Yosef’s Reveal
Everyone remembers the story of how Yosef Hatzaddik had disguised himself from his brothers as the mishneh lamelech of Pharaoh until the time came to reveal to them who he really was. לֹכָי ‡ֹל¿ו ̃≈ּפַ‡¿ ̇ƒה¿ל ף≈סֹיו – He couldn’t restrain himself any longer and now he was about to announce to his brothers, ף≈סֹיו יƒנֲ‡ – It’s me, your long-lost brother Yosef (Bereishis 45:1-3).
But before he would make himself known to his brothers, he made an announcement: ‡ָר¿ ̃ƒּיַו יָלָﬠ≈מ ׁ ̆יƒ‡ לָכּו‡יƒˆֹהו – He called out, “Everyone else, leave the room.” He wanted all the foreigners, all the Egyptians, to leave. And now, only now when ‡ֹל¿וֹוּ ̇ƒ‡ ׁ ̆יƒ‡ „ַמָﬠ – nobody was standing with him in the palace except for his brothers, יוָח∆‡ ל∆‡ ף≈סֹיו עַּ„ַו¿ ̇ƒה¿ּב – that’s when Yosef made himself known to his brothers (ibid.).
Areilim Arois!
Now, that’s a question: Why did Yosef insist that nobody should witness this reunion of the brothers?
So Rashi (ibid.) says לֹּב¿סƒל לֹכוָי הָיָה ‡ֹל – Yosef couldn’t bear, יוָלָﬠ יםƒבָּˆƒנ יםƒר¿ˆƒמּיו¿הƒּי∆ׁ ̆ – that the Egyptians should be standing there. Why? Rashi says because he didn't want the Egyptians to see how his brothers would be ashamed or embarrassed when he would say ‘Ani Yosef’.
Now Rashi says his reason and it certainly is a true and good reason. But it’s a prat, it’s one detail; there is a more general reason. That by the way is a principle that you have to know when you’re learning Rashi and maamarei Chazal in general. They don’t always say the full pshat; they say a chiddush, an addition, a detail of the pshat. And that’s what Rashi’s doing here – he’s telling us one detail of the pshat.
The Plain Pshat
But the pshat is said by the possuk itself. The possuk states Yosef Hatzaddik didn't want any stranger to be present when he was about to be reunited with his brothers. That’s the plain meaning – where there will be a reunion of brothers, a gentile doesn’t belong.
Why not? What’s the problem with witnessing the reunion of long-lost brothers, the love between them? I saw that once – it wasn’t even a Jewish family – a few Italian brothers were meeting each other after being separated for more than ten years and they were bawling; they were crying like little children. I appreciated that. It was something to see. And so what would have been so bad if the Mitzrim saw some brotherly love among Jews? Maybe they would have learned a thing or two.
And the answer is, it’s true, I’m sure the Mitzrim would have benefited; but there was a reason they couldn’t remain. And that’s because it wasn’t an Italian reunion – it was a Jewish reunion; a reunion of Jewish brothers, of the Shivtei Kah. And therefore it was too holy of an occasion for outsiders, too holy of a place for the gentile to be present.
Place of Holiness
That’s a fundamental truth that Hakadosh Baruch Hu taught us about this world: there are times and places where the Shechinah is present to such a degree that it warrants keeping the goyim out; some things are just too holy for their presence.
Let’s take the Beis Hamikdash for example. A goy cannot come into the Mikdash (Keilim 1:8); even where temei’im are permitted, a goy wasn’t allowed. There was a sign hanging outside of the Beis Hamikdash in Latin, “If a non-Jew enters these precincts he'll be put to death.” And the goyim were very careful because the beis din shel kohanim would execute any gentile who was caught in the forbidden precincts! They would take him outside of the azarah and put him to death.
And the Roman government approved of that because even they understood that gentiles have no right to come into the Sanctuary. To a superficial extent they understood: What’s a goy doing in the holy place of the Jews?
We of course understand it more. A goy should come into the place of an especial degree of hashraas ha’Shechinah?! If it’s a place where the Shechinah comes down then it’s something especially for His children. To allow a gentile there would be a sacrilege, a degradation of the importance of that place.
Time of Holiness
Same with the kedushah of Shabbos. Now Shabbos is not a place but it’s a chiddush of the Torah that time can also possess kedushah; certain days are more holy than others and Shabbos is the most sacred of all. ֹו ֹ̇‡ ׁ ̆≈ּ„ַ ̃¿יַו יƒיעƒב¿ַּׁ̆ה םֹיו ̇∆‡ יםƒ ֹ̃ל¡‡¿ך∆רָב¿יַו (Bereishis 2:3) means that Hashem imparted a kedushah into the time, the day itself.
And there too we know that goyim are not allowed. Like it says in the siddur, in the Shabbos tefillah, יםƒל≈רֲﬠּנו¿ּכ¿ׁ̆ƒי ‡ֹל ֹו ָ̇חּנו¿מƒּב – no goyim are able to come into our day of rest. It means that Shabbos is off-limits to them; it’s too holy for areilim, for the uncircumcised.
That’s why הָ ̇יƒמ בָּיַח ַ̇בָּׁ̆∆ׁ̆ יƒר¿כָנ – A gentile is chayav misah if he keeps Shabbos (Sanhedrin 58b); it’s because he’s going where he doesn’t belong. It’s like walking into a Beis Hamikdash; he’s trampling on sacred ground. Shabbos is a special sanctuary only for am Hashem, for the holy people, and if you’re not from Am Yisroel and you walk there anyhow, you’re chayav misah. It doesn't mean you should go out and shoot him, but Hakadosh Baruch Hu will take care of him.
Saving a Gentile’s Life
Once a man, a goy, came to me. I was in my office in Chaim Berlin and someone knocked on my door. He’s standing there wearing a banjo on his back and he tells me he's contemplating becoming a ger. He wants to be Jewish and someone told him he should speak to me.
“I’ve been keeping Shabbos a long time already,” he tells me.
So I said, “Stop! It’s dangerous; don’t do that! Every Shabbos, switch on the light at least once.” Because it’s not for them! Just like the Mikdash is a place of the Shechinah, Shabbos is a time of the Shechinah; it’s a sanctuary of time that is too holy for strangers. If you’re not from the holy nation then the holy day is not for you.
Holiness of Reconciliation
And we come back to our subject, to Yosef and his brothers. Why did Yosef have to send out the Mitzrim? Because just like the Mikdash and Shabbos are too holy for outsiders – there’s too much Shechinah there to allow the presence of goyim – when Jews reconcile, that’s also a place of kedushah. It’s a place where the Shechinah comes with an intensity that is not found elsewhere. Jewish reunions are very holy!
Don’t think it’s easy to reconcile. It means a commitment to be mevater, to overlook things; what it means is that you’ll have to make yourself into a person who is more shaleim in his middos bein adam lachaveiro.
Yosef Hatzaddik had been separated from his brothers for very many years. And there had been friction; trouble and recriminations. There was jealousy and rivalry; and now they are coming together again which means shleimus hamiddos.
And that’s the kedushah that was there at that time. The perfection of character is what makes a place holy! At that moment, when Yosef met his brothers again after so many years, it was a time of such kedushah that no stranger had a right to be present. It was mammash a Beis Hamikdash and therefore ֹוּ ̇ƒ‡ ׁ ̆יƒ‡ „ַמָﬠ ‡ֹל – no stranger was permitted to stand there, יוָח∆‡ ל∆‡ ף≈סֹיו עַּ„ַו¿ ̇ƒה¿ּב – when Yosef re-joined his brothers (Bereishis 45:1).
Better Than Poetry
It’s not just a form of speech, some poetic words, that the shleimus hamiddos of achdus is holy. No; it’s very real, very tangible. The ichud, the union of frum Jews is so pleasing to Hashem that He chooses to rest His Presence there more than anywhere else. It’s so holy that goyim can’t even be present.
Later, when the Egyptians inquired, “Why did you give this order that we should leave? What was going on in there when we left?” so Yosef could say “Oh, I’m sorry about that but my brothers might have been embarrassed. I didn’t want to put them through that in public.” That’s the right thing to tell a goy – and it’s true too. But there's a deeper reason, a much more important reason, and that was the kedushah of the reuniting of Yosef and his brothers, the kedushah that comes from the perfection of character that is achieved when people are forced to get along.
To be b’shalom, b’achdus, getting along with others, means learning how to bend and twist your desires to the whims and quirks of your fellow man. It has to be that way, otherwise it’s impossible to be together. There’s a tremendous perfection of character that comes along with reconciliation.
Kol Nidrei Holiness
That’s one of the reasons, by the way, why Yom Kippur, Kol Nidrei night, is so holy for the Am Yisroel. Among the other aspects of kedushah that it has, there is something special that makes it even more kadosh: Kol Nidrei night is a time when people have reconciled; they’ve made up with each other.
Al pi halachah that’s what they have to do because ֹרו≈בֲח ̇∆‡ ה∆ּˆַר¿ּי∆ׁ ̆ „ַﬠ ר≈ּפַכ¿מ יםƒרּוּפƒּכַה םֹיו ין≈‡ – Yom Kippur won’t help you for sins against your fellow Jew unless you appease him first (Yuma 85b). And therefore everyone is careful to reconcile. Every married man before he leaves the house to go to the beis haknesses on Yom Kippur night asks his wife to forgive him and she asks him to forgive her. Everyone, every man, every woman, every child tries as much as possible to reconcile with their fellow Jews before Yom Kippur. You do what you can to forget about your hakpadahs, to appease and be appeased.
And then they all come together to the beis haknesses with the kedushah of togetherness and just that alone is why there’s a very great kedushah on Kol Nidrei night. Hashem’s chosen people have reconciled!
Born To Break
Now, it could be that we don't appreciate that; we don’t understand how important the perfection of character is, what a kedushah it is when a person breaks his middos. You know, the Gra says in his sefer Even Shleimah that the most important function of a Jew is to learn to break his middos; shviras hamiddos. And if he won’t do that, lamah lo chaim, what’s the purpose of living? You hear that? A remarkable statement! And the Gra wasn’t a man who said rash things. He didn’t exaggerate. The purpose of life is to break your character traits; breaking your arrogance, your gaavah, breaking your ka’as, becoming a patient man, breaking your selfishness, breaking your machlokes with other people.
“I want to do it this way.” But the other thinks his way is the way. So you give in. You break your will. And even sometimes when you can’t but you try to be diplomatic. You bend this way and that way; you twist yourself to get along with everybody. And you’re fulfilling your purpose in life because you’re perfecting yourself. That’s what the Vilna Gaon says.
Now, you can be sure that Yosef Hatzaddik understood that even more than the Vilna Gaon. He understood what it meant to be reunited with his brothers. Not just one brother; all his brothers. And what kind of brothers? The Shivtei Kah! And so it was to him like the Beis Hamikdash and Shabbos. That’s what it means, the kedushah of perfection of character.
