Continuing the Legacy of Rabbi Dovid Winiarz of blessed memory
“And Yosef could not hold back for all those who were standing there...” (Beraishis 45:1)
Yehuda’s soliloquy did not take place in a private audience. Though the brothers were having a special meeting with the Viceroy, and others were not invited to eat in the palace, they were not alone. Yosef’s court was full of courtiers, ministers, and even visitors awaiting their turn to plead their cases before the highest power in the land next to Pharaoh. The crowd was moved by Yehuda’s words and the plight of the poor, misguided youth who dared pilfer the Viceroy’s silver goblet. They looked to Yosef to see him exhibit mercy and magnanimity.
Feeling overwhelmed with emotion, Yosef wanted to be alone with his brothers so he could reveal his true identity, proven by the fact that he knew they sold him, something they had all been sworn to secrecy about. Even the people who brought him to Egypt had bought him from people who bought him from others, so the brothers were well-distanced from the story.
Unable to wait for everyone to file out in a leisurely fashion, Yosef cried out for everyone to leave his presence, which they all did, save for his brothers. Rashi says he couldn’t bear for the Egyptians to hear the embarrassing and negative words that his brothers had sold him. While Yosef was able to reconcile that what they did was a result of Hashem’s decree, the Egyptians would not be so forgiving and it would be a disgrace to Yaakov’s family.
Others say Yosef was in a heightened emotional state and could not focus on the needs of the individuals waiting to earn his favor with their own heartbreaking stories. Therefore, he needed everyone to leave the room. But what was Yosef unable to hold himself back from? What had gotten him so emotionally charged?
The last two things Yehuda said were the linchpins to the whole story. Yosef knew the brothers had sinned against him and against Yaakov, but he also knew it was because they didn’t realize the gravity of their deed. That’s why he set up this whole set of circumstances where Binyomin was in jeopardy.
Unlike when Yosef was a lad, he now saw Yehuda take responsibility for his younger brother, even to the point of sacrificing himself. More than that, he expressed concern for his father’s feelings should Binyomin not return. That was what Yosef had been waiting for all along.
True, he had longed for closeness to his brothers from childhood, but that could not be. Joining the line of those who wanted something they could not fully have (Rachel wanting children, Yaakov wanting Rachel’s love, Leah wanting Yaakov’s love and attention) Yosef still wanted his brothers to be capable of giving that love. He wanted them to improve to be the best they could be, and this is why he’d originally spoken to his father about their shortcomings. He wanted them to progress and develop, and now he saw they had arrived.
It was this watershed moment, the culmination of his life’s goal to help his family to grow, that overwhelmed Yosef and he started to break down. He needed to respond in the moment and revel with pride and relief at how far his brothers had come. That could not wait.
STORY TIME!
A Russian Jew once struck up a conversation with his seatmate on a bus in Israel, and in the course of the conversation, described himself as a Yom Kippur Jew. His seatmate immediately thought that he meant that he went to shul only once a year on Yom Kippur. However, the Russian Jew explained to his new friend that he was referring to something else.
He was a soldier in the Russian army following WWII. In order to avoid serving on Yom Kippur, every year he would feign illness. Each Yom Kippur, he would show up at the army doctor and moan over his "toothache" and beg to have his tooth pulled. After his tooth was pulled, he was freed from his duties for the rest of the day. The Russian Jew flashed a toothless smile to his seatmate, and said, "I was in the army for six years and I lost six teeth this way, but at least I never worked on Yom Kippur."
