Parasha Vayigash
By Michael R. Mantell, Ph.D.
SAN DIEGO — For those who cherish the gift of life and all the possibilities it brings, striving for a gentle life makes sense. Forgiveness is one path to a more peaceful, soothing, and kinder life. This week’s Torah reading provides a way to move towards this life, with Joseph’s heroism, understanding, tolerance, and compassionate forgiveness as our blueprint. After all, forgiveness, redemption, and growth are always central to our lives, and especially in current times.
In revealing himself to his brothers, Joseph had choice words for them. He could have chided them, taunted them, and called their misdeeds upon them. He didn’t. All he wanted to know is, “How is father feeling? Is it true that he survived the tragedy of my sale? Is he still able to come see me?”
Often when we are wronged, we have opportunities to harp on the conduct of those who’ve tried to harm us. In his opening revelation Joseph didn’t. He picked up the pieces. He did not choose to discuss past deeds that were dead and gone. He just wanted to speak about the future, his father, and his destiny. In contemporary times we learn the message, “if you can’t be positive, then at least be quiet.”
This is a lesson of critical importance to all of us. We sometimes do not appreciate how profoundly the things we do and say may impact others. Certainly, our children deserve that we bring them up with warmth, sensitivity, and strong values. If we do, they will always hold their heads a little higher, because we will have given them the confidence and positive self-awareness that will nourish them for the rest of their lives., if it be God’s will (IY”H.) But even in our myriad daily contacts with other people, we can do so much with a gentle helping hand, a kind word, a simple smile.
One lesson this week, through Joseph’s vulnerability, is that where repair is possible, let’s be willing to be vulnerable, to speak from the heart, not blindly – Joseph used proper caution – but with openness and compassion, understanding what Rabbi Moshe Ibn Ezra, the distinguished philosopher, able linguist, and powerful poet, teaches “Dvarim hayotzim min halev nichnasim halev,” “Words that come from the heart, enter the heart.”
Another lesson is reinforcing the Jewish way to view adversity, not “Why is this happening to me,” but more wisely, “What can I learn from this?” Our mission is to find meaning in every experience, as Joseph did through his faith and trust in Hashem, seeing positive meaning, good, in everything that has occurred in his life. We can focus on the suffering, or the opportunities we are provided through suffering to find other ways to come closer to each other, to focus more on what is truly important and meaningful in our lives, to enrich ourselves with relationships and non-material values. Perhaps for many, the pandemic has been a time to grow in the ability to accept life and see it through the lens of “what can be learned,” rather than angrily demanding that life must be different. Contemporary research suggests that a positive mindset, one that sees the good in adverse situations, results in better health and often fewer symptoms from illness.
This is what an emotionally healthy response to suffering is all about. When we see that something good can come from the heartache of life, we can thrive and grow through adversity, not just go through it. When we practice the pause and find greater meaning in daily life, we bring a more peaceful melody to our heartbeat. Joseph tells his brothers, what is in the rearview mirror is no longer in anyone’s control, only the way we look at it can enable us to shape the future. Praying for a better past is useless.
Viktor E. Frankel, author of Man’s Search for Meaning, observed that many of those in the camps thought life’s possibilities had passed. He believed instead in the opportunity and challenge given to those: “One could make a victory of these experiences, turning life into an inner triumph, or one could ignore the challenge and simply vegetate, as did a majority of the prisoners.”
Recall that Joseph, not the first in the Chumash to show tears, wept at least eight times in the Torah, more than any other person we learn about. Rashi teaches that Joseph’s willingness to reveal his authentic feelings, through crying so loudly that all of Egypt could hear him, demonstrates Joseph’s willingness to make himself vulnerable with true compassion.
And he wept out loud, so the Egyptians heard, and the house of Pharaoh heard.
And Joseph said to his brothers, “I am Joseph. Is my father still alive?” but his brothers could not answer him because they were startled by his presence.
>Then Joseph said to his brothers, “Please come closer to me,” and they drew closer. And he said, “I am your brother Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt.
But now do not be sad, and let it not trouble you that you sold me here, for it was to preserve life that God sent me before you.
Joseph asked his attendants to clear the room before speaking with his brothers, to protect his brother’s honor – not his own. Joseph spoke from the heart. He assured his brothers that all was from Hashem’s plan, that he would not seek revenge…and openly cried. Joseph “reframed” the situation in his thinking, that allowed him to find meaning, to approach his brothers differently.
We see how far Joseph is teaching us we would be wise to go to avoid embarrassing another. Joseph weeps loudly, and says, “I am your brother Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt.” The Ohr HaChaim wonders on the use of the seemingly superfluous words, “your brother,” what message Joseph is conveying. He suggests Joseph is saying, “Even when you sold me down to Egypt, I was still your brother. Even in the midst of that incredibly challenging time, I still loved you and felt connected to you.” The Sfat Emet holds that the word, “whom,” “asher,” is related to “yasher kochacha,” or gratitude, congratulations. So, the Sfat Emet is suggesting that when Joseph uses this word, he is hinting at a mindset of congratulations, of appreciation for being sold down to Egypt, recognizing that it enabled him to support his family. This change in perspective, this positive vision, helped him move from bitterness to gratitude.
Let’s learn the rich psychological “mussar” lesson here. Adapting to change and adverse circumstances are difficult challenges. Holding on to rigid, extreme attitudes to change is at the core of emotional disturbance. We see inside the Torah reading, the value of self-awareness, high frustration tolerance, flexibility, and unconditional life-acceptance. These are goals we can all achieve, IY”H.
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Michael R. Mantell, Ph.D., prepares a weekly D’var Torah for Young Israel of San Diego, where he and his family are members. They are also active members of Congregation Adat Yeshurun. He may be contacted via michael.mantell@sdjewishworld.com
This is wonderful. Thank you!
Thank you very much, Mark….