Vayigash: Was I Not Supposed to Do That?

 “It’s easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission.”

I think the above quote is relatively famous, though I personally was surprised to discover it’s attributed to Admiral Grace Hopper, (among other things) an early pioneer in the world of computers. I thought it was an old adage, either original to English or from some other language or culture, but maybe this concept isn’t as timeless as I had imagined. Or maybe, possibly, the basic principle is quite ancient, but Hopper just phrased it perfectly. She named something that is indeed quite central to the experience of being a human being... but no one put it as plainly or eloquently as she did. The Torah sure seems to know the concept anyway; there’s an example right here in this week’s parashah!

The major climax of the Joseph story has arrived. He finally revealed to his brothers that he, the grand vizier of Egypt, was actually their long-lost (that is, sold into slavery... but who’s counting?) brother. And soon he will also be reunited with his father, in a beautiful and heart-warming scene. There is, however, an underlying tension that is NOT being addressed. I’m not referring here to the way the brothers treated Joseph; that plot line actually DOES get dealt with at length. No, this is a much-much older tension that dates back to Abraham. We, the Jewish people, are tied to the Promised Land, known originally as Canaan, later to be called Israel. And whenever an ancestor leaves this land, God expresses some displeasure. So when Joseph sends word to his father that he is alive and weathering this seven-year famine just swimmingly, the Zionistically-inclined reader might raise an eyebrow when Joseph adds, “God has made me lord of all Egypt; come down to me without delay! You will dwell in the land of Goshen, where you can stay close to me.” (Gen. 45:9-10)

But Jacob goes. He leaves without hesitation; almost interrupting his sons mid-speech because he is so eager to see Joseph. Somewhere in the back of his mind, however, he must know that this isn’t going to be a two-week stay in an AirBnB; they’re definitely relocating the whole extended family to Egypt. This, I would argue, is where the Torah appears sympathetic to Jacob’s predicament, and subtly suggests that Jacob intends to “follow” the words of Admiral Hopper: He’ll ask God’s forgiveness for having left, rather than permission to go. I say that the Torah is sympathetic, because even though Jacob isn’t waiting to inquire what God thinks of this plan, the text tells us that God comes to Jacob preemptively and blesses his endeavor: “And God said, ‘I am El, the God of your father. Fear not to go down to Egypt, for I will make you there into a great nation. I Myself will go down with you to Egypt, and I Myself will also bring you back, and Joseph’s hand shall close your eyes.’” (46:3-4) We might be tempted to view this as a very awkward moment. God said “don’t worry about going to Egypt,” and you and I might want to respond, “Ummmm... Jacob didn’t seem all that worried...” But I think the text is more empathetic than that.

God wants Jacob to know that it’s ok to make assertive, proactive decisions. God blesses Jacob’s uprooting of his family before he has to confront the ramifications of his actions for himself. Perhaps God is even speaking to subsequent generations of Israelites, who will understandably cry out: “why, oh why, did Jacob ever bring us here???” God reassures the slaves, their descendants, and yes, even you and me today, that Jacob made the right decision. Much like the immortal words of Grace Hopper, it also reminds us that waiting for permission and following procedure, established rules and precedent, and “the way it’s always been” doesn’t always yield the best results. It’s not just a facetious, anti-establishment quip; it is actually true that sometimes you have to forge ahead, trust your instincts, and only later, if and when it is necessary, ask for forgiveness for transgressing a norm or expectation. As we prepare to start a new (secular) year, with so many precedents and traditions already having been thrown out the window, and a genuine need to start afresh, I hope we all keep this teaching in mind. We surely do NOT know what lies ahead, but we WILL turn whatever it is into a blessing. 

Happy New Year!

CC images in this blog post, courtesy of:
1. Wikimedia Commons
2. Moshe Milner on Wikimedia Commons
3. Pixabay
4. Pixabay