Parsha
By Adin Even-Israel (Steinsaltz)
Parshat Vayigash deals primarily with the events surrounding Jacob’s arrival in Egypt. After many tribulations, Joseph reconciles with his brothers, Jacob arrives in Egypt and finally reunites with Joseph, and the story comes to a close. By the time we reach Parshat Vayechi, we are already dealing with Jacob’s death and his final reckoning with his sons.
As a rule, the haftarah traditionally associated with each parshah emphasizes the central elements of that parshah as understood by our sages, and in effect constitutes a form of interpretation of the entire parshah. Sometimes the connection between the haftarah and parshah is clear and obvious, and sometimes it is so remote that, in order to understand why the sages paired a particular haftarah with a particular parshah, one must sit down and think.
In the case of the haftarah associated with Parshat Noach, for example, the only similarity to the parshah seems to be the appearance of the words “the waters of Noah.” When there are divergent opinions and customs regarding which haftarah we read – as in the cases of Parshat Vayishlach or Parshat Vayeitzei, for example – these disputes usually revolve around the question of what the parshah’s essential point is.
The essence of Parshat Vayigash would appear to be the descent to Egypt, but the haftarah, which relates Ezekiel’s prophecy of the stick of Judah and the stick of Ephraim, shifts the focus away from this subject to the meeting, or perhaps clash, of Joseph and Judah. This, according to the haftarah, is the essence of the parshah; everything else is ancillary material.
Judah and Joseph
The Joseph-Judah relationship and the points at which their paths converge continue throughout history. From the sale of Joseph onward, Judah and Joseph constantly interact with each other, and their relationship continues in various forms. Here, in Parshat Vayigash, their interaction is a confrontation, as the Midrash comments, “‘Then Judah went up to him’ – advancing to battle.” The Midrash views this confrontation as a momentous event, adding, “‘For lo, the kings converged’ – this refers to Judah and Joseph; ‘they grew angry together’ – this one was filled with anger for that one, and that one was filled with anger for this one.” This is an epic clash between two kings, one that continues to occur in various forms throughout history.
There are times and places where the Joseph-Judah relationship is one of cooperation and even love. In the battle against Amalek, the leadership of the People of Israel consists of Moses, Aaron, and two other people: Chur, a member of the tribe of Judah, stands by Moses’ side opposite Aaron, while Joshua, from the tribe of Joseph, leads the actual war. This connection appears again in the story of the spies, where Joshua and Caleb are the only two spies who refrain from “spreading calumnies about the land.” Moses himself is connected by blood to the tribe of Judah (Aaron married the sister of the tribe’s prince, Nachshon the son of Aminadav, and Miriam, Chur’s mother, was married to Caleb the son of Yefuneh). On the other hand, Joshua – of the tribe of Joseph – is his close disciple.
This duality does not end there but continues through the generations. The Shiloh Tabernacle stood in the territory of Ephraim for over 300 years, whereas the Temple was built in Jerusalem, on the border of the territories of Judah and Benjamin. The dirges of Ezekiel feature the sisters Ohola and Oholiva, who correspond to the kingdoms of Judah and Israel: “Ohola is Samaria, and Oholiva is Jerusalem.” In the royal house, although Saul is not from a tribe of Joseph, he is a descendant of Joseph’s mother Rachel, while David is from the tribe of Judah. The encounter between them is one of antagonism, but, as if to balance out that animosity, we read of a parallel and opposite relationship: the friendship and love between Jonathan and David. There is Joshua and there is Caleb; the tribe of Judah and the tribes of Joseph; the Kingdom of Judah and the Kingdom of Israel; David and Jonathan. We see that this duality is woven throughout our history, to the point that we ourselves are an example of it: The Jewish people today consists solely of descendants of Judah and Benjamin.
This complicated relationship between Joseph and Judah, in all its manifestations, continues to persist, and will continue until the end of days: Even our eschatological texts describe a division between the Messiah son of David and the Messiah son of Joseph.
Glory and Eternity
The meeting of Joseph and Judah in Parshat Vayigash illuminates one aspect of their relationship. On the larger historical plane, Joseph possesses an aspect of glory that Judah lacks, in the real sense and in the esoteric sense. At their first meeting, members of the tribe of Joseph almost always overshadow members of Judah. Even from birth, Joseph has an advantage: He is smarter, more handsome, more successful, and more loved. In this respect he lives up to his characterization as the sun in his famous dream, in that he is far more lustrous than his peers, while Judah appears inferior from the very beginning.
This paradigm follows here as well. How do they meet? Joseph, unofficially the king of Egypt, meets with Judah, a peasant shepherd from some remote place. Joseph stands there in all his glory, and facing him, “Judah went up to him.”
What, in comparison to Joseph, does Judah have to offer? What is unique about him? It appears that Judah’s unique point is continuity and endurance. Judah perseveres, as he did when he admitted his responsibility to Tamar, and this is a point that can be observed in the cases of many other members of his tribe. Joseph outshines Judah with respect to glory, but as for perseverance and staying power – “‘and the eternity’ refers to Jerusalem” – Joseph, for all his nobility, does not measure up.
Judah perseveres because he has the advantage of being able to fall, as it says, “Though he may fall, he is not utterly cast down.” When Judah falls, he is able to get up again. This is Judah’s special quality; it is part of his essence.
The point of “Judah went up to him” is that Judah, in spite of being a person of minor importance – the contrast between his and Joseph’s appearance must have been striking – nevertheless dares to approach the king. To some extent, this evokes the way in which Saul meets with David. Saul is the king, and David is a youth brought in from tending the flock to entertain Saul.
Intrinsic to Joseph and his descendants is a sort of perfection, but this perfection is very fragile: When something breaks, they are unable to fix it. For Joseph, every situation is all or nothing, whereas Judah is adept at raising himself up again.
For an example of this dichotomy, one must look no further than Saul and David. Saul and David both sinned. The difference between them is the following: After Saul “breaks” once, he breaks again a second time and a third time. Though Saul came from a distinguished family and was considered “of greater stature than all the people” – a courageous warrior; a humble, modest, and worthy individual; a pure soul – when he falls, he is unable to get up. When Saul sins, he reaches a state in which he is ready to die and is also willing to accept the entire punishment he deserves. In contrast, when David sins, he draws new wisdom and maturity from the experience, penning the book of Psalms in its wake. This is quite an accomplishment! King David can sink low, but he can channel that low point in his life into real spiritual growth. This is something that Joseph, by his very nature, cannot do.
This difference surfaces again when the Kingdom of Israel is divided in two, with the House of Joseph and the House of Judah going separate ways. Upon reading the assessment of the midrashim of the characters involved, it is clear whom our sages favored.
Yerovam is an exalted and impressive figure, a man chosen by God to rule over the ten tribes of Israel. No matter what we think of him, he is certainly an extraordinary personality, as demonstrated by a series of talmudic anecdotes: He is capable of rebuking King Solomon when the latter is at the height of his glory. When Yerovam is together with Achiyah the Shilonite, all the wise men are like the grass of the field in comparison with them, and God says to Yerovam, “Repent, and then I and you and the son of Jesse will stroll together in the Garden of Eden.”
Facing Yerovam is Rechavam. Who is Rechavam? On the whole, he is a man who is a bit confused, who does not know what to do exactly with the fairly large kingdom that he inherited and which, through ill-advised harshness and imprudent softness, he manages to lose. Besides this, we are told little of Rechavam.
Nevertheless, Yerovam – who certainly was a great man and a far greater scholar than Rechavam – is among those who have no share in the World to Come. He sinned and caused others to sin, and there is no way to atone for this. Rechavam may not have been a righteous king or an especially significant king, but he carried on the line of the House of David. No royal line of the kings of Joseph manages to last more than a few generations. By contrast, the kings of the House of David – who certainly count some wicked men in their number – are able to build a stable dynasty, and are able, ultimately, to persevere.
Elisha b. Avuyah, the tannaitic apostate known as “Acher” (literally, “Other”), was similar to Yerovam in this sense. He was perhaps the most brilliant man of his generation and was younger than all the other scholars with whom he would confer. According to his own account, Rabbi Yehoshua and Rabbi Eliezer attended his circumcision; thus, they were already scholars when he was born. But Elisha b. Avuyah could not tolerate a world that lacked perfection, and when he discovers that there are problems in the world, he begins to fall apart. And when he falls apart, he cannot recover from the fall.
This conception of perfection is reflected in a saying of his: “One who learns when young, to what may he be compared? To ink written on fresh paper. But one who learns when old, to what may he be compared? To ink written on paper that has been erased.” Elisha b. Avuyah does not want to write on erased paper; he wants ink written on fresh paper. He is saying – and this is part of his personality – that since he has been erased once, he cannot rewrite himself. By contrast, Rabbi Akiva is like Judah, a peasant from an undistinguished family. Unlike Elisha b. Avuya, who came from one of the prominent families of Jerusalem, Rabbi Akiva was the son of converts. Throughout his life,
