SERMON FOR PARASHAT VA-YIGASH

Sibling rivalry is a major theme in the Book of Genesis. That’s not really news. Even the first time you read through the Book of Genesis, that becomes clear. But what is sometimes overlooked is the progression or evolution of this issue from bad to better.

We begin with the story of Cain and Abel – an example of rivalry resulting in murder.

Next we read of the sons of Noah. We are told of an embarrassing episode with their father, where one of the sons (Ham) is described as the instigator or culprit.

Abraham has two brothers, and once we hear that Abraham leaves home, we never hear of any reunion between them.

Subsequent generations of their families intermingle, but Abraham and his brothers never meet again.

Isaac and Ishmael separate and never reunite until the funeral of their father, Abraham.

Isaac’s sons, Jacob and Esau, reunite once, and it is a very touching and moving reunion. But after that, they never meet again until it’s time for Isaac’s funeral.

The Torah describes attempts at reunion and actual meetings between the brothers, but they’re never able to live together, at least not until this week’s and next week’s concluding portions of the Book of Genesis.

Do you get the point? In the first Torah portion of Geneis, Parashat Braysheet, Cain kills Abel.

Something very different happens in this week’s and next week’s Torah portion.

Joseph is Viceroy of Egypt. His position is probably very comparable to Vice President Dick Cheney’s relationship to President George Bush. He is a trusted advisor, someone behind the scenes, and someone who has great power and authority.

Joseph, of course, has been absent and away from his family for many years. The question that has perplexed me in recent years is, “Why didn’t Joseph contact his father’s family? Why didn’t he seek out his brothers, if for no other reason than to seek out revenge?”

After all, he was Viceroy of Egypt. He could have sent messengers. He could have driven there in a chariot by himself. At this point in his life, it was fairly simple for Joseph to reunite with them if he wanted to do so. He could have taught them a lesson long ago, had he decided that this was really important to him.

Yet, he fails to do so. Why? My answer is simple - he doesn’t want to seek them out.

Finding them means confronting them, which might eventually force Joseph to accept an apology, should it be offered.

Finding them might mean Joseph would at least have to consider reclaiming them as actual brothers.

Of course there was no justification to the violent way in which Joseph was treated - he was thrown into a pit and sold. He was almost killed.

Yet, the Torah does make it clear that these actions, despite being exceedingly cruel, were at least partially in reaction to the way Joseph acted toward his brothers. He was arrogant, and he bragged about being his parents’ favorite son.

Perhaps Joseph didn’t really want to see his brothers again because not only would it remind him of what they did to him; it would remind him of what he did to them.

I think Joseph did not seek out his brothers because he wasn’t ready to let go of his anger. He preferred to live in anger and hold onto it. The anger was more useful to him than was the possibility of reconciliation.

Before we go on with the Joseph story – I have to ask, do you know people like that?

Do you know people who look for reasons to justify their anger toward someone long after the anger producing event has passed?

Do you know people who seem to thrive on the venom that continues to exist as poison within them, long after a harmful or inappropriate event has taken place?

Do you know people who continue to point out negative traits about others who may have wronged them in the past, discovering new negative traits, in order to justify their own ongoing refusal to forgive and to move on?

Two weeks ago we heard from Professor Bruce Birch of Wesley Theological Seminary. One part of his last wonderful session was on the issue of repentance and forgiveness.

Dr. Birch made the point that God, at least as stated in Book of Isaiah, is willing to forgive us unconditionally. That is a clear teaching in the Book of Isaiah.

Sometimes, human beings tend to do the opposite. Sometimes we add new conditions that prevent any opportunity for repentance and forgiveness.

We’re so angry and we want to remain justified in our anger that we look for and sometimes even perhaps invent new conditions before repentance will be accepted, or forgiveness will be offered.

What we are really doing is making it impossible for repentance and forgiveness to take place because we really don’t want it to happen.

For whatever reason, we prefer remaining stuck in our pain and anger by reliving the events of the past.

And so, getting back to Joseph – if he doesn’t see his brothers, he doesn’t have to consider forgiving them.

And that part of his psyche can remain intact – he can look at his life and say, “I don’t need them, I don’t want them, I’ll never see them again.”

But, of course, we know that God’s hand is also in this story. The brothers come to visit Joseph because of the famine throughout the land.

They don’t recognize Joseph, but he recognizes them. So now, the issue of how to treat his brothers, and when or if, to disclose his identity to them, becomes a major part of the story.

What will he do?

Rabbi Stephen S. Pearce, a rabbi from San Francisco, writes in a D’var Torah that Joseph actually provides his brothers with many hints and clues which should prod them to ask, “What’s going on here?”

The hints are all items that a skilled communicator might be able to identify and notice. They come not so much from his language as they come from his “body language.”

Rabbi Pearce writes, “For example, on three occasions Joseph struggled to hold back his tears, and even had to take leave of his brothers once when he could not control his weeping.

Nevertheless, the tears welling up in his eyes did not seem to raise their suspicions. When Joseph demanded that the brothers go home and return with Benjamin, they did not think this request odd.

When they returned, they did not think it peculiar that Joseph, who had previously spoken so harshly to them, now greeted them with a feast, gave Benjamin a portion that was huge in comparison to that of the others, and even seated them in exact birth order.”

Joseph is pressing the brothers into admitting that something unusual is going on here. He wants them to come forward, and gives them every opportunity to figure out what happened, repent, and ask forgiveness to Joseph.
They never quite get it, and so at the beginning of today’s Torah portion the best we have is Judah stepping up (that’s what the word Va-yigash really means – to step up and be responsible).

He is ready to put his own life on the line rather than repeat the scenario from years past of selling out one brother for the benefit of the others.

While Joseph realizes that on their own they will not figure out who he is, it is also enough for Joseph to realize that on their own, they will not repeat their past sin.

This is not everything Joseph wanted, but it is enough. He could have left it right there, but he went further. He eventually came to the point of not only wanting to know that they have repented; Joseph also went so far as to offer forgiveness in order to fully restore his relationship with his brothers.

He could no longer live with the poison inside of him. It was eating him up, and he knew that it would never allow him to move on his life.

And so, Joseph discloses his true identity in a two-step process. First, he tells his brothers, after he can no longer restrain himself,

“ I am Joseph, is my father still well?”

And the Torah tells us that his brothers could not answer him, so dumfounded were they on account of him.

So, Joseph changes his language just a little bit and says to his brothers, “’Come forward to me.’ And when they came forward, he said,

‘ I am your brother Joseph….” And he continues to tell them this is really the work of God and it is part of a much greater plan than simply the story of sibling rivalry within one family.

Joseph is declaring, “I am Joseph, and I’m still Joseph, your brother. I want to restore our relationship as brothers, and that’s why I’m disclosing my identity to you. I forgive you, fully, and unconditionally.”

I remember different times in my life when I have been angry with people. And I know how wonderful it feels to offer forgiveness, fully, without reservation.

I know that until I’m ready to do so, there is still too much pain. But when I am ready to do so, it is liberating, redeeming, and life-affirming.

I know that, when I’m offering forgiveness, and I know that, when I receive it unconditionally from others as well.

Joseph was the one who had to offer forgiveness because he was the one who was still so very angry after all these years.

Remember, he had every opportunity to seek out his brothers prior to this, and he chose not to do so.

But ,as the Torah tells us, God had a different plan in mind.

Joseph is referred to in Jewish tradition as a “tzadik – a righteous person.”

Yet, God never speaks directly to Joseph. What kind of an example of a tzadik is that?

I think the answer to that question lies in the fact that he’s the one who changes the pattern.

He’s the one who breaks the mold and creates a new one.

After destructive sibling rivalry for so many generations in the stories of the Torah, we now have sibling reunification and restoration.

Joseph is a tzadik because despite his pain, he’s the one who does the right thing and performs the act of a righteous person.

He forgives and offers blessing and protection to his brothers and, by doing so, he defines one of the ultimate characteristics of family and people-hood.

The first story of siblings in the Bible, the story of Cain and Abel, tells us how Cain kills his brother and tries to conceal his act from God.

The last story of brothers in the Book of Genesis tells us how Joseph reunifies with his brothers and realizes that in that act, he actually sees and identifies the hand of God at work.

Ultimately, the overriding theme of the Book of Genesis can summarized in the last line of Psalm 92, the psalm we read every Shabbat, wherein we declare the righteous person is like a palm tree, planted in the house of the Lord.

His or her righteousness causes increase and production, satisfaction in life, so that ultimately he is the model of a person who can say