Vayechi: Israel-Diaspora Relations

Parshat Vayechi opens and closes with moving deathbed scenes of Yaakov and Yosef, each making final requests regarding their burial. The contrasts between these moments offer a lens for envisioning ideal Israel-Diaspora relations.

Yaakov makes his request to be buried with his forefathers in Canaan twice – first to Yosef and then to his other sons. To Yosef, who has lived in Egypt for some time, he pleads, “Please do not bury me in Egypt,” and requires him to swear an oath ensuring that he will not be buried there, even temporarily. In contrast, he simply instructs his other sons to bury him in the Cave of Machpelah. Yosef, however, is prepared to be buried temporarily in Egypt, asking his brothers only to promise that his bones will be taken to the Land of Israel when the nation is redeemed at the time of the Exodus.

Why was it so essential for Yaakov to be buried immediately in Israel, while Yosef accepted a delay? The Lubavitcher Rebbe explains that Yaakov’s burial in Israel was vital as a symbol of hope and connection for Bnei Yisrael in exile. As Talmud Berakhot teaches, “A prisoner cannot redeem himself from prison.” The people of Israel held on to the image of Yaakov in Israel as a reminder of their ultimate destiny. At the same time, Yosef’s presence in Egypt was necessary; he served as a protector and sustainer of the people in both life and death during their time in galut.

This dynamic offers a template for Israel-Diaspora relations today. As the situation in Israel has stabilized, at least for now, Jewish communities in chutz la’aretz, like Yosef, have a vital role to play in this historic moment – projecting a proud, confident Jewish identity both to fellow Jews and to the broader world. Yet, this is not their final destination. At the same time, we in Israel, like Yaakov, should strive to serve as a source of support, hope and aspiration to strengthen our brothers and sisters and draw them closer to their homeland. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Vayigash: Resolving Family Discord

Vayigash teaches us how to resolve deep discord. For more than twenty years, Yehuda and Yosef represent a family torn apart by conflict, resentment, and estrangement. They remain divided until this moment, when reconciliation finally becomes possible. Yehuda now steps into his role as a leader, and Yosef rises above the pain of the past to act with grace. Their story of family rupture and repair offers a powerful model for our larger family – the people of Israel. 

Yehuda takes the first step and approaches his brother: “Vayigash Yehuda.” This is a pivotal moment in the story. At their lowest point, the brothers “could not speak peaceably” with Yosef; Rashi describes their disdain as having moved on from feelings of brotherhood. Yet here, Yehuda – still unaware that Yosef is his brother – pleads with him to honor the promise made to their father and to protect the youngest brother, Binyamin.

Yehuda’s  willingness to draw close, to speak honestly, and to take responsibility is what ultimately touches Yosef’s heart and bridges the divide. Yehuda models what moral leadership looks like.

At the same time, Yosef rises above potential resentment and reveals himself to his brothers with grace. As Nechama Leibowitz notes, Yosef’s choice of language reflects his inner transformation. First he emphasizes that his brothers sold him into slavery. Yet, soon after he reframes the story using the language of shlichut, recognizing God’s larger plan in bringing him to Egypt to save his family and, ultimately, his people.

The Jewish people need both of these voices today: leaders who take responsibility, like Yehuda, and individuals who, like Yosef, are able to rise above resentments and focus on the larger picture, asking what constructive role each of us can play now for Am Yisrael. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Vayigash: National Unity

Vayigash is the parsha of achdut (Jewish unity). How can we preserve some of the achdut we have seen in Israeli society over the past year and how can we further foster a shared national vision, despite our differences? The approach of Yehuda toward Yosef provides some insight.

“Then Yehuda approached him [Yosef]…” This was a pivotal moment in the story of Yaacov’s sons. At their lowest point, the brothers could not speak peaceably with Yosef. Rashi describes their disdain as having “moved on from all feelings of brotherhood.” However, in Parshat Vayigash, Yehuda—still unaware that Yosef is his brother—pleads with Yosef at length on behalf of Binyamin, determined to fulfill the promise he made to his father.

Bereshit Rabbah likens this encounter to a well with good, cold water at the bottom, which is out of reach until someone ties rope to rope and draws from it and drinks. So too, Yehuda approached Yosef with many words until he found the ones which touched Yosef’s heart. The physical approach, along with words, communication, are the keys to bridging deep divides. 

The haftorah too, contains a vision for Jewish unity, particularly for modern Israel. Yechezkel is told by God to take two sticks and write on one the name Yosef (Ephraim and the tribes of Yisrael) and the other Yehuda and then, “Bring them close to each other, so that they become one stick.” Rav Kook quoted this prophecy in his eulogy for Theodor Herzl and refers to the secular Zionist movement as the “footsteps of the messiah son of Yosef.”

Rav Kook exemplified the ability to approach and draw closer to parts of Israeli society that thought and lived differently. How can we follow in the footsteps of Yehuda, Yechezkel, and Rav Kook to bridge divides and foster deeper unity? Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Miketz: Faith and Effort

Yosef has experienced a number of lows in his life by the time we encounter him in parshat Miketz. He was thrown into a pit, brought down to Egypt and then imprisoned. The commentaries draw insights from Yosef about enduring hardship, balancing faith in God with human hishtadlut (effort) and how not to give into despair.

Yosef, in the hope of going free, asks the chief butler: “But remember me when all is well with you again, and do me the kindness of remembering me to Pharaoh…” However, says the Torah, the chief butler “did not remember him…he forgot him.” Numerous commentaries read this double language as deep forgetting – he removed Yosef’s suffering from his mind and his heart. 

Rashi, citing Bereshit Rabbah, teaches that Yosef remained in prison an extra two years because he put his trust in the chief butler. The repetition refers to forgetting him on that day and also thereafter. The midrash reinforces this through a verse from Tehillim: “Happy is the man who makes the Lord his trust, who turns not to the arrogant…” If this is so, what need is there for us to do our part, our hishtadlut, to bring about our freedom? Other sources emphasize Yosef’s mistake was putting too much faith in outside help. The Kli Yakar comments that when he used conditional language (“but remember me…) it indicates that otherwise he would lose hope. 

The combination of physical effort and spiritual faith is a defining characteristic of Hanukkah. The Hasmoneans did their part and God brought the miracles. As Rabbi Sacks writes: “We need both: human effort and Divine favor. We have to be, in a certain sense, patient and impatient – impatient with ourselves but patient in waiting for God to bless our endeavors.”

May we follow in Yosef’s footsteps and keep up the incredible efforts and deep faith we are seeing around us and may we merit remembrance and miracles, salvation and victory. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Miketz: Truly Seeing

One word appears throughout the story of Yosef and his brothers – הכר – to recognize. The word is first used at the lowest point in their relationship. In   Parshat Miketz however, it marks a turning point in the brothers’ ability to recognize each other’s distress and take steps toward healing.  

First, when Yosef is taken down to Egypt, the brothers deceptively dip his famed coat in animal blood. They then show it to Yacov as evidence of Yosef’s death and ask “haker na?!” “Do you recognize this coat?” Later, Tamar says the exact same words to Yehuda, in an attempt to get him to recognize her suffering and take responsibility for her. 

In parshat Miketz this word is used again, when the brothers come down to Egypt during a famine looking for sustenance. They find themselves standing before Yosef and “Yosef recognized (ויכר) his brothers, but they did not recognize (הכירוהו) him.” In fact, it states twice that Yosef recognized them. Why this contrast? Rashi, citing Bereshit Rabbah, interprets the brothers lack of recognition as referring to the past, when the brothers didn’t recognize and treat Yosef as a brother when he was vulnerable. However, the Torah emphasizes that Yosef rose above the past when he recognizes them and has mercy on them. 

Interestingly, this word is also used in the Mishna Brachot’s teaching about when one can begin to say the Shema in the morning: “from when one can distinguish (משיכיר) between blue and white.” The Talmud brings an alternative to this time indicator: “From the time when one sees his friend at a distance of four cubits away and recognizes him.” Perhaps here, like in the Yosef narrative, “הכר” is being used both literally and figuratively. As the new day begins and daylight dawns, we are encouraged to look around more carefully, and to be cognizant of and caring toward others. Shabbat Shalom /Hanukkah Sameach /Chodesh Tov – Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Miketz: Light to See

One word appears throughout the story of Yosef and his brothers – הכר – to recognize. The word is first used at the lowest point in their relationship. In   Parshat Miketz however, it marks a turning point in the brothers’ ability to recognize each other’s distress and take steps toward healing.  

First, when Yosef is taken down to Egypt, the brothers deceptively dip his famed coat in animal blood. They then show it to Yacov as evidence of Yosef’s death and ask “haker na?!” “Do you recognize this coat?” Later Tamar says the exact same words to Yehuda, in an attempt to get him to recognize her suffering and take responsibility for her. In parshat Miketz this word is used again, when the brothers come down to Egypt during a famine looking for sustenance. They find themselves standing before Yosef. However, “Yosef recognized (ויכר) his brothers, but they did not recognize (הכירוהו) him.” The midrash Tanhuma interprets their lack of recognition as referring to the past, when the brothers did not recognize Yosef, meaning they didn’t have mercy on him. Yet here, Yosef rises above the past and recognizes them and has mercy on them. 

Interestingly, the same word is used in the Mishna Brachot’s teaching of when one can begin to say the Shema in the morning: “from when one can distinguish (משיכיר) between blue and white…” Perhaps, “הכר” is used here both literally and figuratively. As the new day begins and daylight dawns, we should also look around and be mindful of those who need some recognition and care. This relates to Hanukkah candles as well. Hanukkah is a time to focus on seeing and recognizing, as we increase the light of the candles each night and banish the darkness. May this be a Chag Urim Sameach and Shabbat Shalom! – Karen Miller Jackson