rabbi zev leff Outlooks & Insights"And he [Yaakov Avinu] saw the wagons that Yosef had sent to transport him, then the spirit of their father YauLov was revived." (Bereishis 45 27)
From this verse it would seem that Yosef sent the wagons to Yaakov. And indeed the Midrash relates that Yosef used the wagons to remind Yaakov of the last topic they were learning when he left home that fateful day twenty-two years previously-eglah arufah-the calf that is beheaded by the elders of the city closest to where a murdered body is found without any clues pointing to the murderer. The word calf, is hinted to in wagon.
But this is highly problematic, for the Torah explicitly states that it was Pharaoh who commanded Yosef to send wagons to transport the family and that Yosef sent wagons "according to the word of Pharaoh." Although the Midrash says that the wagons Pharaoh sent were bedecked with idolatry and Yehudah burnt them and Yosef sent other wagons, this too presents difficulties, for the Torah later refers to the wagons in which Yaakov's family was transported as those sent by Pharaoh.
If the wagons were sent at Pharaoh's behest, where was there a hint to eglah arufah? And since the wagons were needed to transport Yaakov's family, where did Yaakov see an added hint linking the wagons with calves? Upon closer analysis of Pharaoh's command to take wagons and Yosef's response, the answer to all these questions will become evident.
Pharaoh told Yosef: "And now I command you to do the following Take for yourselves from the land of Egypt wagons for you and your wives and transport your father and come here. And do not be concerned about your possessions, for the best of the land of Egypt will be yours" (Bereishis 4519). Pharaoh greatly desired that Yosef's whole illustrious family come to live in Egypt, especially after witnessing the great benefit brought to the kingdom by Yosef.
This issue of Toras Aish is dedicated
in honor of my parents
Rabbi Mordechai & D'vorah Weiss
on their 34th wedding anniversary.
I love you aba & ema!
Pharaoh sought to remove any barriers to Yaakov's coming. He reasoned that Yaakov might be deterred by the difficulties of acclimating to a new culture and society, and therefore told Yosef to tell his father not to worry about bringing his wardrobe, furniture, or utensils from Eretz Yisrael. He would be furnished with the best Egypt had to offer so that he could blend comfortably into Egyptian society. Therefore Pharaoh instructed Yosef to send wagons for the people but not for their possessions.
Yosef, however, knew that if this plan were conveyed to Yaakov, he would never descend to Egypt. On the contrary, Yaakov would need assurances that every precaution was being taken to combat the possibility of assimilation. Thus Yosef sent wagons 'according to the word of Pharach"_not exactly according to the command of Pharaoh, but in accord with Pharaoh's intention of enticing Yaakov to Egypt. Yosef added wagons for their possessions so that they could recreate totally the environment of Eretz Yisrael in Egypt and remain insulated from Egyptian society and culture. Thus, Yaakov's family went down to Egypt with all "their livestock and all of their possessions which they acquired in the Land of Canaan..." (Bereishis 46 6).
When Yaakov saw the wagons that Pharaoh had sent and was informed of the extra wagons that Yosef added for their possessions, it revived his spirit. He recognized that Yosef understood the importance of guarding against possible assimilation and the need to remain insulated from Egyptian culture.
It was no coincidence that the last subject Yaakov and Yosef were discussing was eglah arufah. Both Da'as Z'keinim and Maharal explain that when Yaakov sent Yosef to check on his brothers, he bid him farewell and began to escort him as the halachah dictates. Yosef, a boy of seventeen, begged his father, then one hundred and eight years old, not to accompany him down the steep hill from Hebron, which would necessitate a difficult climb back up. Yaakov replied that levayah (the mitzvah of escorting people on a journey) is of great importance.
We learn the importance of levoyah from the mitzvah of eglah arufah. As part of the mitzvah of eglah arufah, the Elders of the city proclaim that they did not shed his blood. The Gemara (Sotah 45b) asks Could anyone have really suspected the Elders of the city of having shed his blood? The Gemara answers that the meaning of the Elders' oath is that they did not knowingly permit the deceased to leave the city without an escort, since such an escort is a protection for the person embarking on a journey.
Maharal explains that although one is halachically required to accompany his friend no more than four amos (approximately eight feet), even that levayah suffices to show the one being accompanied that he is not alone but is connected to others. This spiritual connection gives the one accompanied the merit of the tzibbur (public), which is a potent protection against harm.
The mitzvah of levayah shows us that a person's physical location is not as significant as the spiritual locus to which he is attached. One can be physically alone yet spiritually connected to the body of Klal Yisrael through his connection to the one who escorts him on the beginning of his journey. Similarly, one may physically be in galus, far from Eretz Yisrael, but spiritually connected to it. Yaakov's realization that Yosef still lived in accord with this concept caused his spirit to revive.
When Yosef coached his brothers prior to their first meeting with Pharaoh, he told them to emphasize that they were shepherds from time immemorial so that they would be sent to live apart in Goshen, for shepherds were an abomination to the Egyptians. Instead of bidding them to conceal that they were shepherds so that they would be more readily accepted, Yosef emphasized that fact. He realized that their ability to survive the Egyptian exile depended on their capacity to remain apart, and Goshen was well-suited to that purpose. Yosef told his brothers that he was going to inform Pharaoh, "My brothers and my father's household, who are in the Land of Canaan have come to me," hinting to them that they were not from the Land of Canaan, but still in the Land of Canaan, despite temporarily residing in Egypt.
Before actually descending to Egypt, Yaakov sent Yehudah ahead to prepare the way. Chazal say that his function was to establish a yeshivah in Goshen. Seemingly this task should have been given to Levi, the Rosh Yeshivah of Klal Yisrael, not to Yehudah, the King. But this yeshivah was not merely a place of Torah study, it was the means of transferring the holiness of Eretz Yisrael to Egyptian soil. Goshen was to become a spiritually sovereign region within the environs of Egypt. Areas adjacent to Eretz Yisrael conquered in war take on some of the spiritual status of Eretz Yisrael. Thus the King, Yehudah, was needed to conquer Goshen as a spiritual extension of Eretz Yisrael.
It was Yehudah who exercised his royal power by bringing the extra wagons back to Yaakov for all their possessions. He thereby nullified Pharaoh's purpose of promoting Yaakov's assimilation. When Chazal say Yehudah burnt the avodah zarah (idolatry) of Pharaoh's wagons, they mean that he destroyed them by negating their intended function.
Chazal tell us that the study halls and shuls in galus are parts of Eretz Yisrael transplanted to foreign soil. It is in them and around them that we must build a temporary physical dwelling place that is spiritually rooted in the holiness and purity of Eretz Yisrael. As long as one is physically prevented from being in Eretz Yisrael, he must transplant Eretz Yisrael to foreign soil. In this way the Jew insulates himself from assimilating into the host society and culture!
The fast of Asara B'Teves always falls in close proximity to Vayigash. One of the lessons of the fast is that when Jews do not contain themselves within the spiritual confines of Jerusalem, the Holy City, then the nations will confine us to Jerusalem, as in the sieze of Jerusalem that began on Asara B'Teves.
May we strengthen our Houses of Prayer and Houses of Study in chutz la'aretz, so that they can all be soon transplanted to their proper location in Eretz Yisrael. c 1999 by Rabbi Zev Leff and Project Genesis, Inc.
Yeshivat har etzionVirtual Beit MedrashStudent Summaries of Sichot of the Roshei Yeshiva HaRav Yehuda Amital shlit"aTranslated by David SilverbergParashat Vayigash opens with the dramatic confrontation between Yosef and Yehuda. Yosef, the Egyptian viceroy, sits motionless throughout Yehuda's monologue, until the very end. Finally, Yosef breaks down, no longer able to control his emotions, and reveals his identity to his brothers. At what point in Yehuda's speech does this occur? When Yehuda declares, "For how can I go back to my father unless the boy is with me? Let me not be witness to the woe that would overtake my father" (Bereishit 44:34). The moment he hears of his father's pain, Yosef breaks down. When Yosef sees Binyamin for the first time, he cries, but not in the presence of his brothers (43:30). The pain of his brothers did not affect him to the point where he needed to identify himself to them. Here, too, as Yehuda (the initiator of Yosef's sale) speaks of his own crisis, Yosef is unmoved. But once Yosef hears of his father's agony_ "Yosef could no longer contain himself" (45:1).
Commentaries throughout the centuries have struggled with the obvious question: if Ya'akov's suffering pained Yosef to such an extent, why did he prolong his father's agony until this point? Why did he keep his identity concealed and insist that Binyamin join his brothers in Egypt, adding further to his father's grief?
The key to the solution lies in the verse, "He [Yosef] recalled the dreams which he had dreamt about them" (42:9). Yosef remembered not the brothers' hatred and hostility, but rather the dreams about his attainment of superiority over them. The Ramban thus explains that Yosef needed to bring about the fulfillment of his prophecy, the eleven stars prostrating before him. In the absence of Binyamin, only ten "stars" were present. Yosef therefore arranged that the brothers would have to bring Binyamin, so that the prophetic dream would see its realization.
Many later commentators found the Ramban's explanation troubling. If, indeed, Yosef's dreams constituted prophecy, then it was G-d's responsibility, as it were, to ensure their fulfillment. Yosef's responsibility was to treat his father respectfully and let the Almighty decide how to fulfill Yosef's prophecies. The Abarbanel therefore suggests an alternative explanation, that Yosef wished to punish his brothers for their cruelty towards him. But this answer, too, seems difficult. Why would Yosef include Binyamin in this punishment, if Binyamin had nothing to do with the other brothers' mistreatment of Yosef? Moreover, why would Yosef cause his father such emotional turmoil just so that he could punish his brothers?
The answer to this problem requires that we reexamine the narrative of the sale of Yosef and the events preceding it. How could the brothers_ the offspring of Avraham, Yitzchak and Ya'akov_not take into account the anguish they caused to their elderly father?
We have no choice but to turn back the pages of the Chumash to the birth of Ya'akov's sons. "G-d saw that Leah was unloved and He opened her womb... She declared, 'This time I will praise G-d!' She therefore named him Yehuda" (29:31). Leah saw her first three sons as compensation for her having been disliked by her husband. Only upon the birth of her fourth child did Leah realize that the birthright had been transferred to her children, and that she had been granted more than mere recompense for her distress. Rachel, apparently, also recognized this, and thus, upon the birth of Leah's fourth son, "Rachel saw that she had borne Ya'akov no children, and she became envious of her sister..."
Leah's children were convinced that this was, in fact, the divine will, a conviction reinforced by Rachel's premature death. Ya'akov, however, was not convinced. Though Leah's children presumed that upon Rachel's passing Ya'akov would establish his permanent residence with Leah, their father moved in with Bilha, Rachel's handmaid. The oldest of Leah's sons, Reuven, assumed the responsibility to react: "Reuven went and slept with Bilha, his father's concubine." Whether we understand this verse according to its simple reading, or if we accept the Midrash's clarification that Reuven moved his father's bed from Bilha's tent to Leah's, Reuven's involvement in his father's marital life underscores the sentiment that Ya'akov's erred in his decision.
Similarly, when Ya'akov began treating Yosef as the favorite and made him a special cloak_"as a sign that he is destined to rule" (Seforno) -- the brothers were confident once again that their elderly father was severely mistaken, as his father had been before him. Their keen historical awareness led them to believe that the fulfillment of the promise to the Patriarchs would emerge specifically through their side of the family. They cast their younger brother into the pit under the assumption that they acted in accordance with the divine will, that the birthright had been transferred from the children of Rachel to the descendants of Leah. Rashi (verse 33) notes that they "included the Almighty in their oath," indicating their confident conviction that Providence offered its stamp of approval to Yosef's sale. They understood the emotional distress they would undoubtedly cause their father. They reasoned, though, that Ya'akov was bound to eventually come to the realization that he had been mistaken all along. However, this never happened: "He refused to be comforted, saying, 'No, I will go down mourning to my son in Sheol.'"
Ya'akov's children thus possessed a deep sense of historical awareness and a consciousness of destiny that they inherited from their great-grandfather, Avraham; they knew that they constituted the fulfillment of the divine promise, "I will make you into a great nation." They lacked, however, a sense of historical RESPONSIBILITY. They overlooked the fact that, by their actions, they were determining the future character of that great nation, Benei Yisrael. Therein lies the true meaning of the celebrated expression, "Ma'aseh avot siman la-banim," the actions of the forefathers foreshadow those of their children. Only Ya'akov realized this.
As Rachel's firstborn, Yosef was infused with this unique sense of responsibility, continuing the tradition of the Matriarchs' active concern for ensuring the singular character of the Nation of Israel. Sarah demands the banishment of Yishmael from her home, "for the son of this maidservant will not inherit together with my son, Yitzchak." Likewise, Rivka ensured that Avraham's blessing be passed to Ya'akov, rather than Esav.
With the emergence of the twelve tribes, the process of choosing and discarding came to an end. They all combined to form the composite whole of Kenesset Yisrael. Yosef, however, was convinced that were Rachel alive, she, like her predecessors, would have concerned herself with the moral and spiritual image of the nation. To this end, she would have undoubtedly seen to it that one of the brothers would bear the historical responsibility of ensuring that the character of Kenesset Yisrael would not be adulterated by the behavior of Ya'akov's children. The actions of the forefathers foreshadow those of their children, and thus the behavior of the twelve sons would determine the image and specific quality of the Jewish People for all time.
Aware of the critical nature of this historic task, Ya'akov encourages Yosef by making him the special cloak, "as a sign that he is destined to rule." And, indeed, indications of this awareness of Yosef's part can be detected in his behavior. "Yosef brought bad reports of them to his father" (37:2). Yosef concerns himself with his brothers' moral sensitivities, and thus informs his father of their violations with regard to the consumption of limbs of live animals and their mistreatment of the sons of the handmaids, which threatenfamily unity. Out of his extreme sensitivity to modesty, he suspected his brothers of sexual misconduct (Rashi, citing the Midrash). Not only does Ya'akov not restrain Yosef's initiatives, but, specifically in the aftermath of Yosef's negative report, Ya'akov gives him the special cloak. It almost seems that Ya'akov knowingly charges Yosef with the historical responsibility of supervising the brothers' behavior. The brothers, however, responded with scorn and rejection. Yosef understands his dreams as signifying divine approval of his appointment by his father. Whereas the brothers again react with intense hatred and hostility, "his father kept the matter in mind."
Ya'akov later summons Yosef to observe "how your brothers are and how the flocks are faring." Although Ya'akov had many servants whom he could have sent and although he was keenly aware of the animosity between Yosef and his other sons, he nevertheless insists that Yosef continue to monitor his brothers' behavior and oversee their moral and spiritual conduct.
So strong is Yosef's sense of historical mission, that even when he finally reveals his identity to his brothers, he adds, "Do not be distressed_ It was not you who sent me here, but G-d..." (45:5-8). However, his mission as guardian of family morality had been cut short when he was sold into slavery. Thus, when Yosef sees his brothers in Egypt, he once again faces an opportunity to continue his historical mission, to ensure the proper character of Kenesset Yisrael: "Yosef remembered the dreams he had dreamt about them" (42:9). Yosef recalls his special historical duty, which had been expressed through his dreams. This duty guides Yosef's treatment of the brothers from this point on.
Significantly, the narrative never mentions Yosef's anguish throughout the entire drama. We know of this only through the brothers' own confession: "Alas, we are being punished on account of our brother, because we looked on at his anguish, yet paid no heed as he pleaded with us" (42:21). The text describes only the anguish of Ya'akov. The Torah thus teaches us that the fundamental problem of fraternal hatred and mutual animosity relates not to the suffering of one part of the nation or another, but rather to the pain and anguish of "Ya'akov." In other words, the greatest tragedy of internal strife lies in the consequent damage to "Kenesset Yisrael" as a whole. The entire nation suffers, not just one segment or another.
Out of his historical responsibility, Yosef recognizes the need for his brothers to internalize this notion_that beyond the personal suffering they caused him, ignoring his cries of pain, the real crime was committed against their father, Ya'akov, the eternal symbol of the nation as a whole.
When the eternal character of Kenesset Yisrael was at stake, it was clear to Yosef that even with all the distress he caused his father, he was operating as his agent. He therefore arranged that the brothers would once again face the same situation, only this time with Binyamin. They again had to face the possibility of hurting their father_"For how can I go back to my father unless the boy is with me? Let me not be witness to the woe that would overtake my father!" The internalization of this message, that fraternal hatred damages Kenesset Yisrael as a whole, constitutes a critical prerequisite for the establishment of the character of the nation. Clearly, this eternal lesson could not prevent occasional flares of hatred throughout our history, but at every such moment this warning accompanies us like a torch, a torch with the capability to illuminate our history, to guide and enlighten, but also, Heaven forbid, to burn and destroy.
(This sicha was originally delivered on Leil Shabbat, Parashat Vayigash 5759 [1998].)
RABBI SHLOMO RISKIN
Shabbat Shalom
J
oseph, the hero of these last portions of the Book of Genesis, has a number of appellations: Joseph the Dreamer, Joseph the Grand Vizier (Mishneh L'Melech), Joseph the Righteous One. However, it seems to me that at least as fitting as the others would be the appellation Joseph the Weeper, because he_unique among all the great personalities of the Bible_is pictured four times in the Bible and a fifth time in the Midrash as one who weeps; and Joseph is hardly a weak personality who melts into tears at any crisis. Much the opposite, he demonstrates an iron will which remains obdurate and optimistic despite setbacks of near-homicide, exile and imprisonment. Moreover, during those difficult periods he does not weep, but it is rather during moments of revelation and reunion, moments which could well be described as joyous that he cannot prevent his tears. In order to understand the meaning of Joseph's weeping_and perhaps to gain an insight into the phenomenon of tears in general_let us examine the Biblical scenes which portray a weeping Joseph. The first time Joseph's tears are mentioned in the Bible is when his brothers_who do not recognize him_come to the Egyptian palace to purchase food and he charges them with espionage. When they speak in Hebrew amongst themselves_obviously assuming that the Grand Vizier does not understand their language blaming themselves for having sinned against their brother and accepting their punishment as a natural consequence of their heartless cruelty at the pit two decades before, the text records:
"And he (Joseph) turned aside from them and wept [Gen.42:24]."
Subsequently, at the very beginning of this week's Torah portion and immediately following Judah's stirring speech for clemency, we read: "And Joseph could not restrain himself before all who were standing near him;...and no man stood with him when Joseph revealed himself to his brothers. And he lifted his voice in weeping... [45:1,2]." Joseph continues to weep as he kisses each of brothers (45:14,15) -- he weeps and they do not!
Most remarkable of all is the ambiguous Biblical language, and its midrashic explication, describing the poignant meeting between Jacob and Joseph after twenty-two years of separation during which time the elderly father thought his beloved son had been torn apart by a wild beast. "And Joseph went up to greet Israel in Goshen; and he was seen by him, and he fell on his neck, and he wept on his neck very much [46:29]." Who wept on whose neck? Despite the conventional wisdom which would suggest that it must have been the aged father who wept, Rashi cites the midrash which insists that it was Joseph who wept; Jacob was otherwise occupied in reciting the Sh'ma.
Finally, after the description of Jacob's death and burial which we read in next week's Torah portion, Joseph's brothers "Saw that their father died," feared lest Joseph now punish them, and so they, told Joseph that their father commanded them before he died to tell Joseph to forgive the brothers. "And Joseph wept when they spoke with him [Gen. 50:15-17]." Why does Joseph cry so much_and especially at moments of rapprochement with his family?
My revered Rebbe and mentor, Rav Joseph B. Soloveitchik z"l, makes the very telling point that tears well up from the deepest and frankest recesses of human emotion, expressing genuine feelings that the individual himself is sometimes unaware that he possesses. The Psalmist announces Rosh Hashanah, the New Year Festival of repentance, with the charge: "Trumpet the shofar (ram's horn) on the (first of the) month, when the day of our Festival is hidden [Psalms 81:4,5]." The reference to "hiddenness" (bakeseh) relates not only to the hiddenness of the moon, since Rosh Hashanah falls out on the first of the month in a lunar calendar, but also to the hidden recesses of the human heart, from which the truest feelings of repentance must emanate. And therefore the symbol of Rosh Hashanah is the shofar (ram's horn), which expresses sounds of shevarim and truah, sighs and sobs, weeping and wailing: these cries convey concealed but very genuine feelings of remorse and angst (Soloveitchik, Days of Remembrance, Pp. 221-224)
King David, sweet psalmist of Israel, is a deeply religious poet, a unifier of the twelve tribes of Israel, a fearless warrior on behalf of G-d, and a sensitive human being who refuses an opportunity to slay King Saul although the madly jealous ruler of Israel is dedicated to David's destruction. At the same time he has an adulterous relationship with Bathsheba, sending her husband Uriah to his death in the first lines of battle. Is King David worthy of our veneration as the forerunner of the Messiah? Is he a just and good man who had a single, uncharacteristic, tragic mishap, or is he a wicked hedonist who occasionally expresses religious feelings? Will the real King David stand up!
Nathan the prophet stands before the King, presents him with an allegory of a rich farmer snatching the only ewe owned and loved by his poor neighbor, concluding with the charge: "You are that (wicked) man." King David cries out:
"I have sinned before the Lord." And in all masoretic versions of the Bible, there is an empty space following King David's confession (Samuel 2, Chapter 15). The great Gaon of Vilna comments: "It was at that point that King David wept; the empty space symbolizes his tears, the emotions which are deeper than words." King David's tears testified as to who the real King David was, and as to the ideals to which the real King David dedicated his life.
Joseph had spent twenty two years in Egypt, and certainly the last period when he was Grand Vizier and second-in-command only to Pharaoh, endeavoring to forget his jealousy-inflamed home, his brothers' hatred, his father's foolishly dangerous favoritism. He wears Egyptian garb, assumes an Egyptian name, speaks the Egyptian tongue, marries the daughter of a Priest of On, and names his eldest son Menashe "for G-d has enabled me to forget all of my toil and the entire house-hold of my father [Gen. 45:41-51]." Assuming that Joseph had his wife "convert" and maintained whatever ethical and ritual traditions he had absorbed in his youth_after all, our Sages legitimately call him Joseph the Righteous because of his moral strength to resist the temptations of the wife of Potiphar and the name of G-d which was always on his lips_he certainly harbored a great deal of resentment against his brothers and even against his father, who could not escape responsibility for the dysfunction of the family vis a vis Joseph (B.T. Shabbat 10b). Indeed, he had deeply buried all familial feelings and only wished to punish his brothers for their insensitive cruelty.
But then he meets his brothers after some two decades, face to face. And when they confess their guilt to each other, he weeps. And his weeping teaches him that despite his legitimate resentments, one can never really escape one's family, one's parental dwelling, one's earliest influences. First he is filled with longing for the innocent Benjamin, and then for his father_whose mistake, after all, was not that he loved too little but that he loved too much. Ultimately he realizes that he too contributed to his brother's hatred by his arrogance and insensitivity towards them; even after his father's death, he understands that, in the final analysis, to deny them forgiveness would be denying his own deepest feelings, would be shutting off the most genuine well springs of the most profound part of his heart and soul.
In the end, Joseph understands that to deny his family would be to deny himself. He learns this from his tears, for our tears teach all of us what we really feel and who we really are. c1999 Ohr Torah Institutions & Rabbi S. Riskin
RABBI MORDECHAI KAMENETZKY
Heartspeak
I
n one of the most dramatic episodes of the Torah, this week's portion tells us how Yoseph breaks the news that he is not just the viceroy of Egypt, but also that he is their brother. "He then kissed all his brothers and wept upon them; afterwards, his brothers conversed with him: The news was heard in Pharaoh's palace saying, "Yoseph's brothers have come!" And it was pleasing in the eyes of Pharaoh and in the eyes of his servants. Pharaoh said to Yoseph, "Say to your brothers, 'Do this_load up your animals and go directly to the land of Canaan. Bring your father and your households and come to me. I will give you the best of the land of Egypt, and you will eat the fat of the land"
Then Yoseph told his brothers, "Hurry_go up to my father and say to him, 'So said your son Yoseph_"G-d has made me master of all Egypt. Come down to me; do not delay. You will reside in the land of Goshen and you will be near to me_you, your sons, your grandchildren, your flock and your cattle, and all that is yours. I will provide for you there_for there will be five more years of famine_so you do not become destitute, you, your household, and all that is yours. "
Yoseph concludes his entreaty by showing his sincerity. "Behold! Your eyes see as do the eyes of my brother Binyamin that it is my mouth that is speaking to you. (see Genesis Chap. 45)
What does Yoseph mean, "it is my mouth that is speaking to you"? Of course it is his mouth!
Yosef realized that the brothers would be skeptical. Rashi explains he spoke in Lashon Hakodesh, the Hebrew language, as proof of his true heritage. The Ramban, however, feels that speaking Hebrew would not prove anything. Egypt was close to Canaan, and leaders were fluent in many languages. Surely they knew Hebrew, the language of a neighboring country.
Perhaps the inclusion of Binyamin and the words my mouth can shed some light on the matter.
During the beginnings of détente in the 1970s, Soviet Premier Leonid Brezhnev held a summit with President Richard Nixon. At the time, many organizations which were active in the struggle to free Soviet Jews planned a massive rally in Washington against the Russian Government. A long-time policy of Agudath Israel was not to join in unrestricted protests, as they did not want to be associated with many violent and inappropriate comments that those demonstrations often induced. In addition, the Agudah leadership worked behind the scenes to help their imprisoned brothers, using a stratagem of continued quiet diplomacy as leverage.
There was much pressure to participate in the Washington rally, which would be a clear show of Jewish resolve to be seen by Russia's top official. But it was a very delicate time in the United States for Soviet-US relations, and an ugly showing against the USSR could have a negative impact.
The President of Agudath Israel, Rabbi Moshe Sherer, ob"m, brought the question to my grandfather, Rabbi Yaakov Kamenetzky, ob"m, a senior member of the Moetzes Gedolei HaTorah, the Agudah's Council of Torah Sages which guided every aspect of Agudah policy.
His response was, "This protest in front of the Washington Monument is in the heart of the capitol of the country that has been the kind host to Torah Judaism during our sojourn here. Do you know if the Nixon Administration wants to see a big protest against the Soviet Government during these delicate negotiations?"
Rabbi Sherer, who had a relationship with the State Department, responded, "the officials said that they did not want to see protestors." My grandfather turned to Rabbi Sherer and re-stated his question. "Your job is not to find out what they said. I know what they said. Now your job is to find out what they want!"
Yoseph, in seconds, transformed from a vicious Prime Minister willing to imprison an old man's youngest son, to a once-scorned brother who is filled with love and compassion. He invites the rest of the family he just threatened moments ago to join him in Egypt. He promises to provide for them and treat them royally.
Was this a trick? Was it a ploy to get more members of Yaakov's family snarled in the net he carefully laid for the eleven who presently stood in front of him? Was Yosef acting as a spokesman for the regime of the Pharaoh who ruled the powerful land of Egypt?
Yosef responds by linking the affinity for his brother Binyamin together with his generous assurances that it is my mouth that is speaking to you. "It is my mouth," says Yoseph, not the mouth of Pharaoh. I am no spokesman for a regime. I speak with the wholesome sincerity of a blood-brother, who, unlike a bureaucrat, is wholly honest in his commitment.
When listening for the opinions of others, or even offering our own advice, we must be sure of who is really speaking and where the words are coming from. Are they our words or just words for the hour?
c 1999 Project Genesis & Rabbi M. Kamenetzky
RABBI AVI WEISS
Shabbat Forshpeis
I
n this week's reading, Yosef (Joseph) reveals himself to his brothers with the simple words "I am Yosef, is my father still alive?" (Genesis 45:3)
Commentators point out a degree of harshness in Yosef's words. Keli Yakar (Rabbi Ephraim of Luntshitz, 16c.), for example, states that, although Yosef proclaimed I am Yosef, he failed to include the words, "your brother."
Keli Yakar adds that the brothers also sense that Yosef's words "is my father still alive?" contain a rebuke. Yosef refers to Yaacov (Jacob) as his father, not as the father of his brothers. He purposely chooses these words to drive home to his brothers, that by selling Yosef, they did not show concern for their father-it was, therefore, as if Yaacov was not the father of his brothers.
The omission of the words "your brother," and the portrayal of Yaacov as Yosef's father alone startled his siblings. In the words of the Torah "and his brothers could not answer him, for they were frightened by his presence." (Genesis 45:3)
In the very next sentence, however, Yosef softens his words. (Genesis 45:4) There, he repeats, "I am Yosef," but this time as Keli Yakar notes, he deliberately adds the words "your brother." The healing process seems to have started.
The healing seems to reach another level when Yosef tells his brothers that they should not be upset at having sold him. God had a deeper plan for Yosef to save Egypt and the world from famine. In other words, from the evil of the sale, good had come. (Genesis 45:5-7) As the Yiddish expression teaches, a mensch tracht, un Gut lacht, a person thinks and God laughs.
Yosef concludes this section by strengthening his comments with the words "and now, it was not you that sent me here, but God." (Genesis 45:8) Hence, Yosef seems to take a middle path. He's part conciliatory and part harsh. Conciliatory in that he assures his brothers that it was all for the good.
Harsh in that the good did not come from them, but from God.
As Rabbi Zvi Dov Kanotopsky, in his wonderful work, "Night Of Watching" writes: "Yosef feels duty-bound to reply that all they have contributed is a transgression. They are not the senders, but the sellers. This transgression may not call for despair [as the outcome was good]_but it does call for repentance."
Having been separated from his brothers for twenty two years, the rendezvous of Yosef and his brothers contains different elements. Much like any dispute between siblings, the first words uttered by the aggrieved party is laced with contradictions-indicating that the healing process does not occur in an instant, it takes time and patience. c 1999 Hebrew Institute of Riverdale & CJC-AMCHA.
RABBI YISSOCHER FRAND
RavFrand
T
he Torah tells us that Yosef sent wagons (Agalos) laden with food to Yaakov, in order to provide proof that he was still alive [Bereshis 45:21]. There is a famous Medrash which explains that the reason Yaakov was convinced that Yosef was still alive was that this gift was really a play on words. The word Agalah [wagon] was symbolic of the word Eglah [calf]. Eglah was reminiscent of the halachic subject of Eglah Arufah [the decapitated Calf]. [Devorim 21:1-9;
Sotah Chapter 9] Yaakov and Yosef were in the middle of studying this subject, Eglah Arufah, when they were separated.
As soon as Yaakov saw the wagons, he realized that Yosef was alive, and had not even a shadow of a doubt [45:27]. Yaakov immediately associated the Agalos with the Eglah Arufah, the last halachic section they had studied.
I would like to relate a very interesting incident that happened in the time of the Gaon of Vilna. Apparently, a couple had gotten married, and immediately after the wedding the husband vanished. He was never heard from again. The wife was an Agunah [a 'chained' wife]; she was unable to remarry because she was still married to her vacant husband, and the Beis Din had no way to know whether her husband was not, in fact, still alive.
Thirty years later, a fellow walked into town, went to this woman and announced, "I'm home". The halachic question was_do we believe this fellow who claims to be the husband, or not? People change a tremendous amount in thirty years, but still, no one recognized the man. This was a very serious matter, involving an Eishes Ish [a married woman].
On the other hand, the fellow did not come unprepared. The man told the woman things that only the husband could conceivably have known. He told her all about the wedding. He even knew intimate information about her. The man provided seemingly undeniable proof that he must be the husband. The details that he presented were all things which ostensibly only the husband could have known.
The Vilna Gaon was consulted regarding whether or not the man could be believed. The Vilna Gaon told them to take the man into the shul [synagogue] and ask him to identify his makom kavuah [regular seat] where he used to pray. They took the man into the shul and asked him to identify his regular seat. The man was unable to identify his makom kavuah. The Gaon then identified the person as a fraud and a liar. Why?
This person wanted to trick the poor woman... He obviously had spoken to the real husband and bothered to find out many "important" details, but since he was not an honest, G-d-fearing, Jew, he did not bother to find out about matters of spirituality (Devorim she'b'Kedusha). The man could identify the color of his suit on the wedding day, the color of the flowers, the name of the band, all the 'foolish' matters. But there is one thing that a person who does not take his Judaism seriously will not think about finding out: the Devorim she'b'Kedusha, the holy matters in the life of a Jew.
The important thing in our lives is not what color our car is. The important thing in our lives is where we pray in synagogue, what tractate of Talmud we are studying, etc. Therefore the Gaon knew that this person was a con artist and was not the real husband.
We learn this lesson from Yosef and Yaakov. When Yosef wanted to give undeniable proof to his father Yaakov that he was indeed Yosef, the incontrovertible piece of evidence he presented was the halachic portion that they were studying. On the day that Yosef left, what was the 'Daf' [folio of Talmud] that they studied? What was the 'sugyah' [Talmudic subject] that they were studying? That is the way serious Jews identify themselves. Not by where they went fishing together, nor by where they played ball together, nor by all the other foolish aspects of life. Yosef identified himself to Yaakov by the essence of Jewish identity_the Torah topic that they last discussed.
The Vilna Gaon was not engaged in miraculous revelation. This was just common sense. A Jew knows where he prays and where he learns_because those are the key aspects of his life. c 1999 Project Genesis & Rabbi Y. Frand
RABBI A. LEIB SCHEINBAUM
Peninim on the Torah
"Y
ou shall dwell in the land of Goshen, and you shall be near to me, you and your children and your children's children...and all that is yours." (45:10) Why did Hashem choose Goshen as the home for the newly arriving Jewish immigrants? Rashi in Sefer Vayikra comments that Goshen was the most morally depraved area in Egypt. The Egyptian people were the most licentious, immoral people in the world and Goshen was the nadir of Egyptian depravity. This makes our question even stronger: Why Goshen? Furthermore, Yosef seems to emphasize that if they were to live in Goshen, they and their children and grandchildren would remain closer to him. What is it about Goshen that would potentially catalyze this closeness?
Horav Zaidel Epstein, Shlita, suggests that this question alludes to the age old debate: Is it better to send our children to be among those people who are of low moral character, who are clearly base and reprehensible_ or to those that are beinonim, average people, who like so many around us maintain a semblance of decency while concealing that they are acceding to our society's present state of morality? Simply, one would believe that it is best to remain among the average person rather than to be exposed to apparent evil. There is a school of thought that disagrees, however, contending that it is easier to raise children in an environment in which the lines of demarcation between "them" and "us" are clearly discernible. It is more difficult to protect our children from those who outwardly "act" moral, "speak" virtuous, go through the "motions" of being observant, but inwardly are the converse. Yosef felt that in Goshen, the nadir of Egypt's depravity, he could more easily define the difference between good and bad. Thus, he would be better able to protect his brothers, their families, and the ensuing generations. If they were to live in Goshen, so that they would remain close to him geographically, they could not err in assimilating with a people that was clearly immoral. This geographic proximity would serve to maintain their spiritual integrity and relationship to Yosef and his way of life.
