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It doesn’t look good. Because of the harsh famine, Yaakov has been forced to separate from Binyamin, his last remaining reminder of his beloved wife; that very same son has subsequently been accused of thievery and is threatened with eternal slavery in Egypt and the remaining brothers are guiltily caught in the middle. Suddenly, Yehuda steps up and pleads the case for the freedom of his youngest brother. And, it works! Upon hearing Yehuda’s speech, Yosef cannot control himself any longer and, through streaming tears, reveals his identity to his estranged brothers!

Andrew Lloyd Webber’s estimation of the brothers’ ‘honesty’ aside, why is Yosef overwhelmed by Yehuda’s words? What could he possibly have heard that would so dramatically change his distrusting attitude towards them, an attitude so strongly felt that it prevented him from informing them of his existence for so many years?

An answer can be found in the actual words of Yehuda’s heart wrenching plea. Scanning the verses of his appeal (44; 18-34), we can easily discern an exaggerated focus on 1) the familial relationships: the word ‘father’ is mentioned no less than 14 times (three of those instances is twice in one verse!), and there are six times the word ‘brother’ is used; and 2) the ‘innocence’ of Binyamin: six times he is referred to as a ‘lad’ and four times as ‘small’ or young; in addition to a sprinkling of ‘love’ and ‘sorrowful death’. And all this in a mere 17 verses! Quite the heart-string tugging speech, appealing to (or even perhaps exploiting) Yosef’s filial and fraternal weaknesses; Shakespeare would be proud.

However, as powerfully poignant as Yehuda’s speech may have been, it seems a bit strange to say that the only reason the Torah wrote this entire section was to explain how best to win over a stubbornly dubious enemy; Yosef has spent great amounts of time and effort on cleverly manipulating the fulfillment of his dreams’ prophecies – how does Yehuda’s speech demonstrate Yosef’s success? Can we learn nothing more from the immediate and total success of Yehuda’s petition?

Understanding that the first verse of any section (like the first line in a sonnet, the first paragraph of a short story, or the first chapter of a book) creates the setting or tone, the starting verse of this section too must be scrutinized for its function: “And Yehuda approached and said, ‘please, my master, please allow your servant to speak something in the ear of my master, and don’t get angry with your servant, because you are like Pharaoh.” There is another monumental plea for the saving of lives recorded in the Torah that also includes the very same components as Yehuda’s; the plea of Avraham for the people of Sedom (Breishit 18; 23-32). The speech begins with, “And Avraham approached (23); then, five times throughout the conversation, Avraham refers to God as ‘my master’ and twice Avraham beseeches God ‘not to get angry’. The textual similarities are brilliantly blatant, what can we therefore learn from the purposeful conceptual comparison?

The impetus for Avraham’s argument to God to spare the people of Sedom from total annihilation is the fundamental justice it would be defying. How can a just and lawful ‘Judge of the Land’ sentence an entire population, including innocent Tzadikim, to death? Avraham argues that with enough righteous inhabitants, it would be truly wrong to destroy the sinful cities; and if God is truly right, He can’t carry through with His plans. (In the end, of course, there are in fact not enough Tzadikim to save the cities). However, what we must appreciate from this scene is the elevated and objective arguments of justice and rightfulness that Avraham used, as opposed to mere emotional or subjective pleas; Avraham looked to employ the irrefutable truth of God’s justice and righteousness ‘against’ Him in his fight for the cities’ salvation (an argument God Himself labeled as ‘the way of God’).

And now to return to our parsha. What does the Torah want us to understand about what Yosef hears that convinced him to finally reveal his identity and reunite his family? Far beyond the dramatic and complete turnaround from the brothers’ previously exhibited ‘hatred’, ‘jealousy’ and murderous intentions towards a younger son of Rachel to the present expression of ‘love’, deep concern and willing sacrifice for another son of Rachel, what truly wins Yosef’s confidence and what the Torah wants us to properly recognize is the justice and righteousness Yehuda demands. Like his great-grandfather, he, too, has ‘innocents’ he argues for: the arresting and enslaving of Binyamin would not only be condemning a faultless ‘small’ ‘lad’ to undeserved suffering, but would ultimately kill his innocent father whose ‘soul is tied up with his [Binyamin’s]’. Yehuda demands the very same Avraham argument of truth and justice and is, in turn, what Yosef is won over by. (And it’s not coincidental that God’s ‘rationale’ for informing Avraham of His plans to destroy Sedom, therein affording him an opportunity to fight for its survival, is ‘because he will teach his children the way of God, of justice and righteousness’!). And when we and Yosef witness this newly felt and outwardly demonstrated Avraham-esc persona in Yehuda (as representative of all his brothers), it becomes perfectly clear that the next stage of the Promise (given to Avraham at Brit Ben HaBtarim), which Yosef has strategically set up from the very first accusation of his brothers, is now ready to commence.

Here’s the scene: Yosef, weaned on the stories of the Avraham legacy, the Brit Ben HaBtarim, chosen and rejected sons and special, privileged roles within God’s promised future, receives two dreams of blatant prophetic nature, proclaiming his future rule. It wouldn’t be difficult to assume that Yosef would eagerly share this Divine signal with his family, informing them of the next stage in God’s plan for their collective ‘Descendants-of-Avraham’ future. Instead, however, Yosef brandishes these weapons of prophecy as swords of arrogance, omitting any mention of God, the Jewish people’s future or its context within the Promise. Is this the future vehicle of the bracha of Avraham? Does this pesky little kid wield the power of the entire Jewish future?

God doesn’t think so either. For, after a little ‘shoving’ back and forth and a stripping of his clothing, Yosef is thrown into a hole; a dark, empty, cavernous prison in the middle of the desert, totally cut off from the rest of the physical world. And this serves as Yosef’s first class in Spiritual Edification Training (SET). The lonely hole (and his stark nakedness) represents Yosef’s complete removal from any physical prowess he might have felt in the past, forcing a total attention to the ‘other’, ignored half: his spiritual awareness.

After his time in the learning-pit has passed, he is sold into slavery to Potiphar’s house. There, the Torah relays to us, he is extremely successful, rising up through the ranks and ultimately entrusted with almost everything his master owns. And to whom does Yosef owe this great success? The Torah makes sure we very clearly understand that every single ounce of achievement is directly from God:

And God was with Yosef and he was a successful man…and his master saw that God was with him and that everything he did God made him successful…and God blessed the house of the Egyptian because of Yosef; and God’s bracha was on everything [Potiphar] owned (39; 2,3 and 5)

In just three pesukim God is mentioned five times (!) – this isn’t even a subtle hint; and even Potiphar, the Egyptian worshiper of foreign gods, recognizes that God (YKVK) is behind Yosef’s success! The Torah has made it very clear that God is the source of Yosef’s authority and stature. And, has Yosef learned from his spiritual training in the hole? Has Yosef taken advantage of this blatant opportunity to correctly recognize the Divine reason behind his rule he so arrogantly ignored previously? The wife of Potiphar continually makes her advances to Yosef, to which he continually declares his adamant refusal. Obviously, this highly trained, God-recognizing man’s reasoning for refusal will be based on the fact that it is a sinful act and would defy the desires of the Divine controller of his life. Obvious, maybe, but incorrect nonetheless. Yosef spends 33 words explaining that it would be terribly reprehensible to wrong his master who has entrusted him with his entire household; how could he defy the great trust bestowed upon him? And then, the final two (Hebrew) words of his refusal: ‘and I would sin against the Lord’. Yosef has learned nothing; not only is his primary focus to avoid the wrath of his mortal master, but even when he finally gets around to the divine reason for his abstinence, it is the universal ‘Elokim’ he must not sin against (see Rashi). So, back into a ‘hole’ – this time, although in the form of a prison, Yosef refers to this prison later as a ‘hole’ (40; 15) as does the Torah itself in 41; 14 – where his power, special clothing and stature is once again stripped away (SET II), paving the way, once again, for the ideal opportunity to spiritually introspect and become the Jewish leader-persona required of him.

And in this hole, now stripped of his privileged status, there is another overtly expressed presence of God in Yosef’s successes almost exactly parallel to that which he experienced in Potiphar’s house (‘and God was with Yosef’, he was placed in charge of everything in the prison, the officer in charge ‘saw nothing that was in Yosef’s hands’ and ‘all that he did God made him successful’). And this time, his test is once again through the medium of dreams. The butler and the baker each have prophetic dreams and Yosef offers to interpret them. However, this time Yosef introduces his dream interpreting ability with the statement, “don’t interpretations belong to the Lord?” – bingo! Yosef has gained something from his time in confinement; suddenly he is aware of the true source of his special ‘privileged’ skill. Unfortunately, it is short-lived, because when the butler finishes his report and Yosef offers his interpretation, there is no mention whatsoever of God and the true force behind his capabilities. So, Yosef remains in his confinement – he has advanced somewhat and therefore he merely continues his stay in the same ‘hole’ – for another two years.

And finally, the last test: Pharaoh is troubled by his dreams and is told that Yosef can provide some much needed satisfaction. And Yosef, at the end of his long training, has finally learned his lesson. Not only does he respond to Pharaoh’s request for help with, “it has nothing to do with me; the Lord will answer Pharaoh” (41; 16) but he also precedes his interpretation to Pharaoh’s dreams with, “Pharaoh’s dreams are one, and what the Lord will do is told to Pharaoh” (41; 25). And it is this completely Divinely attributed interpretation which ultimately leads Yosef to the very role of authority and rule his original dreams had prophesized.

After the murder of all the males of Shechem, Yaakov thoroughly reprimands Shimon and Levi for their actions. They quickly respond: “Can we let them treat our sister like a harlot?” And Yaakov responds with…well, nothing. He doesn’t say a word.

So, why didn’t Yaakov have an answer? Were Shimon and Levi right? If they were, how come he still was angry that they, ‘dirtied my name, made me despised amongst the nations’ (34; 30)? Truly, Shimon and Levi were right. Shechem, having kidnapped Dina, now held her captive in his house and there was only one way to get her out, for no ‘deal’ was going to help. They simply had to kill Shechem and his father. Also, if they did not teach the people of Shechem a lesson then the rest of the nations would understand that they could do what ever they wanted to the ‘weak and defenseless’ Yaakov and his family. This was a matter of survival, for without a reputation of strength during this age you were lost; the times were too wild to allow such an affront to go unpunished.

If we understand that Yaakov, the strategist, understood this too (as expressed by the absence of a response), why was he angered nonetheless? Why did he worry about the dirtying of his name when this is exactly why Shimon and Levi did it in the first place- to prevent future attacks from other nations who would have otherwise despised them!

In Yaakov’s blessing/’curses’ for Shimon and Levi at the end of his life, he says: ‘…In your anger you killed man, and with your desire you uprooted oxen’ (49, 6). R. Hirsch understands this phrase to mean that their act was a deceitful one. In other words, what angered Yaakov was not that they killed all the males, for that mission was valid; rather, it was a problem because they did it deceitfully, this just is not the way his people, the Jews, behave!

But ‘you have dirtied my name’? ‘You have made me hated and despised?’ This seems very harsh for having completed a mission, although deceitfully, that had to be performed (and probably the only way it could have been done)! People make mistakes, people sometimes overstep their bounds (although here it was the only way, anyway) why was Yaakov so angered and dismayed (enough to curse, instead of bless them, at the end of his life)?

What Yaakov was truly unhappy about was the action of the rest of the brothers. For after Shimon and Levi finished their rescue of Dina and left, the rest of the brothers went in and pillaged the whole city: corpses, women, children and livestock wherever they could be found (27-29). The Torah exaggerates these horrible actions describing every single thing they plundered (using three (!) pasukim). In addition to the exaggeration of the gory details, the Torah also uses the word ‘Va’Yavozoo’ to describe these actions, which, unlike ‘Va’yeshalelu’ for example, is the more despised, disgraceful form of plundering (this word is also used to describe the action Esav did to the ‘Bechora’ in the beginning of Toldot). Also, even the seeming innocuous word of ‘Lakachoo’ ‘they took’ (28) Onkolos translates as ‘Va’yavozoo’! This is what Yaakov was unhappy about. This is what besmirched their name and may have brought them into trouble with and being despised by the other nations- for as important as what Shimon and Levi did to make sure they were still known as a chosen, special people not to be messed with, the action of the rest of the brothers served to totally negate this message. Bnei Yisrael is supposed to be better than the rest; they must be holier. While surely they must fight to make sure of their future safety, to accomplish it by acting like any other nation (and perhaps worse) and pillage the whole city ‘besmirches their name amongst the other nations’, lowering their status.

If the fault is really in the behavior of the other brothers, why are Shimon and Levi nevertheless blamed? The answer: the brothers, having seen how the surreptitious Shimon and Levi acted, felt that they too had a right to ‘defile’ this city, to treat them inappropriately. Even though it was all the brothers who originally hatched this devious plan, ultimately it was Shimon and Levi’s independent ‘jumping before the rest’ to facilitate the plan that opened the door for the other brothers’ independent, blameworthy actions. This is why Yaakov had no answer when he was talking to Shimon and Levi because he agreed with them! He understood that their sister, a daughter of Yisrael, could not be defiled and treated like a harlot. His problem was with the rest of the brothers; he had nothing to answer Shimon and Levi when they protested - for truly, he agreed with what needed to be done. However, the ‘blessing’ to them at the end of his life was blaming them and not the rest of the brothers, because it was their deceitful act and how they went about carrying it out, that ‘allowed’ the other brothers to act as they had.

This is a tremendously important lesson for future readers of this event. There will be times when actions must be taken; there will be times when the decision of how to go about performing these actions will have to be made. More than just deciding how it will relate to the performer of the action, the decision must also take into account the witnesses of these actions. How will it affect me and how will it affect them? This is the elevated behavior Jews are commanded to uphold, “Kedoshim Tihiyu”: not only do we have to be careful to avoid the ‘wrong’ because of the sin that might be transgressed, but also because of how it affects others watching these actions! This is the lesson Yaakov teaches his sons and the lesson the future generations of Jews need to understand.

It has always been quite bewildering to me that Yaakov, after dreaming of God and having received the historic message from Him, that while Yaakov did jump up and exclaim ‘wonder’ and ‘awe’, it was only the next morning that he arose and commemorated the event with a monument. In this dream, Yaakov becomes the ‘next generation’ to receive the Avraham blessing and all Yaakov can do, after his initial shock, is lie back down?

In the second pasuk of the parsha, it states: “He [Yaakov] arrived at the place and decided to rest there because the sun was setting, and he took from the rocks of the place and placed them under his head and slept in the place”. Strangely, it says ‘the place’ three times in this one verse! Surely anytime anything is mentioned three times (especially in one pasuk) it is emphasizing something – and this time it’s emphasizing an anonymous place! Stranger still, at the end of this whole scene, Yaakov names this place Beit El “and Luz had been its name previously”. It had a name already, so why was it specifically called “the place”, three times?

In an attempt to reconcile these seeming difficulties, we must look at the language of Yaakov’s ‘waking’ immediately after his dream. The pasuk states “Va’Yikatz Mishnato” (usually translated as “he jumped up from his sleep”) and exclaimed, “surely there is God in this place and I had no idea!” There are two other instances in the Torah that a person “Va’yikatz” from a dream. Each one of them states ‘Va’yikatz so-and-so and behold, it was a dream’: Pharaoh and Shlomo both awake from their sleep and realize that the fantastic images they had seen (cows/stalks on the Nile and God’s visitation, respectively) was a dream. With Yaakov, it does not state, ‘and behold, it was a dream’. Also, with Yaakov, as opposed to the other two, the verse adds, ‘from his sleep’ - but we know he was sleeping - why would we need this additional fact? Due to the dissimilarities, I would like to posit that, in fact, Yaakov never truly physically ‘woke’ from his slumber (like the others did, realizing they had been dreaming), but rather ‘awoke from his stupor’. ‘Sleep’ is the metaphor for ‘unconscious’ or ‘unaware’ and what Yaakov does, in reaction to his Divine dream, is jump up from a previously unaware state into full consciousness. (The next morning, when he truly physically wakes, “Va’Yashkem Yaakov BaBoker”, he reacts accordingly and physically builds a monument).

So, the question remains, what was Yaakov previously unaware of that this dream finally awakened him to? If we return to our second question, the answer becomes clear. Why did it emphasize ‘the place’ three times in the second pasuk? Because the Torah is making sure we understand that this is how Yaakov related to this place. He was totally unaware of its significance, for him it was just another place. Did this ‘awareness lesson’ work? If we recall Yaakov’s words that reflect this newly discovered consciousness, “surely there is God in this place and I had no idea!” the answer is clear. He now realizes that this is a Godly place and that he previously had ‘no idea’ and wakes the next morning to name ‘the place’ Beit El – the title that amply reflects his new understanding.

The question should now be asked however as to why Yaakov needed to understand the significance of this place. Why did God have to appear to him to make sure Yaakov truly understood its Divine characteristic? God’s message to Yaakov in the dream consisted of the two main aspects of the Avraham blessing: 1) Your descendants will be numerous and 2) the land is promised to them. Previously, Yaakov, as an ‘ish tam yoshev ohalim’ never ventured out of his personal abode, never truly experienced the outside world. How often are we unappreciative of the landscape around us when we have dwelled within it our whole lives? Yaakov, having spent his whole life in Eretz Yisrael (unlike his grandfather) and having never even attempted to leave (like his father) never had the opportunity to fully appreciate his surroundings - for him, Eretz Yisrael was just called ‘Home’. It is now, during his first venture into this ‘outside world’, alone (on his way to Padam Aram), that the true significance of the land he has lived in must be comprehended. If he is to be the next link in the Avraham legacy, the aspects of the Divine promise (Land and Descendants) must be truly significant to him so that when he returns to it from the ‘outside’ world, he will properly express and accomplish his own personal “Lech Lecha”, initiating him into the ‘Avot Club’! (It is not coincidental that the very next episode relays how Yaakov builds up his family of 11 sons! The other aspect of the Avraham promise!)

As a kid, the logic used to explain the enigmatic placement of Tzom Gedaliah immediately after Rosh Hashanah was the dire necessity to purge the body after two straight days of too many simanim and four three-course meals. Although obviously humorous, this explanation isn’t all that less satisfying than the one I subsequently learned.

The story recorded in Melakhim II, chapter 25, relates that after the devastating destruction of Eretz Yisrael and its inhabitants by Nebuchadnezzar, Gedaliah was appointed by the Babylonians as governor over the last few Jews who were given permission to remain in the Land. We are then told that Yishmael Ben Netanyah and his men assassinated Gedaliah and his court (in the seventh month – Tishrei), and the entire nation then fled to Egypt for fear of Babylonian retribution. Although dastardly and certainly nationally significant as causing the final stage in the complete exile of the Jews, how can this brief episode (only four pesukim!) concerning these minor characters (outside of this story, we’ll never hear of them again), that occurred sometime during Tishrei, be the impetus for establishing a fast during the powerful aseret yemei teshuva, specifically between the de’orayta holidays of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur?!

For the answer we turn to the Book of Yirmiyahu (chapters 40-43), where an extended version of this story is recorded, which ultimately reveals the true significance of this sorrowful event. After Gedaliah is appointed, Yishmael and his men, suspicious of their governor’s ties with the occupying enemy nation, plot to assassinate the puppet official. Yochanan Ben Kareyach warns Gedaliah about the deadly plans but is rebuffed and accused of lying; Yishmael and his men then arrive at Gedaliah’s home and carry through their plans, killing the governor and the other Babylonian officials who are with him. Yochanan then rallies soldiers and kills Yishmael, avenging the cruel, nationally destructive murder.

Frightened of Babylonian retribution, Yochanan, his men, and the entire nation ‘from the young to the old’ approach Yirmiyahu (the prophet of the time), beseeching him to ask God if they should flee to Egypt or can they remain safely in Eretz Yisrael. They say to Yirmiyahu, ‘God will tell us the path for us to follow and the thing that we will do…may God be for us a faithful and truthful witness, [we swear] that we will do everything that God sends word to you for us to do. Whether good or bad, we will heed the voice of God that we have requested from you to receive!’ This recording of their effusive request to Yirmiyahu conveys a deep yearning for God’s truth, a steadfast faith in the rightness of His advice and the unyielding readiness to follow it, no matter what the instruction.

Pleased with their declaration, Yirmiyahu communes with God for ten days and receives the following glorious message which he immediately relates to Yochanan and the rest of the nation:

“So says God, the Lord of Israel: If you remain in this land, I will build houses for you and not destroy them, I will plant and not uproot because I have regretted the evil I have caused you. Do not fear the Babylonians…because I am with you to save you from their hands; and I will grant you mercy and return you to your land!”

Through Yirmiyahu, God relates one of the greatest messages of hope and Divine security ever recorded! As the smoke was still wafting over the charred remains of the Beit Hamikdash, and the deserted houses echoed with the emptiness of the broken Land, God tells these remaining few that the destruction is over! He has regretted the wrath He was ‘forced’ to wreak upon His children and now is ready to rebuild, protect them and invite their return. Surely Yochanan and his frightened followers could only have dreamed of such an answer; not only may they remain, but they should (and need to) because God is offering them a total reversal of their previous misfortunes, promising a Divinely brightened future!

And their response? “And it was when Yirmiyahu finished speaking…that Yochanan Ben Kareyach and all his men said: ‘you are speaking lies! God did not send you the message that we should not go to Egypt, you’re conspiring to give us into the hands of the Babylonians to kill us and exile us to Bavel.’” (The significance of the similarity between their response to Yirmiyahu and that of Gedaliah’s to their warnings (of the truth!) of his immanent murder is certainly not coincidental.) And they immediately depart to Egypt, thus ending the last remaining true presence of Jews in their land.

This is truly the reason for our fasting: there was a distinct moment in our history when our people could have returned to Eretz Yisrael and rebuilt their homes and their lives under guaranteed Divine protection, but unbearably, it was squandered. After pledging their faith to God and the upholding of His word no matter what the instruction, Yochanan and his men, not hearing the answer they were looking for, promptly rejected His message, choosing rather to follow their own path, voluntarily abandoning the final vestiges of hope for the Jewish nation which God had so mercifully offered them.

And this is why we commemorate this terrible episode immediately after Rosh Hashanah, at the beginning of the interim aseret yemei teshuva which culminate with Yom Kippur, the conclusion to this entire teshuva period. For two days, during our tefilla on Rosh Hashanah, we would have been focusing on the horrid corruption of our expected relationship with God throughout the past year and our pledge to mend it according to God’s demands. After this two-day intensive dedication, we are faced with a choice: having ‘heard’ what God requires of us, do we reject His answer in place of what we wanted to hear and follow our own, easier path, or do we accept His instruction, no matter how difficult or humbling, and begin to refurbish our relationship, achieve full repentance on Yom Kippur and then joyously celebrate our newly refurbished, deeply founded relationship with God on the holiday of Sukkot? Tzom Gedaliah is our tragic signpost, dramatically directing us onto the only path to achieving true success.