Our parsha this week is Vayechi, Hebrew for “And [Jacob] Lived.”  Joseph promises Jacob that he will bury him in Canaan. On his deathbed, Jacob blesses his grandchildren, Ephraim and Menashe, and then blesses his sons with the legacies he hopes they each carry on for future generations. Jacob recites the Shema prayer, dies, and is embalmed. Joseph affirms to his brothers that he has forgiven them for their misdeeds. Ending the first book of the Torah, Beresheet, Joseph dies with the request that his bones will be brought to Canaan in the future, thus setting the stage for our story next week to begin in Egypt.

As we reflect on this week’s portion, we are reminded of the Jewish value of continuity, l’dor v’dor—from generation to generation—and more poignantly, our connection to one another, across time and space.

Rabbi Mijal Bitton shares a beautiful reflection about this week’s Torah portion, especially as it relates to “the surge,” rise in Jewish engagement post 10/7, particularly those who did not feel engaged or connected prior to Hamas’ attack in Israel. She shares, “Jacob lies on his deathbed. A midrash imagines the scene: as Jacob lay dying, his sons proclaimed their faith with the words Shema Yisrael. The sons say: Shema Yisrael—Hear oh Israel, hear our father; Hashem Elokeinu, Hashem Echad—the Lord is our God, the Lord is One. These words are so familiar and beloved by us that we forget how radical and how consequential they are.”

“The Shema binds three things: loyalty to a parent, faith in God, and loyalty to one another (expressed through “our God”). It binds faith to belonging. You can struggle with your siblings. You can struggle with God. You can doubt, question, and feel uncertain. But you can never opt out of your parents. You cannot stop being Jacob’s child.”

“The Surge is not Jews encountering Judaism for the first time. It’s Jews remembering something they didn’t know they’d forgotten. It’s a form of tacit, inherited knowledge that resurfaces when the conditions that enabled forgetting are stripped away. October 7 shattered the illusion that our deepest commitments are endlessly optional. And that recognition, once it happens, resists silence—once you hear your father calling your name.”

And so we ask ourselves: How am I connected already? In what ways do I want to be connected? How will I strengthen my connection community this year?

At the end of reading a book of Torah, it is customary to say, “hazaak, hazak, v’nithazek—be strong, be strong, and will be strengthened.” May we continue to grow from strength to strength as individuals and as a community.