The Courage to Rise

Parashat Vayigash: Genesis 44:18–47:27 

Ben Volman, UMJC Canadian Regional Director 

It is a moment when all seems lost. The sons of Israel were convinced that they had finally been reconciled with the intimidating vizier of Egypt. But their caravan had barely left the city gates, burdened down with crucial provisions, when they were overtaken by the vizier’s steward. He accused them of something impossible, stealing his master’s silver goblet. Despite their protests of innocence, after a careful search, the goblet was pulled out of Benjamin’s sack. In utter despair, they had turned back to face the most powerful man under Pharaoh. Now, this inscrutable Egyptian, who somehow had suspected the bloodguilt that stained their consciences, would have nothing to restrain his rage. There is even a painful note of confession from Judah as they are all prostrate before him: “God has revealed your servants’ guilt” (Gen 44:16).

And then—vayigash —Judah “approached” (CJB) or as others translate it, “went up” (NIV) to speak. Rabbinical tradition insists that we thoroughly study all that transpires from this heart-rending, humble intercession. He does not plead for himself, not even for the youth, but for the elderly father whose life is bound up with the fate of his youngest brother. Judah does not deny the vizier’s full right to exercise justice, but only begs to take his brother’s place. 

The rabbis (Gen Rabbah 93:6) want us to consider all the scriptural nuances of the word vayigash that can be seen here: it is used before a charge into battle (2 Sam 10:13), a bold act of conciliation (Josh 14:6), and a prophet’s earnest call to prayer (1 Kings 18:36). We read the same word describing Avraham’s audacity as he bravely intercedes for the righteous who may yet be in Sodom (Gen 18:23). Judah’s courage in stepping forward is fully resonant with each of these situations.

All through the previous sidra, Mikketz, Joseph tested his brothers and each challenge, right up to this last one, revealed the hidden guilt for which they have no excuse. After all, what was the young Joseph’s offense when they sold him into slavery—being a dreamer? But each test had been equally difficult for Joseph who could not show them his tears. Now, Judah’s intercession is also a test for Joseph, who hears his brother’s mature note of compassion, regret, and even brokenness of spirit. “I couldn’t bear to see my father so overwhelmed with anguish” (Gen 44:34). How many of us, like Joseph, can look back with regret at our youthful arrogance and recall how we once imagined that the world should revolve around our dreams and shallow conceit? Until this moment, the man who had been sold into slavery and unjustly imprisoned for years had been holding them to account, but the one who has the right to judge may also choose to forgive.

To Judah’s brothers, anxiously waiting for a verdict, the sudden cry from the vizier for his attendants to leave the room is terrifying. For Joseph, weeping as he finally breaks all pretense of being a stranger, the time has come for healing. At first, when his brothers heard him speak, saying “Ani Yoseph”—“I am Joseph”—they recoiled in fear even before they could fully comprehend what was happening. But then, like a beloved brother, Joseph bids them to draw closer. There is no blame or reproach for the past. Everything has happened according to God’s purpose: “it was God who sent me ahead of you to preserve life” (Gen 45:5).

This is a man who is truly reconciled to the will of God. His message is an empowering word of life, first for his brothers, but also his father. When they arrive home and share the news, Israel can hardly believe it. We read that only “when he saw the wagons which Yosef had sent... the spirit of Ya’akov their father began to revive. Israel said, ‘Enough! My son Yosef is still alive! I must go and see him before I die” (Gen 45:27, 28). In a final plot twist to the story of Jacob who had spent decades in exile from the land of promise, he goes down to Egypt with God’s blessing. The God of his father tells him, “It is there that I will make you into a great nation. Not only will I go down with you to Egypt; but I will also bring you back here again, after Yosef has closed your eyes” (Gen 46:3–4).

A year ago, I was also writing on Vayigash for this commentary series, and I felt compelled to speak about faith that inspires hope in the shadow of difficult times. This year, it feels even harder to understand what is happening in the midst of our trials. But as I look at this story, I can’t help being inspired by Judah’s courage, stepping forward for the sake of his brothers. As we look around at a world enflamed with antisemitism, we require that courage, trusting that God will not fail to uphold his promises to Israel. And we need to be strengthened in the Spirit by Yeshua, who first engaged us, and rose to bring life when it seemed that all was lost.  

At times like this, it’s tempting to retreat and withdraw. It takes courage of heart to keep praying, to stay engaged with God, and to remember that the gates of prayer never close. Even in the darkest times, there are miracles to remind us how God is still reshaping history. In 1933, just a few months after the Nazis came to power in Germany, the young Abraham Joshua Heschel had submitted his brilliant dissertation on the prophets at the University of Berlin and passed the oral exams, but couldn’t receive a doctorate until the work was published. Unable to pay the cost, he needed to find a publisher. The book, Die Prophetie, was finally sponsored in 1935 by the Polish Academy of Sciences and somehow received official permission for a book by a Jewish author to be received into Nazi German bookstores. Without the degree Heschel would never have escaped Europe, and despite endless complications, he left Warsaw for England just weeks before the Germans invaded Poland. Heschel re-wrote his dissertation in English and it was published in 1962 as The Prophets. It remains an influential volume, but not only among Bible scholars.

Some months ago, in a documentary featuring the late, revered Congressman John Lewis, who had survived the dogs and billysticks of the Alabama State Police in Selma on the Edmund Pettus Bridge, he spoke about the inspiration that he and his friends found in Heschel’s book, underlining passages on every page. He was one of the hundreds who marched behind Martin Luther King and beside him, Abraham Joshua Heschel, across the bridge from Selma on their way to the Alabama state capital. Heschel famously wrote later, “Legs are not lips and walking is not kneeling. And yet our legs uttered songs. Even without words, our march was worship. I felt like our legs were praying.” Vayigash, indeed. May we, also, be so fully engaged with God’s purposes for us during these challenging times.

 All Scripture citations, unless otherwise noted, are from the Complete Jewish Bible.