Vayigash

Vayigash - Shoshana Boyd Gelfand

Shoshana Boyd Gelfand is currently serving as a strategy and projects consultant for the Reform Movement and faculty member at Leo Baeck College. Previously, she was Vice President of the Wexner Heritage Foundation in New York.

"We have the same approach."

Where might one hear this sentence? A relieved patient speaking to her doctor about attitudes towards healthcare? A panicked airline pilot overhearing instructions to a colleague to land on the same runway? Or perhaps in an imagined conversation between our ancestor Abraham and his great-grandson Judah?

Regarding the third option, it is striking that while the verb vayigash ("and he approached") is used frequently in the Torah, there are only two occurrences where it comes immediately preceding a petition of some sort: There is the case of Abraham who petitions God to save the inhabitants of Sodom and Gemorrah. Then, in our parasha, following the word vayigash, Judah approaches Joseph to ask that Benjamin be spared. Both are cases of a Jewish leader stepping forward and approaching a powerful authority to petition on behalf of someone else. Both are seminal moments in the lives of the speaker, in that they entail taking a risk in order to save another.

I like to consider both of these "approaches" as tikkunim (repairs/healings) for yet a third character who failed to take that risk on behalf of another (and in fact, did the opposite by violently attacking his brother). The earlier story of Cain explicitly raises the question of responsibility for others. When God asks Cain "Where is Abel, your brother?" it cannot be that God does not know the simple answer to the question, for God soon after reveals that "The voice of your brother's blood cries out to Me from the ground!" God's question, therefore, must have a purpose beyond information. Perhaps it is an opportunity for Cain to "approach" and take responsibility for his brother (which he obviously does not do). One could indeed read the remainder of the book of Genesis as God waiting (and hoping?) that someone will indeed "approach" and say the equivalent of "Yes, I am my brother's keeper". That hope is fulfilled by both Abraham and Judah, but in slightly different contexts, and from those differences we learn much.

Both Abraham and Judah clearly demonstrate that they are their brothers' keepers. Strikingly, however, they define "brother" differently: Abraham defines his brother in universal terms, stepping forward to take responsibility for the non-Jewish inhabitants of Sodom and Gemorrah. Judah, on the other hand, steps forward to save his literal brother, Benjamin, thereby defining the term more parochially. Both characters, however, contribute something essential to our understanding of what it means to be "our brother's keeper." Likewise, both characters represent fundamental aspects of our identity as Jews: Abraham because he is the first Jew and therefore initially defines what it means to be a Jew; and Judah (Yehudah) because he ultimately becomes the one from whom we derive our name Yehudi ("Jew").

We read Parashat Vayigash in the darkest time of the year, the Shabbat right after Hanukah, which is the holiday that raises the question of our relationship to the larger world around us. It would be so easy following Hanukah to read about Judah's "approach" in Vayigash and be inspired to step forward and take responsibility for other Jews (our "brothers") while forgetting that part of the Jewish definition of brotherly responsibility comes from our other ancestor, Abraham, who stepped forward to take responsibility for non-Jewish brothers. Thus, the word vayigash connects Abraham and Judah and reminds us to be concerned about both our immediate "family" and our extended "human family". This dual responsibility is what defines us as Jews and what will ultimately lead to the increase in light and holiness for which we all hope and pray.