Addict Torah: Vayigash 2023/5784

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Dr. Avivah Gottlieb Zornberg, The Beginning of Desire, Kindle edition, location 7073.

Yet Joseph’s lightness throws into relief Judah’s strange offer of slavery for all, with its implication of shared guilt. In a paroxysm of recognition, Judah mutely acknowledges that other guilt, the bloodshed, the flaying, displaced onto a goat. He is in no debating mood: all distinctions are blurred between the technical, apparent guilt of Benjamin and the profound residue of a crime committed by the brothers a generation before.

Dr. Avivah Gottlieb Zornberg, The Beginning of Desire, Kindle edition, location 7194

This change of mood, corresponding to the break in the narrative, is precipitated, I suggest, by Joseph’s use of the word shalom: “the rest of you go back in peace to your father” (44:17). Shalom, peace, wholeness—the notion strikes Judah’s ear as exquisitely wrong in this context. For Jacob’s family had been raised to the ideal of shalom, of wholeness... Ironically, he was lost on a mission to “see the shalom, the peace of your brothers and of the sheep” (37:14). Jacob sent him to investigate the apparent idyll of household integrity; while engaged on this research project (“See … and bring me back word”), he disappeared. Jacob’s wholeness is shattered; thereafter, Simeon disappears (he “is not” [42:36]); and now Joseph wants to remove Benjamin too. From the reader’s perspective, there is an outrageous quality to Joseph’s bland direction to his brothers to “go back in peace”; all three disturbances of the family’s wholeness can, in a sense, be laid to his door. He is personally responsible for the progressive fragmentation of the family, because of his tendency to “see … and bring back word.” As the household detective, he “brought evil report to their father” (37:2). Rashi comments: “Every evil that he would see in his brothers he would tell his father.” From the beginning, there was a kind of seeing in Joseph that broke the peace, that probed beyond the surfaces, and that led to the disintegration of the family. ...he insistently inquires after their shalom—and especially after their father’s shalom: “He greeted them [le-shalom], and he said, ‘How [ha-shalom] is your aged father of whom you spoke? Is he still in good health [lit., still alive]?’ They replied, ‘It is well [shalom] with your servant our father; he is still in good health.’ And they bowed and made obeisance” (43:27–28). This dialogue, its formal courtesy indicated by the obeisance, covers dangerous depths.

RA & USCJ, Etz Chayim: Torah and Commentary, p. 274

[Judah] drew close emotionally as well as physically. The author of S'fat Emet understands these words to mean 'Judah approached himself.' He discovered who he really was, not the compromiser who had said 'let us sell him...', causing his father boundless grief, but the advocate for compassion and family harmony...he understands that he cannot change his father; he can only change his reaction to his father's deeds.

Rabbi Dr. Bradley Shavit Artson, The Everyday Torah, Kindle Edition, p. 75.

Imagine the razim (secrets) of Joseph. On the surface, he appeared to have everything—a wife, children, wealth, power, and good health. Who could know the secrets of his heart—his pining for his aged father, his desire for his brothers' love, his anger at how he had been treated, his regret for his own childhood arrogance? Perhaps it was that welter of hidden emotions that led him to devise the trap for his brothers... Only someone very wise and very deep could attempt to speak to the surface and the depth of Joseph's heart. Speaking only to the surface risked ignoring the deeper causes that moved the surface. Addressing only the depths risked trivializing the very real threat of what appeared on the surface. The life of young Benjamin was at stake, as was the life of the great patriarch Israel. That wise someone, who had himself experienced sorrow, loss, and suffering, was Joseph's brother Judah. And so, the Torah tells us, "Judah went up to his brother." The rabbis of antiquity, careful readers of Torah, understood the verb va-yiggash to mean that he drew close to Joseph, not just physically, but by speaking to his depth. Thinking of the encounter between Joseph and Judah, Midrash B'raisheet Rabbah applies the proverb "The designs in someone's mind are deep waters, but a person of understanding can draw them out" (Gen. 20:5).

RA & USCJ, Etz Chayim: Torah and Commentary, p. 275

The brother responsible for selling Joesph into slavery (37:26) now unwittingly offers to become the slave of his own victim!

Rabbi Ted Rider, The Mussar Torah Commentary, p. 70

The classic interpretation of this story is that Joseph keeps his identity hidden to test his brothers.3 Have they grown emotionally since selling him into slavery? Have they developed more compassion for their father, more fidelity toward their brothers, more integrity as men? This reading brings into question Joseph’s bitachon. If he trusts that all will be for good, would he need to test his brothers?

RA & USCJ, Etz Chayim: Torah and Commentary, p. 274

The reconciliation between Joseph and his brothers is one of the great scenes in all of literature. it is preceded by a deeply moving speech by Judah, who uses the word 'father' 14 times in 17 verses. Joseph is moved to tears and to self-revelation by Judah's words. He realizees that his keeping Benjamin in prison would be doing to his brother and father what the brothers had done to him and their father years ago.

Louis Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews, p. 479, Kindle Edition

Judah spake...'let these words of mine which I am about to speak find entrance into thy heart: For the sake of the grandmother of this lad were Pharaoh and his house stricken with sore plagues, because he detained her in his palace a single night against her will. His mother died a premature death, by reason of a curse which his father uttered in inconsiderate haste. Take heed, then, that this man's curse strike thee not and slay thee. Two of us destroyed the whole of a city on account of one woman, how much more would we do it for the sake of a man, and that man the beloved of the Lord, in whose allotment it is appointed that God shall dwell!'

Dr. Avivah Gottlieb Zornberg, The Beginning of Desire, Kindle edition, location 7461

Here, one of the central questions about Joseph’s behavior arises. Ramban asks it, as do many other commentators: how could Joseph not communicate with his father, at least during the years of his success and power? Some powerful restraint bars him from relieving his beloved father of his anguish...Or Ha-ḥayyim offers a simple, but totally convincing answer:39 Joseph is paralyzed by the prospect of his brothers’ shame, if he reveals himself to his father. This is a genetic sensitivity: his mother, Rachel, according to a classic midrash, had been so horrified at the idea that her sister, Leah, masquerading as Rachel, would be shamed on her wedding night, that she gave her the secret signs that Jacob had given her, to prevent just such a deception (Rashi, 29:25) To prevent his brothers’ shame, Joseph has, like his mother, kept silent, while his heart yearned to express itself.

Maimonedes, Mishneh Torah, Teshuvah 2:1

(1) [Who has reached] complete Teshuvah? A person who confronts the same situation in which he sinned when he has the potential to commit [the sin again], and, nevertheless, abstains and does not commit it because of his Teshuvah alone and not because of fear or a lack of strength.

Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, Covenant and Conversation, vol. 1, p. 314

Joseph is consistently known to tradition as haTzaddik, “the righteous.” Judah is a penitent, the first in the Torah. Joseph became mishneh leMelekh, “second to the king.” Judah, however, became the father of Israel’s kings. Where the penitent Judah stands, even the perfectly righteous Joseph cannot stand. However great an individual may be in virtue of his or her natural character, greater still is one who is capable of growth and change. That is the power of penitence, and it began with Judah.

Louis Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews, p. 487, Kindle edition

At last the brethren were soothed, and they went up to Joseph, who knew each by name, and, weeping, he embraced and kissed them all in turn. The reason why he wept was that his prophetic spirit showed him the descendants of his brethren enslaved by the nations. Especially did he weep upon Benjamin's neck, because he foresaw the destruction decreed for the two Temples to be situated in the allotment of Benjamin. And Benjamin also wept upon Joseph's neck, for the sanctuary at Shiloh, in the territory of Joseph which was likewise doomed to destruction.

RA & USCJ, Etz Chayim: Torah and Commentary, p. 276-277

The narrative here makes an important theological statement...God's role was to sustain Joseph and guide him to bring something good and life affirming out of the unfairness inflicted on him...He no longer accuses the brothers of having sold him but says they 'sent' him, thereby substituing the beneficial result for their evil purpose.

Dr. Avivah Gottlieb Zornberg, The Beginning of Desire, Kindle edition, location 7500

The point is made succinctly by Sefat Emet, who comments on Joseph’s opening statement: “I am your brother Joseph, he whom [asher] you sold.” For him, Joseph is neither simply identifying himself, nor pouring salt on their wound. Instead, he cites the midrash on a parallel statement, where God speaks to Moses of the Tablets of Stone, “which [asher] you broke” (Exodus 34:1): “Congratulations [yishar koḥakha] that you broke them!”44 In the long view, the dynamic by which the second set of Tablets is created is to be more useful to the Jewish people—psychologically and spiritually—than the instant gift of the first Tablets. Cataclysms are often retrospectively seen as fortunate, the gains outweighing the losses.

RA & USCJ, Etz Chayim: Torah and Commentary, p. 279

The Hebrew stem means 'trembling' and carries overtones of agitation, profound concern, or rage. The translations understands Joseph's words to mean: do not engage in mutual recrimination. But the text can also be saying: Have no fear for your safety on your journey to Canaan and back...the past is past and cannot be undone, and we all have to live with each other.

Rambam on Genesis 45:26

(1)...‘vayaphag’ his heart [thus means that the beat of] his heart was suspended and his breathing ceased, for the movement of the heart ceased and he was as dead. This condition is known when joy suddenly comes upon one, and it is mentioned in the books of medicines that old or feeble persons cannot withstand the shock, for many of them faint when joy comes to them very suddenly. The heart widens and opens suddenly, and its natural heat goes out and scatters throughout the outer parts of the body, and the heart thus ceases to function because of its coolness. Thus the patriarch fell as dead. Scripture says, for he believed them not, in order to relate that he remained in that condition a great part of the day, and he lay so without movement because he did not believe them.

Dr. Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson, The Everyday Torah, Kindle edition, p. 77

After fainting, Jacob says, "It is enough. Joseph, my son, is still alive." Those brief words, "it is enough," stand in articulate dissent from the Hobbesian lust for more, more, more. There is such a thing as enough. The restoration of love—between parent and child, between spouses, between friends—that is surely enough. A life lived with morality and purpose is surely enough. A community passionate in the service of God, that is clearly enough. As the Mishnah insists, "Who is rich? One who is happy with his portion."

CCAR, The Torah: A Women's Commentary, p. 776, Kindle edition

But the very notion of “closure” for grief is an illusion. Instead, there is only the tentative recognition that our anguish is endurable, that—despite ourselves—life goes on and engages us with new emotions, new situations and images, new challenges and changes. The remembrance of the people we miss gets tucked into our hearts to be revisited—perhaps when we least expect it. As for the process of true inner change, true self-transformation, we learn to forgive ourselves for the mistakes of the past by not making them again. If we are lucky, life “tenderizes” the heart, gives us hearts not of stone but of flesh.

Chizkuni, via Nehama Leibowitz, in Studies in Genesis, p. 501

The expression 'fear not' is only directed to one who is afraid. Jacob was afraid and said: now that I am about to go down to Egypt the days are at hand foretold my forefathers regarding the decree of bondage and affliction on my seed in a land not their own...[Leibowitz continues] Though he knew full well that he was going to a land of plenty and to live in comfort, who would guarantee that his descendants would want to leave Egypt and return to the land of Canaan...Perhaps his children would forget their destiny as they wallowed in the plenty of Egypt and did not want to leave.

Nehama Leibowitz, Studies in Genesis, p. 510

The Almighty's employment of his old name, 'Jacob,' on this occasion, implies that henceforth he would not strive with God and men and prevail, but remain in the house of bondage until he would bring him out. The exile was beginning. This too is the reason for the use of 'Jacob' in the passage [elsewhere in this parashah] 'and these are the names of the children of Israel who came to Egypt, Jacob and his sons.'

Louis Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews, Kindle edition p. 492

Before Jacob left Canaan, he went to Beer-sheba, to hew down the cedars that Abraham had planted there, and take them with him to Egypt. For centuries these cedar trees remained in the possession of his descendants; they carried them with them when they left Egypt, and they used them in building the Tabernacle.

Nehama Leibowitz, Studies in Genesis, p. 507

This was the last Divine revelation to him and to the patriarchs, as a whole.

Nehama Leibowitz, Studies in Genesis, p. 503-4

It is not clear who is described as doing the weeping. Only one thing is clear that unlike the description of the meeting of Jacob and Esau (33,4), where both of them wept, here the singular form 'and he wept' is used. But to whom does this refer? [citing Rambam]: [his father] wept for him more, in continuance of the constant weeping for him til this day, during all the time that he had not seen him...It is a well known phenomenon. By whom are tears more easily shed? By the aged parent who finds his long lost son alive after despairing and mourning for him or the young son who rules?

Richard Elliott Friedman, Commentary on the Torah, Kindle Edition, p. 883

The message here may well be that God can work through anyone: through an all-obedient man, a passive, dim-eyed patriarch, or a deceiver.

Denise L Eger, Torah Queeries, p. 66

In their moment of reconciliation, Joseph and his brothers begin a new kind of understanding. Joseph is able to resettle the entire family in Egypt. Through the act of forgiveness, Joseph’s alienation from his family is alleviated, and the brothers who so cruelly treated him can find a new life in Egypt for themselves and for their own children. This message should not escape us. Forgiveness of family members has implications not just for those involved but for future generations. If we can find a way to forgive and to overcome the pains of the past rather than be stopped by them, perhaps our own lives will be lived with a new kind of fullness. Certainly this was true for Joseph, who overcame his past, refusing to allow his own anger and hurt to keep him down.

RA & USCJ, Etz Chayim: Torah and Commentary, p. 284

Joseph had asked his brothers to stress that they were breeders of livestock, because Egyptians held shepherds in low esteem. When Pharaoh asks the brothers about their occupation, they answer that they are shepherds, like their fathers. Why did they ignore Joseph's request?

CCAR, The Torah: A Women's Commentary, Kindle edition, p. 763

The bond between the two elders becomes even clearer when Jacob blesses Pharaoh before departing from his presence. Jacob’s blessing is rooted in the blessing of life that Pharaoh made possible for Joseph’s family. Normally it would go without saying that one utters a benevolent wish when departing from a favorable audience before a monarch. What is noteworthy here is that such an utterance is mentioned—and described as a “blessing,” which in the Torah has an overtone of divine favor.

Rabbi Shai Held, The Heart of Torah, vol. 1, locations 2331, 2365, Kindle edition

And yet I wonder. The ironic turns in the text are intense and powerful and thus require explanation: Brought to Egypt as a slave, Joseph now becomes Egypt’s enslaver. And soon enough, a new Pharaoh rises and “the House of Israel [finds] themselves once again on the wrong end of the enslavement process.”228 Joseph displays remarkable administrative prowess, but he unleashes forces that eventually end up oppressing and degrading his own people. It is hard to imagine that the Torah makes no moral judgment at all on Joseph’s setting this destructive process in motion. Does this mean that Joseph is no better than the Pharaoh who eventually oppresses Israel? Hardly. The Torah paints a far more subtle and nuanced picture. It is surely noteworthy that while the Israelites groan under their misery (Exod. 2:23), the Egyptians, as we have seen, express gratitude to Joseph for keeping them fed (Gen. 47:25).229 Not every slaveholder is the same, and not all processes of disempowerment are equivalent. But being better than Pharaoh is not in itself a ringing endorsement. The question is not whether Joseph is the most oppressive figure in the Torah; he most assuredly is not. The question is more modest: How does the Torah evaluate his behavior?...Joseph does save countless lives in a disastrous time and thus brings abundant blessing to the Egyptians. And yet he exacts too high a price from them—everything they have, including their very freedom—and insists on making what should have been at best a temporary arrangement permanent.237 With those decisions he plays with fire, and that fire will eventually wound his own family in unspeakable ways.