What happens when you have more than one wife

Over the last few weeks I've written about the complicated nature of the relationship between Yaakov, and Rachel and Leah and the permutations that had in Joseph's seemingly underhanded dealings with his brothers. In essence, I wrote that Joseph wanted Jacob to admit to his sons, once and for all, that he, Jacob, was at the heart of the problem, that he was unwilling – or at least had been unwilling to concede that he loved Rachel over his other wives, that she was the only wife for him, and that essentially, Joseph and Benjamin were her only two children, and that he always harbored a visceral pain, and remorse about the fact that Leah had been appended to his family. It seemed to be a pain that he bore to the very end, that on the one hand sowed horrible conflict, but on the other, the future, in all of its very forms of the Children of Israel, something evidenced more than ever by the unique nature of each and every tribe as manifested by Jacob's heartfelt words of wisdom to his children on his deathbed. No, they were not blessings, these were the words, the verse teaches that Jacob shared with his children before he passed, these were the words he shared before he blessed them – but in the midst of all of this, he caps off his words of wisdom – and subsequent blessings, with the following directive:

Then he instructed them, saying to them, “I am about to be gathered to my kin. Bury me with my ancestors in the cave which is in the field of Ephron the Hittite, the cave which is in the field of Machpelah, facing Mamre, in the land of Canaan, the field that Abraham bought from Ephron the Hittite for a burial site— there Abraham and his wife Sarah were buried; there Isaac and his wife Rebekah were buried; and there I buried Leah— the field and the cave in it, bought from the Hittites.”

For each of the forefathers, he could say that they buried their wives, or rather, in the passive voice, that they were buried with their wives. For Jacob, that was not the reality, he could not say that he was buried with his wife. Jacob did tell Joseph, upon asking him to vow to bury him with his parents, that Rachel had died suddenly, far from Efrat, the nearest town, and that he had had no choice but to bury her on the side of the road, due, presumably to both the arduousness of the journey and the respect he wanted to accord her person, similar to the custom of Jerusalem, to bury one's loved one on the day of passing.

What seems to be fascinating is that the fulcrum of leadership hinges around the respect accorded to Rachel, and the very sacrosanct intimacy between Jacob and Rachel. Reuven deprived Jacob of whatever he had left of Rachel's memory, impetuously moving his own father's bed, causing him to lose his firstborn rights. That incident appears in the Torah directly after Rachel's passing. Like I shared in previous weeks, when Jacob told his sons and first and foremost, Judah, that he had only had one wife – "My wife bore me two sons" – it was no less than a bombshell, disturbing the delicate balance, revealing the hidden truth, the sounds of silence "that voices never share," echoes they could never dare to bare. And then, in an instant, Judah realizing the import of Jacob's words, sacrificed his own life to save Benjamin's, signifying – in harsh and macabre terms – that for Jacob, Benjamin's life was more dear than Judah's, a true act of self-sacrifice that earned him kingship and greatness for evermore.

What becomes evident, thus, is that in Jacob's words of wisdom, there are a few central axes. There is a birthright that had always been given, not necessarily to the eldest son but to the one most capable of actualizing Avraham's vision of loving kindness; it was a birthright, perhaps, Reuven deserved, but which he could not earn; Jacob shares his love to Reuven, telling him, Reuven, "You were my firstborn son, and I loved you more than anything, but I could not trust you to lead my other children, you simply didn't prove yourself, time in and time out. You didn't have what it takes."

Joseph does in fact receive the double portion:

And now, I assign to you one portion more than your brothers, which I wrested from the Amorites with my sword and bow.”

Yet Judah, likewise, even seemingly receives more than Joseph. Likened to a lion, he receives kingship, wealth, domination for evermore, but not domination that causes others to cringe, but which empowers and inspires, enriches and blesses, giving others hope and faith.

This complex dynamic is what the sages are referring to when they use the term, shivtei kah, or the tribes of God, because in essence, through each of these polarities, functions and realities, each and every tribe can shine; that notwithstanding, the central axes of Jacob's parting words revolve around merit, predestination, and earned rights – the ability to achieve one's mission, and the failure to do so, and how all of life as a people, and individuals, hinge on that very fulcrum, realizing what our responsibilities are, and having the mettle to work to bring them to the fore, to do our small part in making the world a better, more edified and improved place.