Vayigash: Judah's Speech To Us All

The Torah loves its big sermons. God delivers one or two, Abraham and his servant each speak at length, and in fact, the entire Book of Deuteronomy is really one long soliloquy from our favorite prophet,

Moses. It's a good reminder to us all about the incredible power of speech. This week's Torah reading, Vayigash, begins with a tremendously impassioned appeal from the ancestor who lent his name to the Jewish People, Judah. In addition to being eloquent and heartfelt, there are fascinating clues hidden inside Judah's plea that speak to us as modern readers. And especially right now, we need to heed the message that Judah is trying to teach us.

Last week's parashah ended on a cliffhanger: Joseph - still disguising his true identity from his brothers - manages to convince them to bring their youngest brother, Benjamin, down to Egypt. There, he lays a trap to force the brothers to abandon Benjamin in Egypt, and return home to a (soon-to-be) devastated father. That Torah portion

ended, and this week's reading opens with Judah begging Joseph to take him instead. I think it's a beautiful speech, yet despite having read it many times before, I noticed something this week that I'd never paid attention to before. The whole appeal is only seventeen verses long (chapter 44, verses 18-34), yet Judah manages to squeeze in fourteen uses of the word 'father' (Av); thirteen mentions of the word 'servant' (Eved); twelve instances of either 'boy' (Na'ar) or 'younger brother' (Ach Katan); and another six times each the words 'brother' (Ach) and 'my lord' (Adoni). And the end result of his heart-wrenching supplication is that Joseph breaks down and reveals himself to his brothers. So what do we make of Judah's words?

In context, these words make a lot of sense. Judah appeals to a superior ('my lord') and makes himself look very humble ('your servant'), and he emphasizes again and again the touching relationship between a father and a young son, appealing to Joseph's humanity and kindness. 

But if we take a step outside this story, the word for 'lord,' 'Adoni,' is almost exactly the same as one of our most holy names of God, Adonai. And 'Av' (father) is also used to describe God, while we often depict ourselves as 'servants of God,' The speech is directed at us; all of us reading it here today, in (almost) 2013. In the presence of God, striving - as we should - to be worshipers/servants who follow God's laws, how do we treat our brethren? In particular, how do we look out for the Ne'arim, the young children in our society? Judah is trying to prove to this Egyptian ruler that he is responsible, that he will sacrifice his own well-being for this youngster, and that he is a man of his word. He may convey his sentiments with words, but he backs them up with action, with resolve. 

And what about us? How do we back up what we say with earnest deeds? In the past week, we have heard so much about 'real change,' and a rededication to stricter gun laws, better background checks for weapons' licenses, more concern for the mental health of all our children and adults, and a deep reexamination of our culture of

violence. The talk has been plentiful, but what now? How can we demonstrate that it's not just speech, that our wholehearted commitment to the next generation is real and sustained? Our words can indeed make a difference, just as Judah's paved the way for a happy ending to this Biblical story. But we cannot hope for a happy ending to ours without pledging to do more than just speak. And in our case, the stakes are even higher. We aren't just pleading for the life of one child; we labor to free us all from the prison of violence, and there's simply no time to waste.

Photos in this blog post:

1. CC image courtesy karindalziel on Flickr

2.CC image courtesy of gruntzooki on Flickr

3. CC image courtesy of :-) Lee J. Haywood on Flickr

4. CC image courtesy of craftivist collective on Flickr