Parshat Beshalach: Actions of Faith

Pharaoh’s heart is hardened.  The armies of Egypt are in pursuit of the Israelites, to enslave our nation once more.  B’nei Yisrael, the children of Israel, cry out to God.  They cry out to Moses, seeing an inevitable death.  Moses comforts the people: Do not fear.  Stand fast and see the salvation of Hashem….Hashem shall make war for you, and you shall remain silent (Exodus 14:13-14).  Remain passive, says Moses, show your faith by standing still; fearless.

But Hashem objects: Why do you cry out to me!?  Speak to the children of Israel and let them journey forth! And you – (Moses) – lift up your staff and stretch out your arm over the sea and split it… (Exodus 14:15-16).  You, Moses, must take action, says God.  The people of Israel must move on!  Standing still at a time when your life is in danger is not an option.  Death is on the horizon, and all you can do is to sit in fear, praying, complaining, watching the enemy’s army approach!? 

In these verses leading up to the splitting of the sea, we see the push and pull of faith and action.  Moses instructs us in faith; God tells Moses: “faith is not always enough! You are leading the people to become a holy nation.  A holy nation must have faith, yes, but their actions must emanate their faith.  Faith is not stagnant, but a living and breathing part of each member of My holy nation.” King Solomon wrote, to everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heavens (Ecclessiastes 3:1).  The time at the sea was a time for actions!

What is recorded in this week’s parsha shows a mixture of reactions.  B’nei Yisrael cried out to Hashem (14:10).  Others complained to Moses (14:11).  Moses himself instructed the people to remain still (14:13-14, above). 

Nachshon ben Aminadav’s reaction, however, is the one that brought our redemption.  And yet is does not even make it into the Torah!  The midrash relates:

Nachshon leaped into the waves of the sea and went down into the waters.  In reference to him did King David state, Save me Hashem, for the waters have reached the point of taking my soul.  Hashem then told Moses, My friend is sinking in the sea and you are praying!?  Speak to B’nei Yisrael and they shall travel through the sea!

It is the action of Nachshon that merits God’s mercy on our entire nation.  It is Nachshon that is God’s friend.  Nachshon takes the first step, and God is there to greet him.  It is Nachshon who had enough faith to take action, and for that the sea split and the people of Israel were freed.  From Nachshon we learn that prayer alone is not enough.  Faith that prevents us from taking action is not the best form of faith.  Faith that leads to action, that makes us act with the knowledge that God is beside us in our every action, is the faith that we must seek.  

Parshat Bo: Behind the Laws

This week’s parsha breaks form.  We know there are ten plagues coming, but after the ninth and the introduction to the tenth, the Torah diverges to tell us of the laws of Passover.  From the sacrificial lamb to chametz (unleavened bread) the laws are dictated to us.  Why are these laws here, between the warning of the tenth plague – the death of the firstborn – and the actual execution of the plague? 

In regards to most of them, Sefer Hahinnuch states: “At the root of the precept lies the purpose to have us remember the miracles of Egypt.”  The author goes on to provide some other reasons specific to each mitzvah, but this seems to be the underlying reason throughout.  God certainly knows that, just as “man’s life is like a fleeting shadow” (Psalm 144), so too is our memory.  On a national level, just as the descendents of Ya’akov quickly forgot the God of their forefather’s while in Egypt, the Jewish slaves in Egypt and their redemption were liable to be forgotten by their descendents.  And on a personal level, just as Avraham repeated his “mistake” of calling Sarah his sister and the twelve brothers repeatedly immerse in sin, we too are liable to resort to old habits and forget about the path we should be taking in life.  So God provides a framework for us to remember, a framework to strengthen our connection to our history, and a framework to upkeep the moral fiber of our nation.  Adam and Chava lost what they were given in the Garden of Eden.  The generations leading up to Noah forsook their creator.  And the Jews in Egypt forgot the ways of our forefathers.  No longer, says God, will the world be “started over” by a flood or a change of location (out of Gan Eden).  Rather, it is now up to God’s most admired creation – adam (man) – to take responsible for the world.  In order to be charged with this responsibility, however, we must have a guide and the Torah is our guide.  God does not leave us empty-handed.  We do not accept His guide until Mt Sinai, but the commandments by which we must live are given to provide us structure in our first few days alone, in the desert, after leaving Egypt.

On the surface, the “structured” commandments that we are obligated to follow are just that: structure for a nation that doesn’t know what it means to be free.  But there is also a framework of morality behind them all.  We sacrifice the Passover offering to recall that we were slaves.  We eat the Passover offering to remind us that we were not always free to make such an offering.  We eat roasted food to eat like kings, to bathe in our freedom and remember that we are meant to be a holy nation.  We don’t eat chametz to remind us to be humble, to be grateful for what we have and not let our stature go to our head. And we retell the story of the Exodus to remember that we were slaves and should always be a voice against slavery, and certainly never enslave another nation. 

So that explains the placement of these Passover-related commandments.  But then, after the plague, our parsha ends with another commandment: the redemption of the firstborn.  This is something I have never understood.  Although the “redemption” of the firstborn is mostly symbolic – you give your child to the Kohen (priest) and then pay money to get your son back – it never seemed like a healthy practice.  Today, and likely for most people in the past, it has no practical effect on our life.  But I think my problem, or skepticism, about this commandment and practice was due to the lack of context I had for it.  In context, with the right intentions, it is actually a beautiful act to give up your firstborn child.  We receive the commandment on the heels of the tenth commandment, where God slew all Egyptian firstborns.  The commandment reminds us of the value of life…the life that Hashem has given to us and the life that He can take away.  Our life with which we have so much potential and so much distraction, so much room for growth and so much temptation to remain stagnant, so much ability to do good and so much ability to rationalize away our actions.  It is this life that God has endowed us with and will endow our children with.  For this, we pay just a small tribute to Him.  We dedicate the life of our firstborn child to Him who has blessed us to have that child. 

This entire parsha is, on the surface, a dictation of laws amidst the remaining plagues.  And with this stance they are, for that matter, outdated and irrelevant laws.  But a true reader of the Torah is always able to sense something deeper.  The text is just the waves on the shore with an entire ocean beyond it, ready to be explored.  This week, we are given mitzvoth that are meant to give us a healthy mental state of being, a necessary reminder of where we come from and where we are going in life, and the inspiration to make a difference in the world. 

Parshat Va'Eira: A Faithful God

There is a claim that Moses makes quite often as to why he is not the right person to lead the Jews out of Egypt.  That claim, however, I think may be more of an excuse.  “Ani aral siphatayim – I am a man of impeded speech” (Shemot 6:13 & 30).  On the surface this is a very plausible negative trait in a leader.  One must be able to effectively communicate and difficulty in this area is a severe disadvantage.  But if we remember Moses’ history, it is not a valid excuse.  Moses grew up as a prince in the house of Pharaoh.  Clearly Pharaoh, a father-like figure to Moshe, would understand the slurred speech of Moses; the speech impediment would be expected and not be a barrier because of his familiarity with it.  So why does Moses continually bring this up?

It is plausible that it is out of sheer fear – fear that God is speaking to him, fear that he won’t live up to God’s commands, fear of returning to Egypt and the house of his childhood, fear of reuniting with his real family.  Moses has no real excuse so he resorts to whatever he can think of, which happens to be an invalid reason.  We have all experienced our logic failing us and ridiculous things coming out of our mouths in unfamiliar situations.  But it was not just once that Moses used his speech impediment as a reason to not be the God’s spokesperson to Pharaoh, but many times.  Each time, God resolves the issue by appointing Moses’ brother, Aaron, as the spokesperson for Moses. 

I think that we can understand this problem through a d’var Torah by Rabbi Ronnie Cohen (found here).  In his short analysis of this week’s parsha he focuses on the importance of names: how they define us to ourselves and to others, how different names are used for different settings, etc.  In this week’s parsha, God appears as we know Him today, as Hashem/YHWH, for the first time.  It begins:

God spoke to Moses and said to him, “I am YWWH.  I appeared to Avraham, Yitchak, and Ya’akov as El Shaddei, but I did not make Myself known to them by My name. (Shemot 6:2-3)

Why does God reveal Himself to Moses in a different way than to our patriarchs?  Rabbi Cohen speaks of the universal and individual God of Bereshit, as compared to the nationalistic God of Exodus that we first encounter here in God’s conversation with Moses. He summarizes it as follows:

And the parallelism is that just as we can understand God as having said to Abraham, “This is such a momentous change for you, that we must mark it by changing your name,” here we can understand God as saying to Moses, “This is such a momentous change for how I am perceived in the world that we must mark it by changing MY NAME.  I will no longer be known as El Shaddai, as I was to the patriarchs, but I will now be known as YHWH.”  And indeed, today, and for the last 2000 years at least, it is to Adonai, YHWH, that Jews the world over address their prayers. 

Additionally, according to Rashi, this name of God that we use represents God’s attribute of faithfulness and keeping His promises (to the Jewish people). 

God is, for the first time, relating to the people in a way that shows we must have faith in Him.  (Certainly others had, historical, had faith; but it wasn't the primary way God related to the people, nor was this faith used as a comforting measure for previous generations.)  And this was not what Moses was expecting, nor what he was used to.  Moses was used to relating to God in a different way, not as leader of a nation.  Our patriarchs followed the path that God led them on but were never called upon to lead a nation.  Even Yosef, who was viceroy in Egypt, was not commanded to do so but did so because of circumstances that came about through events determined by the actions of man (although certainly God’s hand was hidden behind the scenes, it was not explicit like in the case of Moses).  So here is Moses, someone that may be fully prepared to be a servant of a personal God and a God that is concerned with the wellbeing of His world and the creatures in it.  He is completely stunned by the command to be a leader of a nation and to lead that nation out of slavery.  God tempers this shock by relating to Moses (and, subsequently, all people including us) as YHWH, a faithful God that can be relied upon.  A God that we can put our faith in and who has put His faith in the ability of man to choose the right path, to do the right thing, to learn from our mistakes and ultimately repair what was broken when Adam and Chava ate from the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden. 

But Moses doesn’t completely relate to God in this way at this time.  Later in his life he shows that he has developed the attribute of faith that is related through God’s new name.  For now, he is hesitant.  For this reason, God also provides Aaron as a spokesperson for Moses.  Moses’ only excuse for not wanting to represent the people before Pharaoh was his speech impediment and God made this a non-issue. 

And so begins our journey to relate to God, Adonai, YHWH, with faith.  Faith that He exists and faith that He is involved in our lives.  It is to this aspect of God that “Jews the world over address their prayers” – we pray to the God in whom we have faith, and we pray hoping that we can find faith in this God.  God revealed himself in a way that Moses was not ready to relate to, the way the Kind David so beautifully attached himself to in psalms:

Adonai is the stronghold of my life, whom shall I fear? (27:2)  Let the sea and all within it thunder, the world and its inhabitants; let the rivers clap their hands, the mountains sing with joy, at the presence of the Lord, for He is coming to rule the earth. (98:7-8) 

Where not the Lord my help, I would soon dwell in silence.  When I think my foot has given way, Your faithfulness, O Adonai, supports me.  When I am filled with worries, Your assurance soothes my soul. (94:17-19).

This Shabbat, let us make a special effort to find our faith in the faithful God who revealed Himself to Moses and to Whom we, the Jewish people, have put our hope, trust, and faith in for countless generations. We, and the world, could certainly use a little more.

Parshat Shemot: Moses as a Leader

And he (Moses) looked this way and that way, and when he saw there was no man, he smote the Egyptian.  (Shemot 2:12)

And so we are introduced to Moses.  The first, most influential and lauded leader of our people is introduced to us by recalling his murder of an Egyptian, after ensuring that no one was witness to his crime.  Not so, say our sages!  There was many a person around, but there was no man.  There was no one to stand up against the wrong being done to a Hebrew by an Egyptian.  No one was there to stop the suffering of the innocent.  No one was there to speak out against slavery and abuse.  “In a place where there is no man, strive to be a man” (Pirkei Avot 2:6).  Moses was a man, where there was no man

And this is the character of a true leader: the ability to stand up for what you know and feel is good and right on the inside, not just when in the company of friends but when surrounded by hostile enemies.  It is easy to say the right things from a pulpit and to write the right things from behind a news desk and even to feel inside what is right on the inside.  It is much harder to do what is right when surrounded by those who are doing wrong and it is even harder to live a life devoted to doing what is right.  Many people can live a good life, do many good things, and avoid doing wrong…but how many can live a life fighting for what is right, living and breathing good deeds?  I think in our first introduction to Moses we can see why it is he who becomes the representative of Am Yisrael to Pharaoh. 

 

Ehyeh asher Ehyeh – I shall be as I shall be (Shemot 3:14)

It is this name of God that Moses will invoke when speaking to the Jewish slaves in Egypt.  What is there in this mysterious name?  Ramban says that this name is used because of its future tense, because it relates to the people that He will be revealed to them over time.  I find that it is also somewhat of a statement of purpose.  God is today as he was yesterday and will be tomorrow.  It is not Him that changes, but our relation to Him that is constantly in motion.  Even having that relationship is in our hands.  God is everywhere, the Omnipresent, but we don’t have a relationship unless we reach out to Him just as He has put His hand in front of us.  The way we all relate to Him is different, as the Ba’al Shem Tov says in his commentary on the first blessing of the Amidah.  We say “God of Avraham, God of Yitzchak, and God of Ya’akov” because God was different through the eyes of all three…He was a personalized God that they related to in their own unique way. 

The same things rings true today.  I shall be as I shall be – God is there and it is up to us to find the way in which we best relate to Him. 

Bereishit: The First Book of the Torah

As I have been taking a journey through the Torah since we started a new annual cycle, my initial reaction to chapters of the Torah has been composed of many parts:

1. Wow… The language used in the Torah is something that, even in English translation, is so deep.  There is sense behind the words that they are more than mere words.  It is, nonetheless, just a sense but a sense that has indeed been backed up throughout the centuries and attributes to the “eternality of the Torah.” 
2. But… Even though this sounds nice, it is quite problematic.  Is it really true that our forefathers acted without consideration of their wives?  How does one who sleeps with a harlot produce the Moshiach?  
3. Huh?  Why is this laid out like this?  Why did Yosef’s dreams take place in this order?  Why did Ya’akov bless his sons in that order?  Why did Avraham call Sarah his sister?  And on and on.
4. Wait a second…this is familiar to something else we already saw.  Vayishlach – Eliezer, Isaac, Yitzchak, Yosef and others were all sent out as shluchim, messengers, using the same language.  Isaac and Avraham (twice) call their wives their sisters in the lands of foreign royalty.  Jealousy leads to horrendous acts, from Cain and Abel to Eisav and Yitchak to Yosef and his brothers.  

It is clear from both a simple reading of the text and an in-depth study of the history of the Torah pashiyot, that the whole story is not revealed.  Parts are missing, years are missing, things are left unsaid.  Trying to uncover what is “lost” in between the lines, in between the words even, has been the most intriguing part.  Sometimes I feel as if I can fill in the blanks myself, or with a concept – Jewish or otherwise – that I came across elsewhere.  Other times I need to dig for answers, sometimes going through many explanations before finding one suitable, sometimes never finding one suitable, and sometimes find them all suitable. 

What I really found surprising though was a major theme occurring throughout: challenge of God and the divisiveness of man.  The challenge of God’s supremacy begins with the first human beings, when Adam and Chava eat of the one forbidden tree.  Their children create the divisiveness of man that carries on throughout Bereishit, as Cain murders his brother Abel.  I believe this carries on throughout the entire Torah, but viewing Bereishit as its own book we can see the unity of man under God that results in ultimate success.  Where Adam and Chava, Noach, Avraham and Sarah, and many others failed, Joseph and his brothers succeeded.  Not without many bumps in the road, the sons of Yitzchak were able to find unity amongst each other and sovereignty under God.  But Moshiach does not come and the world moves on.  The brothers – the Jewish people of the time – come to practice ahavat yisrael and lead Godly lives in Egypt.  But the world is not complete until the verse: “Hallelu et Hashem kol goyim – praise God, all you nations” has come true; only then can the messianic era be reached.  That is something we are still working for today, while also working to regain both the ahavat yisrael and recognition of God that b’nei Yitzchak achieved. 

I think one positive step in the right direction would be to begin with a focus on ahavat yisrael and v’ahavta l’reyacha camocha – love of your fellow Jew and love your neighbor as yourself.  Both Jewish concepts, I interpret the first as necessary to create a harmonious and cohesive Jewish people and the later as a way of creating not just a functioning, but an ideal society.  Judaism places a strong emphasis on both our internal strengths and the necessity of being a part of the functioning world.  Joseph and his brothers show this when they cry over their reunion, lament their past misdeeds, and come together as a family in Egypt.  They live as a large Jewish family able to be successful in a foreign land, with a clear difference between them but no sense of disdain or disparagement of the “other” society in which they live. 

A look at Yosef and his brother’s lives in Egypt would benefit Jews from across the spectrum.  One the one hand we have the increasingly insular Orthodox communities that are out-of-touch with the world in which we live, unable to interact in secular society, disrespectful of religious differences, loathsome of those outside of their narrow world.   B’nei Yitzchak is just the opposite.  The sons of Isaac live in their own area for ease of keeping their customs, traditions, and beliefs strong, and raising their families with the values they want to emphasize.  But they interact with the Egyptians, they have functioning business and social relationships with them as necessary.  The Egyptians look down upon the Hebrews, but there is no indication of the Jews returning this enmity in Bereishit.  An ability to interact with others in a positive way is important for us and integral in our mission to perfect the world – as we are in this world for our tikkun olam (repair of the world), not tikkun am Yisrael (repair of the Jewish nation). 

But there are Jews on the other side of the spectrum that are just as out-of-touch with the world.  The secular, Reform, and other types of Jews don’t understand the importance of spirit and soul, God and religion.  Without this there is nothing, but there is a pervasive arrogance that so many people today show in the face of religious Jews and Christians.  They disregard the yoke of Heaven and live as if God’s existence – if they even recognize His existence – is a matter of no importance, a matter that has no relevance to their life.  This also is not the way of B’nei Yitzchak.  The sons of Isaac are deeply devoted to God.  They interact with the Egyptians but live separately because of the importance of their family structure, Jewish learning, traditional observance, and recognition of God everywhere.  Interaction with the “other” is important in Judaism in order to help instill morals, integrity and recognition of God into everyone.  This interaction is meaningless if, instead of showing others the beauty of living a life of God, we adopt the path of the secular and it makes us lose our way of life, lose connection to our Source of existence. 

The 3^rd Lubavitcher Rebbe said: “He who does not see God in every place, does not see God anywhere.”  This is a lesson for those on the right and those on the left.  While the ultra-Orthodox live an insular life with extreme emphasis on modesty and limitations on Western advancement, they must recognize that God is also in those who don’t dress the way they do, are educated different then they are, or advocate for different issues.  Those to the left, however, must also see God in the world, must recognize that He has a role in their lives and the lives of those they view as backward because of their faith.  And those of us in the middle; we too must see God in the life of those more religious than us and those less religious than us.  We must see God in our fellow Jew and in those who subscribe to another or no set of beliefs.  Seeing God in every place, in every action, might be the hardest thing to strive towards in life but it is an admirable aspiration to have.  To see God in every person, in every action, in every thought, in every culture.  To see the goodness that rests at the core of everything, the spirit that weaves together everything in existence…to that, I strive. 

Parshat Vayechi

This week’s parsha concludes the action-packed book of Bereishit.  It comes to an end with the death of Ya’akov, the last of our three primary forefathers, and Yosef, the center of more text than any other figure in Bereishit.  Before the description of their deaths, however, Ya’akov hands out twelve blessings.  The first is to Yosef’s sons, Ephriam and Menasha, and is the basis of the blessing every Jewish father gives to his son(s) before the Friday night Shabbat meal (the blessing for daughters relates to female Jewish figures).  We then have a blessing handed out to each of Ya’akov’s eleven sons.  I found each to be fascinating and the relation between them even more intriguing.  Rav Mordecai Elon also spends some time on this, particularly trying to understand the shortest blessing of them all, that given to Gad, and why Dan and Gad are blessed after Leah’s sons.  And, between the blessings, why does Ya’akov exclaim: I wait for your deliverance, O God! (Bereshit 49:18)

The Tzror ha’Mor gives an answer to this question as well: Shimshon (Sampson) will be Dan’s descendent.  When Ya’akov realized this he began to say I wait for your deliverance, O God, before realizing that, in fact, redemption was not destined to come through Dan and Shimshon.  But it was to be announce through Gad, “as the verse states, and he will raid [ya’ged] at their heel (Bereishit 49:19).  The word (ya’ged) is written in the Torah that Eliyahu, who is of the tribe of Gad, will tell of the salvation in the future.” 

What Rav Elon sees in this explanation – in Ya’akov’s ability to perceive that Shimshon would fail to be the messiah?  It is because of this failure that Ya’akov inserts a verse in between blessings.  “This verse is the faith that gives us the strength to move forward, the faith that we do not simply face a ‘private’ national redemption, but rather the redemption and salvation of God.”  It is this understanding, this feeling, that can keep us moving towards progress.  When Ya’akov says these words, he has realized that the physical strength of Shimshom that brought the Jewish nation a measure of success has come to an end with his death.  But the building of a national spirit is able to proceed it and build an even stronger nation: “Not by might, and not by power, but by My spirit alone!” Our spirit will triumph over any and all temporary victories won by physical force.  Physical force has its time and place, but must, eventually, give way. 

Another “blessing” I enjoyed contemplating this week was what Ya’akov said to Yosef before gathering all his sons:

Behold – I am about to die; God will be with you and will bring you back to the land of your  fathers.  And as for me, I have given you Shechem – one portion more than your brothers, which I took from the hand of the Amorite with my sword and with my bow.  (Bereishit 48:21-2; Artscroll translation)

Why does Yosef deserve Shechem?  Why not Shimon and Levi, the ones who slaughtered the Hivites in defense of their raped sister, Dinah?  In addition, does Ya’akov claim he took the land from the Amorites?  This certainly isn’t in the Torah.  It was Levi and Shimon that took the land, with their swords and their bows, from the Hivites. 

As I began to look into this issue it did not take me longer to realize the benefit of reading three translations every week as there are, undoubtedly, political or other opinions that influence most translations of the Torah (and other ancient texts).  The JPS Tanakh, likely the most “scholarly” translation, translates as follows: And now, I assign you one portion more than to your brothers, which I wrested from the Amorites with my sword and bow.  Mechon-Mamre.org has a similar translation.  Where does Shechem appear in these?  It is translated as “portion” in all three – but the Artscroll double counts this word – first as the city and secondly as “portion” – in order to convey one particular interpretation of the verse.  To be certain, there probably is a correlation between the city and the verb.  We know that Yosef’s son, Ephraim, was allotted the land of Shechem which lends itself well to the interpretation expressed by Artscroll.

But Rashi proposes a different answer:

“Shechem Achad.” This is the birthright, that his (Yosef’s) sons will get two portions. And ‘schechem’ has the connotation of ‘portions’ and this has many parallels in the Tanakh….  “With my sword and bow.”  This is his (Ya’akov’s) wisdom and his prayer.”

Julie Pelc, however, points out that none of the “parallels” that Rashi cites explicitly use the word shechem as meaning “portion.”  And why does Rashi use a metaphoric interpretation of sword and bow?  The answer is twofold: there is not much evidence of a physical fight and, secondly, there may have been a movement of Rabbinic pacifism that this was linked to.  Ramban, according to Pelc, has a more plausible explanation by turning Ya’akov’s words into prophecy: it refers to the birthright that actualizes itself in the future after the Jewish people’s Exodus from Egypt and eventually into Israel.  The sword and bow refer to the physical force by which Menasseh and Ephraim took the land.  Pelc also poses other potential solutions, but I don’t particularly buy into any of them.  Robert Alter offers a “new” interpretation that doesn’t appear once in the previous 3,000 years…I don’t buy it.  Others want to read it through modern lenses…well, guess what, it’s not a modern text.  We can read the Bible as an eternal text, but we must also first gain an understanding of its origin and historical context/interpretations. 

So what is my answer?  Well, I’m not sure I have one either.  But there are a couple of things that may play a factor into it.  First, it comes immediately after the blessing of Ephraim and Menasseh.  And although the text says that Israel (i.e. Ya’akov) speaks to Joseph, he utilizes the plural form of “you” (imachem, not imcha).  In the next verse the singular is used in relation to giving Yosef one portion greater than his brothers.  When Ya’akov uses the plural to tell Yosef that God will be with him and bring him back to the land of his fathers, it is clear he must be talking to him as a representative of all Jews in Israel or, at the least, a representative for all his brothers.  There is hope for all of them during the exile and slavery they will shortly begin to endure.  But then we switch to the singular as Ya’akov personalizes his language for Yosef alone.  It is only Yosef that will receive an extra portion.  This may be because he earned it, and certainly is deserving of it.  But maybe it is because of his sons.  We are blessed after Ephraim and Manasseh because of their ability to be morally upright in an amoral society, to follow God in a place of idolatry, and our desire for our future generations to have such ability.  All of the brothers were able to, in the end, follow God and find the path of the righteous.  But it was Yosef and his sons that never left it; they had stumbles here and there but did not ever leave the path.  And for that they are deserving of an extra portion.