(+) Archimandrite Daniel Gouvalis (1940-2009)
“MAY GOD BLESS YOU LIKE
EPHRAIM AND MANASSEH”
(Gen. 48:20)
We find ourselves in the seventeenth century B.C. In Egypt, we will witness an episode mentioned in the final days of the God-bearing patriarch Jacob. Without a doubt, the events surrounding the end of this much-suffering Patriarch are among the most moving pages of Holy Scripture. One sees here the abundant blessings that God poured out upon the patriarchal family, the great joys following sorrows, and the God-inspired actions of the aged Jacob that inspire awe. In every word of his, in every gesture, we discern an extraordinary divine illumination and impulse from the Spirit of God. We sense that before us stands not merely a prophet, but someone more than a prophet.
At the age of one hundred and thirty, aged and much afflicted, driven by famine, he came to Egypt, and he and his numerous family were placed under the protection of his son Joseph. His much-lamented son had not been devoured by wild beasts, but with the wondrous support of God, he governed Egypt and saved it from the threat of starvation. He proved to be a savior not only to the Egyptians but also to his own family. Under his shadow, the elderly father would pass peacefully the remaining seventeen years of his life in a foreign land.
The one hundred and forty-seventh year was the final one for the Patriarch. In it, he reserved a special blessing for his beloved son. He asked him to bring forward his two sons so that he might bless them. This was not a simple blessing, but a ritual of adoption. The two grandsons would become his sons, which would grant them significant rights. When the paternal inheritance would be distributed, each of the two grandsons would receive a separate portion. Later, in the division of Palestine, the tribe of each would receive its own territory. This meant that Joseph would receive a double share — the inheritance of the firstborn — even though someone else was the actual firstborn.
Joseph’s children were named Manasseh and Ephraim. Given that Joseph had them before his father’s arrival, they were already older than seventeen. The Patriarch, bedridden, near death, and physically frail, had deteriorated when he received the visit of Joseph and his sons. When they were about to enter his room, he gathered his strength and sat up on his bed. His words were deeply prophetic. His mouth uttered oracles: the land of Palestine would fall into the hands of his descendants. God Himself had foretold this to him: “I will give this land to you and your descendants as an everlasting possession” (Gen. 48:4 and 35:12). And he continued: “Now then, your two sons who were born to you in Egypt before I came here, Ephraim and Manasseh, shall be mine; as Reuben and Simeon, they shall be mine.”
At this point, a first prophetic act of the Patriarch manifested itself. Instead of naming Manasseh, the firstborn, he mentioned the younger son first. As will become evident later, this was no accident. He clarified that the adoption applied only to these two children, not to any others that Joseph might later have. If Joseph were to have other children, they and their descendants would be incorporated into the tribe of Ephraim or Manasseh. They would not constitute a separate tribe. These determinations carried theological significance. The number of children he adopted was two — two children, two peoples, two worlds, two Covenants. Further clarification will follow.
These things were spoken as soon as the three visitors entered the room. He also mentioned a moving event for both himself and Joseph: the death of his beloved wife and Joseph’s mother, Rachel. “When I came from Mesopotamia, your mother Rachel died in the land of Canaan, along the way, not far from the road of Chabratha, as I was going to Ephratha (that is, Bethlehem), and I buried her there along the way” (Gen. 48:7).
It is a deeply psychological truth that a person departing from this life, when facing someone younger, will often rekindle memories of people and events that played a significant role in both their lives. The dying elder knew exactly which strings to touch. In this way, the atmosphere became more tender, more emotionally charged, and more suitable to receive the upcoming Spirit-driven actions.
Silence followed. The weak eyes of the grandfather recognized the two children. He asked Joseph: “Who are these?” Joseph replied: “They are the sons whom God gave me.” “Bring them near me so I may bless them.” Joseph brought them closer while the Patriarch was sitting up in bed, with his feet hanging down. The boys stood between his legs. He opened his arms, embraced them, and kissed them. “He kissed them and embraced them” (Gen. 48:10).
A deeply moving image. The God-bearing elder holds tightly in his arms the sons of his most beloved child. His heart overflowed with joy. And that joy turned into doxology:
“Behold, I have been granted the blessing to see you; behold, God has shown me your descendants as well” (Gen. 48:11).
“I had
considered you dead and mourned for you. And now, behold, I have found
you alive and glorious. Glory be to God. I never hoped to see you again.
And now God has granted me to behold you with your children. Blessed be
the name of the Almighty!”
Scripture conceals mysterious depths. “The depth of divine wisdom.” Oceans of mysteries are hidden behind the various narrated events.
The Patriarch Jacob and his two grandsons. “He embraced them.” Ephraim and Manasseh, through the embrace of their grandfather, became as one man. The aged hands encircled them and bound them together. A striking image of reconciliation between two peoples who were once unthinkable to unite. Do not look upon Jacob, nor Manasseh and Ephraim, but see in the place of the first, God Himself; in the place of Manasseh, the Israelite people of the Old Covenant; and in the place of Ephraim, the Christian people from among the Gentiles of the New Covenant.
During the era of the Old Testament, only Israel — the “chosen” people, God’s possession and inheritance — was held in God’s embrace. For the Israelites, the uncircumcised — the unbaptized, as we would say today — Gentiles were considered profane and unclean. They could not form a relationship with God, nor were they entitled to inherit His blessings. Yet the time would come when the uncircumcised Gentiles would become sheep of the same flock and would also be gathered into God’s embrace.
Joseph withdrew the children from his father. The children then prostrated themselves to the ground. Kneeling, with their faces to the earth, they declared prophetically that one day the two peoples — those from the Jews and those from the Gentiles — would stand side by side and confess a shared faith and obedience to the God of the Fathers.
Manasseh and Ephraim had stepped slightly away. Joseph now prepared to bring them close again to their grandfather for the blessing of adoption. It was a moment of exceptional sanctity and emotion. Joseph was careful to carry out every movement precisely. He took both by the hand, placing Ephraim at his right and Manasseh at his left, and brought them to their grandfather. He had arranged it so that opposite the old man’s right hand stood the elder, and opposite the left hand, the younger.
The very aged Jacob drew strength from God and began the rite. He would act with both hands and words. Everything bore a unique solemnity and significance, even though outwardly it seemed simple. He stretched out his right hand, turned it to the left, and placed it on Ephraim’s head. Then he stretched out his left hand, turned it to the right, and laid it on Manasseh’s head. The two hands formed a shape — the most blessed of all shapes in the world, even if it was too early at the time to be understood. They formed a cross. Soon, the words of the cross-shaped blessing would be heard. It was the first blessing given in the form of the cross. With reverence, he exclaimed:
“The God before whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac walked,
the God who has fed me all my life long to this day,
the Angel who has redeemed me from all evil,
may He bless these boys.”
He took a breath and continued in a sacred and solemn tone:
“Let my name be named upon them,
and the name of my fathers Abraham and Isaac,
and let them grow into a multitude in the midst of the earth” (Gen. 48:15–16).
Joseph, seeing the position of the Patriarch’s hands, became troubled. He realized that something was amiss — a discord!
It displeased him that the right hand rested on the head of the younger. He tried to move it to the head of the firstborn, Manasseh. “Father,” he said, “not so with the hands. This is the firstborn. Place your right hand on his head.” Joseph was thinking and acting according to human understanding. But at that sacred moment, his father had become an instrument of the Holy Spirit. Though his bodily eyes were dim, the eyes of his soul could penetrate the veils of the coming centuries. He acted as a man filled with the Spirit, and all his actions were charged with prophetic meaning. And he was aware of this. True prophets know what is happening at the moment of the Spirit’s inspiration. That is why he did not accept his son’s correction. “I know, my son,” he said. “I know.” A people shall also arise from him, and he too shall be great. But his younger brother shall surpass him, and his descendants shall become a multitude of nations (Gen. 48:19).
He wholeheartedly blessed the two children and foretold that this blessing would become a proverb upon the lips of the Israelites: “With you, using your names, the Israelites will offer wishes and blessings, saying, ‘May God make you like Ephraim and like Manasseh’” (Gen. 48:20). Again, he placed the name of the younger first: “He set Ephraim before Manasseh” (Gen. 48:20).
I remember once, a grandmother in a village of Central Greece said to her grandson: “May God grant you the blessings of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.” In a similar way, a father in 11th or 12th century B.C. Palestine would say to his sons: “May God bless you like Ephraim and Manasseh.” Of course, when blessings were given to daughters, the wording was different. The inhabitants of Bethlehem once prayed for Ruth that she might be like Rachel and Leah (Ruth 4:11). These two women gave birth to the twelve patriarchs of Israel.
“And his (Ephraim’s) descendants shall become a multitude of nations.” These many nations signify those who were destined to come to know Christ and enter into the Christian Church. Jacob did not utter such a word concerning Manasseh, because he represents the Jewish synagogue, which suffers from wretchedness, from the disease of racism, and still remains narrow-hearted and closed.
Naturally, the literal tribe of Ephraim also received certain blessings. The Ephraimites had a reputation as warriors and brave men. For about three hundred years, in Shiloh, a city of the tribe of Ephraim, the Tabernacle of Testimony resided. The territory the tribe received extended from the Jordan to the Mediterranean and was among the most fertile of Palestine. “The mighty in wars, Jesus son of Navi (Joshua), and successor of Moses in prophecy” (Sirach 46:1), belonged to the descendants of Ephraim. During the years of the division of the Hebrews into the kingdom of Judah and the kingdom of Israel, the latter—though composed of ten tribes—was often named and designated by the tribe of Ephraim.
But the great blessings pertain to the spiritual Ephraim, the younger son of God, that is, the younger people, the people of the Christian Church. And Jesus son of Navi (Joshua) prefigured the other Jesus, the leader of the Christian faith. And the capital, Shiloh (=place of rest), prefigures the Church, where the tribes find true rest. All the words of the elderly Jacob bend under the depth and weight of meanings. Without interpretation and analysis, they escape us. And that phrase, “The Angel who redeems me from all evil,” what does it not conceal? Who is this Angel who saves from every evil and is invoked equally with the God of Abraham and Isaac to bless the two youths? Was God’s blessing not sufficient? Was this other also needed to cooperate? This is not a person who belongs to the angelic nature, but a person of the uncreated Godhead. He is not merely an angel, but the Angel of God, the renowned Angel of the Covenant—that is, the Son of God, the Word of God, who in the realm of the Old Testament acts without flesh, while in the New Testament He also bears the garment of humility, that is, human flesh. This Angel, as He appears to the saints of the Old Testament, while called an angel, is also simultaneously called God and acts with full divine authority.
He appears, for example, to Moses while he was tending the sheep at Horeb, as a flame of fire, “in a flame of fire out of the bush” (Ex. 3:2). And here the mysteries begin. In one verse He appears as an angel, and in another as God. All is mysterious, enigmatic, and shadowed. And all proceeds from the love of God, who knew that His people were not yet mature enough to receive the revelation of the mystery of the Holy Trinity—they were not capable of sensing this mystery and at the same time remaining within monotheism. In verse 2, the Angel of the Covenant is called the Angel of the Lord, the Angel of Yahweh. In verse 4, He is called Lord and God, Yahweh and Elohim. In verse 6, He presents Himself as the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
The same divine Person also appeared to Gideon to entrust him with the salvation of the people from the oppression of the Midianites (Judges, chapter 6). In verses 11 and 12, He is called the Angel of the Lord. In verse 20, the Angel of God. In verses 21 and 22, again the Angel of the Lord. Meanwhile, in verses 14 and 16 (according to the Hebrew), He is characterized as the Lord, Yahweh, and behaves as God. Verses 22 and 23 are especially significant because the names Lord, God, and Angel of the Lord alternate. Gideon senses that the one who appeared to him as an angel is a Person of the Godhead and is seized with fear, because according to the belief of the Hebrews, whoever saw God would undoubtedly die. “And the Lord said to him, ‘Peace be to you; fear not, you shall not die’” (v. 23).
But we also read in the Prophet Malachi: “And suddenly the Lord whom you seek will come to His temple, even the Angel of the Covenant whom you desire” (Malachi 3:1). The Messiah, whom the Israelites were seeking and desiring, and who visited the temple in Jerusalem several times, is here described by Malachi both as Lord and as the Angel of the Covenant. This again refers to the Son of God. He, who once, as the incorporeal Word, established the first covenant, later, as the incarnate Word, established the new one. All things were done through Him. All things came to be through Him. Everything the Father wants to say, He proclaims and reveals, for He is the “Angel of Great Counsel” (Isaiah 9:6), the one who announces the will of the Father. “All things that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you,” Christ once said to His disciples (John 15:15).
Some interpreters note that the Angel of the Covenant is God. But the proper understanding is that He is the second person of the Godhead. After all, the concepts of “angel” and “word” are related. The angel conveys words. Just as the Word is a distinct person from the Father, so too the Angel of the Covenant is distinct and is the Word Himself.
We do not say “an angel of God” but “the Angel of God” or “the Angel of the Covenant.” This divine person is also revealed in the episode of Isaac’s sacrifice and in Hagar’s wandering in the wilderness. He also appears in connection with the notion of the covenant at the beginning of the second chapter of the Book of Judges (more clearly in the Hebrew text). But before closing this digression, let us briefly give the floor to St. Basil the Great, who, in confronting the heretic Eunomius, leader of the Anomoeans—an extreme Arian sect—writes the following:
“Will you not cease, O godless man, from calling ‘non-being’ the One who truly is the ‘Existing One,’ who is the source of life, who grants existence to all beings? He who, when speaking with His servant Moses, found and revealed a name for Himself that was fitting and proper: the name ‘He who is’? For He said, ‘I am He who is’ (Exodus 3:14). No one will dare to say that these words were not spoken by the Lord—no one, that is, who reads Moses without having the Jewish veil over his heart. For it is written that ‘an Angel of the Lord appeared to Moses in the flame of fire in the bush.’ So, while the narrative first presents Him as an Angel, it later gives His voice as the voice of God. For it says, ‘God said to Moses: I am the God of your father Abraham…’ And a little further: ‘I am He who is.’ Who then is this one who is both Angel and God? Is He not the one we have learned is called the ‘Angel of Great Counsel’? I think there is no need to offer more proofs. For the friends of Christ, even a reminder is sufficient. But for those who are incurably sick, no amount of words will help. Even though He later became the Angel of Great Counsel, He did not disdain to be called angel even in former times.
“Indeed, not only here does Scripture call our Lord both Angel and God, but also in an event concerning Jacob. When Jacob recounts his vision to the women, he says: ‘The Angel of God said to me’ (Genesis 31:11). And a little later: ‘I am the God who appeared to you in the place where you set up a pillar and anointed it with oil’ (31:13); though in that place where the pillar was set up, these words had been spoken to Jacob: ‘I am the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac’ (28:13). So the one who is here called Angel is the same who had previously appeared to Jacob.
“Thus, it becomes clear to everyone that wherever Scripture names the same person both Angel and God, it refers to the Only-Begotten, who in every generation reveals Himself to humanity and proclaims to His saints the will of the Father. Therefore, even in the case of Moses, the one who named Himself ‘He who is’ can be understood as none other than the Divine Word, who in the beginning was ‘with God’ and who ‘was God’ (cf. John 1:1).” (Against Eunomius, Book II, 18)
And Saint Irenaeus, to refer also to earlier patristic witnesses (2nd century AD), commenting on the Angel who rebuked and threatened the seer Balaam (Numbers 22:22–35), notes that He is the Son of God (see B.E.P., vol. 5, p. 178).
This digression took its course from the beautiful phrase, “the Angel who delivers me from all evil.” Let us now close the parenthesis and return to our subject.
Then the aged elder turns to Joseph. “Now I am dying,” he says to him, “but God will be with you and will bring you back to the land of your fathers” (Genesis 48:21). Of course, this had a general meaning and referred to the entire nation. Yet he also had something personal to offer his beloved son: Shechem—that is, the property at Sychem, where the famous well of Jacob is found. According to the Hebrew text, there is a wordplay in the Patriarch’s words, because the word “shekhem” means “shoulder” and, by extension, “choice portion.” It is as if Jacob, presiding over a family religious meal, offers Joseph the choice portion of the sacrificial meat. “I give you one portion above your brothers, the one I took from the Amorites with my sword and my bow” (48:22).
Jacob’s words about the future return of the people to the land of Canaan were of great significance. Later, when their stay in Egypt would become a heavy and exhausting bondage, and Pharaoh would burn them like a scorching wind, this promise would resemble a life-giving breeze. Indeed, “God will bring you back to the land of your fathers” (48:21)—to the land where Abraham, Isaac, and even Jacob himself spent their lives tending their flocks.
“Take heart,” said the oppressed Israelites. “Remember what our father Jacob said before he died. Egypt and Pharaoh will not destroy us; the time will come when we shall stand on the holy ground where our Fathers once walked.”
“I give you Shechem, a portion above your brothers.” But would Joseph live to enjoy that portion? No, for death found him in Egypt at the age of one hundred and ten. He spent the last ninety years of his life there. Of course, since he would not live, his descendants would inherit the land.
Yet Jacob did not mean only this. If Joseph would not enjoy Shechem while alive, he would, so to speak, enjoy it after death. We read in the book of Joshua: “And the bones of Joseph, which the Israelites had brought up from Egypt, they buried at Shechem, in the plot of land that Jacob had bought from the sons of Hamor, the father of Shechem, for a hundred pieces of silver; it became the inheritance of the descendants of Joseph” (Joshua 24:32). As seen in the same book, the burial of the bones took place with the greatest solemnity, in the presence of all the tribes of Israel (chapter 24).
Let us now return to the famous cross-shaped blessing of the Patriarch, the one that prefigured the countless blessings and sealings with the sign of the Cross in the Christian era. In the hymnography of our Church, nearly all the events of the Old Testament have been turned into poetry and melodious song. Let us see how this event was praised by Kosmas the Melodist, the peerless hymnographer of the 8th century AD: “The divine Israel, placing his hands crosswise upon the youthful heads, showed that the Law-worshipping people was now an elder glory. And when Joseph suspected that he was mistaken, he did not alter the life-giving form, for he foresaw the newborn people of Christ God, who cried aloud, being fortified by the Cross.” In other words, the divine Jacob placed his palms in the form of a cross on the youthful heads of his grandchildren, thus showing that the people who worshipped God according to the Mosaic law had become “an elder glory,” an outdated honor of former times. Joseph, suspecting a mistake, thought he had been deceived, but Jacob did not change the life-giving form of the Cross, for he believed that the newborn people of God would prevail. And he proclaimed it loudly: The new people would prevail because they were protected by the wall of the Cross. Beautiful expressions: “life-giving form” for the shape of the Cross, “Law-worshipping people” for the people of the Old Testament, “newborn people” for the people of the New Testament.
If Jacob had not crossed his hands in the form of a cross, there would have been no way for the youthful head of Ephraim to be specially preferred and blessed. The right hand of the Patriarch would not have rested upon him. We may add another observation: As Joseph led his sons to receive the blessing, his own right hand was upon Ephraim. That means Ephraim received blessing not only from his grandfather but also from his father. And we should note something else: When, for the first time, before the adoption ceremony, the Patriarch embraced and kissed the two children, during the embrace his right hand again rested on Ephraim’s back. Even then, the shape of the Cross was formed. All things pointed to the fact that blessings and favor were directed toward the younger child. Everything foretold that the newborn people of God would receive the great blessings. And a verse from the sublime prologue of the Epistle to the Ephesians comes to mind: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ” (Ephesians 1:3). Not blessings connected to earthly matters, but to heavenly goods.
We said that the shape of the Cross in Jacob’s hands made his right hand rest upon Ephraim’s head. His favor was due to the Cross. But even Manasseh—and by extension, the Law-worshipping people of the Old Testament—lost the primacy because of the Cross. The Cross and Golgotha, which they offered to the Messiah, sealed their fate. Had they not rejected the Sent Redeemer, they would not have fallen into decline.
Jacob, as the leader of the Hebrew people, naturally did not wish his own nation to fall behind while others advanced. He never desired that the Messiah be led to crucifixion by his own descendants. That is why he did not willingly place his hands crosswise on the two heads. What he desired was for the blessing to fall upon Manasseh, since he represented his own fleshly descendants, his own people who bore his name.
But what a lesson this offers! The faithful servants of the Lord rise above their personal desires and interests. They break the bonds of their own selves and serve the truth in full freedom, no matter how bitter that truth may be. They are not trapped by personal preferences. They are not defeated by partiality. Above all else is the truth. They are bound only by the pure light of the true God.
Little Ephraim for a time felt inferior to his brother, since the latter possessed the privileges of the firstborn. But then something intervened and changed everything—a formation, a shaping of the Cross. The field that once seemed barren became fertile. After all, the name Ephraim itself means fruitfulness. Such was the case with the younger people of God. Once they were tossed about in the barren land of idolatry. They felt inferior to the chosen people and knew nothing of Patriarchs and Prophets, miracles and divine protection. They had no right to partake of the bread that the children of God ate. Every Gentile, in the eyes of Abraham’s descendants, was an unclean dog, a source of defilement and a focus of pollution.
But then the Cross of Christ intervened, and everything changed. The Jews forgot the prophecies, they forgot the miracles and healings of Christ. They became Manassehs. Manasseh means “the one who forgets.” Their minds became corrupted, their souls blinded, just as the prophet Isaiah had said, and they led Christ to death, thus rejecting the heavenly blessings. The vineyard that God had entrusted them to cultivate, they neglected. It became overgrown with thorns. And so it was given to other farmers. As the parable says:
“The Lord of the vineyard will bring those wicked tenants to a miserable end, and will lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the fruits in their seasons” (Matthew 21:41).
Look at the head of Manasseh. In it are seen, among other things, all the wicked tenants who from time to time killed the messengers of God who came to collect fruits. They even killed the Son of the Vineyard Owner. Such a head could not receive upon it the right hand of the God-bearing Patriarch. That was fitting for the head of Ephraim, who represented the good farmers, fruitfulness, and productivity.
Gaze upon the crossed hands of the righteous Forefather laid upon the two heads. This cruciform gesture brought as much benefit to Ephraim as it brought harm to Manasseh. It lifted the one and brought down the other. It made the world cry out, “Ephraim and Manasseh,” placing the younger before the elder. “The last shall be first” (Matthew 20:16). It gave primacy to the younger. The Cross lifts some up and throws others down.
The Cross does the same as the Crucified. The elder Simeon emphasized this: “This child is destined for the fall and rising of many” (Luke 2:34). Those who feel the Cross with the right hand, like Ephraim—that is, those who turn to the Cross with eagerness and love its spirit, the spirit of love, patience, and sacrifice—these will sooner or later be lifted up and will feel spiritual fruitfulness and productivity. After the fog and darkness of Great Friday, they will behold the clear sky and brightness of Pascha.
From the book: Walks Through Holy Scripture
