Parashat Vayigash 5786

A D’var Torah for Parashat Vayigash

By Rabbi Anat Katzir (AJR ’22)

“The connection of shared grief and the inspiration of shared destiny.”

I sat down to begin writing my D’var Torah with an idea of exactly what I wanted to write about. Thinking ahead about the parashah there was a moment in the story that always stuck out in my memory. The moment that Joseph asks his brothers not to tell Pharaoh that they are shepherds and you could almost imagine him face-palming when Pharaoh asks: “what is your profession?” And they respond “we are shepherds…”

This moment has been a favorite of mine in the simple irony, with Joseph being a character that can’t seem to filter himself, sharing truths in the most blunt way throughout his story. I have always been inspired by the overarching sense that the truth has such great power that is comes out of you even when you try to avoid it. It may have consequences, but it weaves a path that seems to have divine oversight.

But then a curious thing happened. A rookie mistake really, I read the parashah again. And I got stuck on a verse and couldn’t move from it. It was like it grabbed at my soul:

“…ונפשו קשורה בנפשו.”, “ His own life is bound up with his” (Gen. 44:30)

The statement Judah uses to plead with Pharaoh’s adviser (not yet recognizing Joseph) for Benjamin’s life, expressing the bond and dependency that Jacob, his father, has with Benjamin.

The idea of lives linked – the bond that is expressed by Judah – tells us of a deep connection. A complicated one. That linked not only Jacob and Benjamin, but Jacob and Judah.

Judah shares the conversation he had with his father leading up to that understanding. Jacob shares with Judah his fear about Benjamin. Naming the uniqueness of their bond: If he is taken, it is as if my white head is dragged to Sheol. You are taking my child, if he meets disaster-it is the end of me as well.

I wonder what it would have felt like to be Judah. Why is Judah the one Jacob opens up to about this deep bond, why is he the one Jacob trusts with Benjamin?

In Tosefta Berakhot 4:16, Rabbi Tarfon poses a similar question about Judah asking why the tribe of Judah merited kingship over the tribes.

There were several suggested answers- admitting he impregnated Tamar and making sure she and her children are cared for, or the fact that he convinced his brothers not to kill Joseph, but the main reason for this honor, according to Rabbi Tarfon, is the moment he offers himself to Joseph in place of Benjamin. This dramatic offer comes after Judah shares with Joseph the exchange he had with his father and why he can’t allow for his father to suffer this loss.

I wonder, in imagining the interaction between Judah and Jacob, what would it feel like to hear your elderly father, who you are caring for, who you are journeying to find food for in a time of great need so that your tribe can survive, tell you that what he cares about the most is your younger brother.  Hearing your father say that “his wife gave him two sons” dismissing your mother, the mothers of your brothers.

What does it feel like hearing the pain of loss, the grief over Joseph knowing that you and your brothers have caused it?

Judah has to carry the burden of caring for his brother realizing that his father’s soul is connected to his sibling’s. That he would bear the guilt if something were to go wrong. That he is living with the guilt of losing Joseph.

Jacob is a bereaved father, speaking from fear and pain. But so is Judah. Judah is the one who lost two of his three sons. Judah is the one who was willing to break the rules in order to protect his third son and deal with the consequences. This is not just a conversation between a father and a son, this is a conversation between two fathers who suffered the most painful of losses.

The dynamic of grief in families feels so complicated. The Torah opens up such a meaningful conversation for us about the emotions and tensions of families dealing with loss. Depression, guilt, blame, distrust, are just a few that come up for us.

I believe that it is those complicated dynamics, that combination of emotions that makes Judah the person that Jacob trusts and the one who would stand up and offer himself in place of Benjamin.

I also think it is no coincidence that the conversation of the bereaved parents is held between Judah-Yehudah and Jacob-Yisrael. The one that we, the Jewish people are named for, and the one the state of Israel is named for. Some would argue that it feels like the bond between the Jewish people and Israel relies on the shared grief. On the history of pain. For many years it felt in many spaces that Jewish education, including the education I received in Israel, placed a significant focus on the shared history of persecution and pain. It was a glue that held the Jewish people together, a responsibility to carry on “in spite”, but it feels like there has been a meaningful shift in education and in identity for liberal Jews both in Israel and beyond. It shifted towards a focus on positive identity. Our role in designing, shaping, and being voices and agents of morality, humanitarian values, inspired by our faith and tradition.

Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik wrote in his essay “קול דודי דופק” translated as “Listen-my Beloved Knocks”, about “ברית ייעוד”- Covenant of Destiny, and “ברית גורל”- Covenant of Fate. The Covenant of Destiny is chosen out of free will, it is active, not passive, it is purposeful, according to R. Soloveitchik, it is “..the result of conscious direction and free will” a testament to values and morals. While the Covenant of Fate is, according to Soloveitchik, “an existence of compulsion. A strange force that merges all individuals into one unit;” a forced identity based on the shared narrative/history.

In making the choice to change Benjamin’s fate, in stepping up and not allowing the history of loss to repeat itself, Judah is choosing, in my mind, a Covenant of Destiny. An expression of values and fulfillment of a promise not to let loss become the narrative.

The past years in the world have been marked with insurmountable loss. By overwhelming grief. From a worldwide deadly pandemic, to wars and attacks of terror that have reached almost every part of the world. For some, October 7th created a bond between Israel and Jews of the world that is based on loss. But as mentioned, grief in a family is very complicated. Throughout my life I have seen families torn apart or pull together in the face of unimaginable grief. The last two years have, once again, brought these losses closer to home. I look for inspiration in those who find meaning in the covenant of the shared destiny. Those who translated their grief into a shared bond. A promise to try not to continue playing the same game, falling into the same patterns, but fighting for a change together for the sake of a new future for the children who are still alive. Organizations such as the “Israeli-Palestinian Bereaved Families for Peace”.  Over 800 bereaved family members started by bringing together participants from Israel and Palestinians from Gaza originally, then from the West Bank and East Jerusalem. Their shared Destiny: “to provide a safe and transformative space for bereaved Israelis and Palestinians to share their personal stories, understand each other’s narratives, and recognize the humanity of the “other.” Through these encounters, we aim to break cycles of fear, violence, and dehumanization.”

This group has been challenged and scrutinized by both Israelis and Palestinians, they were called out for disrespecting the commemoration of Yom HaZikaron- honoring of grief and loss as a national narrative. One that binds many in a Covenant of Fate. But their values and message were powerful for them and they didn’t accept the boundaries of the nationalist narrative.

While there are many places to agree or disagree politically about paths for Israel, one of the main questions for Israelis and for Jews around the world is how do we move forward? I wish I held the answer. But I am hopeful in holding the connection with others who wish to build, to rebuild, to prevent the repetition of the same actions leading us and our children to enduring more loss. A Covenant of Destiny, one of strong values protecting our children and theirs.

In some ways, I guess I didn’t stray too far from my original thought. There is a power in following the truth even when social norms struggle to accept it. And yes, there is also a thoughtfulness about how to bring your truth and how you share it. And that it can lead to a future of change and growth and survival.