Small Moral Acts
Dear friends,
“Never underestimate the power of one small moral act.” This was one of the lines that stuck with me from my father’s talk about the West Bank on Monday. When contemplating this week’s parashah the following morning, I realized that this is a defining characteristic of Jewishness, or at least of the biblical character after whom Jews are named, Yehudah, or Judah.
The parashah begins with the greatest Hail Mary in the Bible. Joseph and his brothers have been estranged for decades, since they sold him into slavery. Now the brothers come in front of Joseph a second time to beg for food. Joseph responds by angrily imprisoning Benjamin and telling the rest of them to go back to Canaan. The relationship is on the verge of becoming irreparable. If they leave, Jacob will die of sorrow, and the brothers will forever live in animosity. It is at this moment that Judah steps into action. There is no reason for him to think that what he is about to do will help. Joseph has planted stolen goods on them and used it as proof to imprison Benjamin. He sits on his throne surrounded by advisors and guards. He has not shown openness to anything other than deciding things on his own.
However, Judah’s desperation seems to move him toward a simple, crazy act:
ויגש אליו יהודה
"And Judah approached him."
The early translators of Torah into Aramaic translate this: “And Judah came close to him.”
This act, which shouldn’t have helped, only endangering the brothers further, radically changes everything. After decades of separation, anger and guilt, this step toward him brings tears to Jospeh’s eyes, and completely shifts the relationship toward forgiveness and love.
On Tuesday evening I was invited to speak at a protest of Israelis for Peace in Columbus Circle calling for immediately returning the hostages, a bilateral ceasefire and the Netanyahu government to resign. There I described this moment in the Parashah as exactly like the political moment in Israel/Palestine. There are two options on the table: solidifying our mutual relationship of hatred, anger and guilt for another few generations, maybe for good, or attempting a small, Judean act of approach.
The Netanyahu government will not make such an approach. “Never, ever,” as my father put it on Monday. “He will fight it tooth and nail,” he said. Netanyahu’s entire political life has been designed to prevent a Palestinian state. The ethos of separation, expressed in the Joseph story by living for decades with no knowledge of each other’s lives, and on the ground with walls and fences, has failed. Crazy as it might sound to Israelis who are licking their wounds and whose distrust of Palestinians is higher than ever; and crazy as it might sound to Palestinians who are still dying every day, this, now is literally the pivotal moment.
After Judah’s approach, and his soft speaking in Joseph’s ear, Joseph sends out of the room everyone other than the brothers, and weeps loudly. He tells his brothers who he is, and they are so shocked that they move away from him. It’s then that Joseph makes a gesture like his older brother did.
גשו נא אלי
“Come close to me,” he says, and the Torah continues, “And they came close.”
“Don’t be angry at yourselves,” he tells them, and one can hear him speaking to himself too: don’t be angry, Joseph.
It is then that Joseph suggests an end to the physical separation as well:
“Come down to me from Canaan, do not stay standing where you are. Instead, sit in the Land of Goshen and be close to me.”
This is the first of nine mentions of The Land of Goshen in the Parashah. Goshen is a kind of suburb of Cairo. It’s strange to have that many mentions of it in such a short segment. It’s as if I’d tell you to come live in Hoboken, and just keep saying Hoboken over and over and over until you start thinking I’m trying to communicate something else. Goshen comes from the same root of the word Vayigash. It can be understood less as an actual place, and more of a state of mind: It is the place of coming close, the town of pivots, the city of approaches against all odds; the land of small moral acts.
May we inhabit this land this Shabbat. May we fill the world with our small acts. May the Jews act like Judah did in front of Joseph. May the Land of Israel; of battling with humans and gods, become a land of Goshen, where massive acts of cruelty are replaced with small acts of kindness.
Happy Christmas to all of you who celebrate the birth of this true pacifist. And happy Solstice: the darkest days are behind us.
Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Misha