Choreography of Nearness

Dear friends,

One of my closest childhood friends became very religious when we were 16. Over the course of a year or two he transitioned from being the kid that introduces cheeseburgers to his slightly more traditional Jewish friends, to a bearded aspiring rabbi. A year ago I asked Reb Leibush, now the head of a yeshiva in Jerusalem what sparked that transition. He answered like he answered me decades ago. He took three steps back before praying the Amidah, then three steps forward. During the time of that not very long prayer, before he concluded with three more steps back, bowing all around and two steps forward, something happened to him that he couldn’t ignore, nor define, but he knew that his life had changed.  

The Amidah, our central prayer of request, our longest moment of silence, our standing time when our feet are fixed in place, this is our most intimate moment with God (or ourselves) in our prayers. There are physical preparations for this prayer as well as mental ones prescribed. Mental prep includes prayers of praise and gratitude, assertions of our world view and the limits of our knowledge, songs, devotional poems. Then come the physical actions: we turn our bodies toward Jerusalem, we take three steps back and three steps forward, and begin. 

The strange magic of these dance moves, choreographed by rabbis for us thousands of years ago is illuminated in this week’s Parasha, Vayigash. 

We find ourselves in the climax of the Joseph saga. He’s already been sold to slavery by his brothers, taken to Egypt, imprisoned unjustly, and used his understanding of dreams to become Pharaoh’s right hand man. He has saved Egypt from a terrible famine, and has already given food to his brothers, who have come from Canaan looking to stave off starvation. He hasn’t revealed himself to them though he certainly recognizes them. The second time the brothers come back after the food Joseph gave them has run out he devises a trick that puts his one full blood brother, Benjamin in prison. The defacto leader of the brothers, Yehudah now must respond. 

וַיִּגַּ֨שׁ אֵלָ֜יו יְהוּדָ֗ה 

And Judah approached him 

This approach, the title of the parasha, is one of the three sources that inspired our pre-Amidah choreography: 

The reason (for taking three steps before the Amidah) is because there are three “approaches” in prayer (found in Tanach): “And Avraham approached,” “And Yehudah approached,” “and Eliyahu approached.” 

(Rabbi Avraham Eliezer bar Isaac) 

The three instances where the word “Vayigash”, “and he approached” appear in the bible are followed by deep, honest expressions of a major need. 

Rabbi Moshe Iserles writes: 

“When a person is about to pray [the Amidah], he should take three steps forward, like someone approaching and drawing near to something that must be done.” 

Yehudah had no choice. He had to get his brother out of prison or his father would have died of sorrow. And he will express this in clear language to this Egyptian ruler who he does not know is his brother. But before any words are said, he must first move his body nearer to him. 

It is the silent physical movement that first grabs Joseph’s attention, signaling to him that something is about to happen. When we speak to our loved ones often a similar takes place. A physical movement away from them can signal fear, lack of clarity or care or love or importance. A movement toward them can signal a desire to engage, your need of your loved one and clarity of intention. It cries out: “I want to be close to you,” which can often be more effective than words. 

In order to draw near, to come close, we must approach. This is the first lesson the rabbis learn from this moment of high drama and tension. Then come his words, ending with a selfless act of sacrifice: 

Please let your servant remain as a slave to my lord instead of the boy (Benjamin), and let the boy go back with his brothers. For how can I go back to my father unless the boy is with me? Let me not be witness to the woe that would overtake my father!” 

When we approach God or anyone else in this way, drawing near with selfless love of others, even if we have harmed them or done wrong, the response suggested in this story is a breaking down of barriers, inhibitions and anger into total and complete forgiveness: 

Joseph could no longer control himself before all his attendants, and he cried out, “Have everyone withdraw from me!” So there was no one else about when Joseph made himself known to his brothers.  

His sobs were so loud that the Egyptians could hear, and so the news reached Pharaoh’s palace.  

Joseph said to his brothers “I am your brother Joseph, he whom you sold into Egypt.  

Now, do not be distressed or reproach yourselves because you sold me hither; it was to save life that God sent me ahead of you... it was not you who sent me here, but God; 

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could approach one another, and notice when we are being approached. Those quiet steps forward could be the beginning of knowing one and another more deeply, and the forgiveness that ensues from that knowledge. 

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Misha