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Vayigash

Genesis 44:18-47:27

Ezekiel 37:15-28

Can you think of a moment in your life when a few simple, genuine words of regret and reconciliation changed everything? Can you think of a current relationship in need of such words right now?

Our parashah this week brings us just such an extraordinary moment of peace-making, as we reach the climactic moment of the Joseph story. After a fascinating and complex tale of rivalry, vengeance and alienation, we see a family come back together. Our parashah tells us that such moments of reconciliation are possible.

The Hafetz Hayim (quoted in Itturei Torah, Vol. 2, Page 397) points out that the turning point of the story, when the family moves from violence, hatred and loss to loving reunion, centers on two simple words. Although many other important things have been said in the interim, it is when Joseph says, "I am Joseph" (Genesis 45:3) that everything changes.

The Hafetz Hayim takes note of the fact that the brothers have been in great turmoil up to this point, asking why God is doing all of this to them and repeatedly reflecting on their own guilt. But when Joseph reveals himself, saying simply, "I am Joseph," all of the questions fall away. Everything becomes clear, and it is evident that the whole story was directed by God, that there need be no more guilt or suspicion and that the members of this family may finally live in peace with one another.

In a similar vein, the Safed Emet (in Itturei Torah, Vol. 2, Page 399) sees in this story the power of sincere tshuvah (turning-repentance) to bring about profound change. Joseph says again, "I am Joseph your brother, whom you sold into Egypt. But now do not be sad or angry with yourselves that you sold me here, for it was God who sent me here before you, to preserve life" (Genesis 45:4-5).

The Safed Emet, following an old rabbinic interpretation, says that the word ve'ata, "but now," represents a moment of sincere tshuvah. Now, everything changes, and Joseph is able to set aside the human drama of the story. The lifelong story of rivalry and revenge disappears, as Joseph asserts with complete conviction that all of this had to happen in just this way, because God willed it, in order to give life to this family and to all. In the presence of tshuvah of this depth, even real sins committed in the past (i.e., the brothers throwing Joseph in the pit and selling him into slavery) turn magically into grace, when it becomes clear that the entire story was directed by God from the start.

Can you think of a time when several powerful words ("I'm sorry," "I love you," "I know I've hurt you," "I want to do better"), spoken from the heart, have changed the course of a relationship? It only happens when the words are spoken with complete genuineness, generally — as in our story — after a long period of real human mistakes, ambivalence and the gradual unfolding of a desire to change. When that process has run its course, when there is no choice but to try something different, the simple words of regret and desire for change have great power. As the rabbis said, "Words that come from the heart enter the heart."

So, too, does everything change in those moments when we are able to step outside our personal view of the story. From one perspective, there can be no end to a lifelong attachment to the events and behaviors that engendered resentment, distance, even hatred. After all, these things happened; these words were spoken; this history can never be rewritten. Yet sometimes someone must take the leap to see in our own lives what our forebear Joseph saw in his, that this story is not what it seems. Sometimes we must change our vantage point and read the events through a different lens. Then we will see very different possibilities. We may even find the presence of God in the midst of our pain.

May this exquisite story of tshuvah and reconciliation inspire us to take a new look at our own lives, and may the grace evident in this story bless ours as well.