra’s act was both kindness and truth. His heart was moved by chesed. But by binding himself legally, he also created a commitment—emet.

The Oath of a Son

Jacob knew that Joseph, his beloved son, would want to honor his father’s dying wish. But he also knew Pharaoh. And Pharaoh, ruler of Egypt, would not allow the embalmed body of his viceroy’s father to be buried far away in Canaan.

Unless Joseph could say, “I gave my word. I swore an oath. I have no choice.”

And indeed, when the time came, Joseph stood before Pharaoh and spoke plainly: “My father bound me with an oath.”

Pharaoh, ever mindful of law and obligation, had little choice but to reluctantly agree. “Go. Bury your father as he made you swear.”

Jacob’s wisdom was clear. His request was for an act of chesed—a son’s love for his father. But by making Joseph swear, he made sure it also carried the weight of emet—a binding obligation.

Like Ezra’s financial gift to his friend, it was kindness wrapped in duty—allowing Joseph to honor his vow and bury his father in the ancestral cave that Abraham had purchased in Hebron.

 (Adapted from Mishlei Yaakov, pp. 103-104)