The Weekly Sedra – Parshas Vayigash – Fateful Encounter

“Now, I pledged myself to my father as a guarantee for the lad, saying: ‘If I don’t bring him back to you, I will have sinned against my father forever’ . . . For how could I go back to my father if the youth is not with me?” – Genesis 44:32-34

Yehuda’s conduct contains an everlasting lesson for every Jew: The Holy One, Blessed Be He, endowed him with the responsibility to give his soul for the wellbeing of even a single child – that he shall not part from the walls of Judaism – Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson

This week’s Parsha; Vayigash, opens with the fateful confrontation between Yosef and Yehuda. In light of the elaborate buildup to this dramatic face off – as depicted in the narrative of the preceding several Sedros – coupled by the subsequent historical prominence of these two legendary rivals (as discussed in this week’s Haftorah), one cannot help but share a sense of awe and imagination as to the deep significance of this pivotal encounter.

The essence of Yehuda’s proclamation, during his showdown with the strange acting viceroy, is summarized in the following words: “I pledged myself to my father as a guarantee for the lad. How can I return to my father if the youth is not with me?”

This resounding cry has been interpreted by the Rabbis and scholars throughout the ages to have broad significance. Indeed, it is understood to be vested with eternal relevance; reaching well beyond its literal scope and definition.

The Chassidic master Yaakov Yosef of Pulnoye, for example, interprets Yehuda’s declaration as a perpetual call of accountability for the days of our youth. While it is never too late to learn and to change, there is no denying that the prudent utilization of one’s golden years of youth – when the mind is so impressionable, that virtually everything that is learned is retained throughout life – pays bountiful dividends and must hence be highly valued. This is the gist of King Solomon’s assertion in Proverbs: “Educate the youngster according to his way so even when he matures he will not turn away from it.”

Accordingly, Yehuda’s cry is a cry of acknowledgment, on the part of mankind, as to how precious and valuable are the moments of our youth and how bitter it is when they are squandered – How can I face my Father in Heaven if the days of my youth are not with me.

In somewhat of a different take, Reb Meir of Premishlan derives from this verse that when questioned by the Heavenly Tribune – before whom we all must give a reckoning for the years of our life after passing-on at the age of 120 – we will be asked to account for the way we raised our children. Did we raise them to follow our Jewish tradition and value system? This, according to Reb Meir, is the meaning of the cry: “For how can I go up to my father if the youth is not with me,” meaning: “How can I face my father in Heaven if I deprived my child from his/her Jewish identity and education?”

To deny our offspring their essential identity in life, is perhaps the ultimate injustice that we as parents can perpetrate against our children. This is particularly true of the Jewish people – the descendants of Avraham – who were chosen particularly because of this trait, as it is stated explicitly in Genesis 18:18-19: “And Avraham will be a great and powerful nation, and all the nations of the world will be blessed through him. For I have known (and cherished) him because he instructs his sons and his household after him to keep the way of G-d, acting with charity and justice . . .”

Ironically, nowadays some parents think they are acting in an enlightened manner when they deprive their children from exposure to their religious background. These ill-advised individuals argue that they want to allow their children to “make their own choice” when they are of a suitable age and level of maturity. Until such time, “let them remain neutral.”

How misguided! We wouldn’t dare deprive our children from their secular education – be it science, geography or social studies – with the intention of not wanting to influence their neutrality. That would be viewed as plain craziness. Moreover, not much, if anything, is done to insulate our children from the hedonistic, pleasure-driven culture that is produced and espoused courtesy of Hollywood and the entertainment industry. “After all they need to be well rounded members of society, not social cripples”. Yet when dealing with their very soul and spiritual identity we are willing to risk crippling them in the name of open-mindedness and neutrality.

This syndrome has reached a new level of absurdity with the introduction of a novel bill to the Israeli Knesset, by Labor MK, Ofer Pines. The bill, if passed, would limit the exposure of Israeli youth to their Jewish religion, so that they are not unduly influenced or brainwashed, I kid you not.

The Talmud states: “Who is a fool? He who loses what is given to him.” Can there be a greater loss than that of a 3,000 year old heritage – one that has been defended and preserved from generation to generation through every other form of hardship including oppression, persecution and death. Can there be a greater foolishness than taking risks that might, Heaven forbid, result in the loss of this singularly precious gift.

Chabad Chassidic philosophy takes this idea a step further. It is not just our own youthful years, or even those of our own children, for which we are accountable, we are rather responsible for the spiritual wellbeing of all Jewish children. In pledging himself as a guarantee for the safe return of the child, Yehudah has introduced the concept of Jewish communal responsibility.

In the year 5723, during an address to supporters of the Yeshiva Tomchei Temimim, the Lubavitcher Rebbe told the following story:

“At one point, the Mitteler Rebbe, Dov Ber – son and eventual successor of the first Chabad Rebbe, the Alter Rebbe; Reb Schneur Zalman of Liadi – was living with his father in the same home. The Mitteler Rebbe lived on the ground floor, and his father on the second story.

Once, while the Mitteler Rebbe was deeply immersed in his studies, his infant child fell out of his crib and began to cry. The Mitteler Rebbe was so absorbed in his thoughts that he did not even hear the child and hence continued studying without interruption.

Although he lived on the second story, and was also absorbed in study, the Alter Rebbe himself heard the child crying. He immediately interrupted his studies, went downstairs, picked up the child, calmed him and returned him to his cradle.

Afterwards, the Alter Rebbe admonished his son, the Mitteler Rebbe. He explained that one should never be so absorbed in one’s studies to the point that he cannot hear a child’s cry.

My revered father-in-law, the Rebbe [the previous Lubavitcher Rebbe], expanded on this story, said the Rebbe, teaching that however deeply one is absorbed in study, prayer, or the performance of positive activities, one must always have an ear open to the cries of a Jewish child. One must interrupt one’s studies and one’s prayer to soothe a child in need. Regardless of how important one’s own concerns are, when a Jewish child cries out, one must listen. Putting one’s own concerns aside one must find a way to still the child’s cry.

This story provides us with a lesson relevant to the present time, and the task facing us,” continued the Rebbe. “In recent years, one can see Jews, and in particular Jewish children, awakening to their heritage and beginning to search for Yiddishkeit.

This awakening is felt among 18-year-olds and 20-year-olds, and to a larger extent among 13-year-olds and even younger children. Moreover, young couples with children of four and five have been stirred with a desire to have their little ones experience Yiddishkeit.

Therefore, our obligation has become even stronger. We must provide children with an education based on Torah; the Torah of life. Nothing takes priority over the cries of Jewish children seeking a Jewish education. Involving oneself in this task is of preeminent importance.

We must establish and maintain schools, Yeshivos, and Chadorim which provide genuine Jewish education. We must aim to accommodate the maximum number of children possible.

There are, unfortunately, Jewish homes in which the children do not feel a lack, and therefore are not crying. Relating to these children requires a far greater commitment, for the very fact that they are not aware of the need to cry shows how dire is their need of a genuine Jewish education.

This is one of the missions which Yeshivos must accept. They must be prepared to enroll children from every sector of the Jewish community, without differentiating between those who come from a home where it is realized that something is lacking, and those who come from homes in which they do not feel a need to cry at all.

Every child, regardless of his background, must be given the most complete Jewish education possible. This will insure that he proceeds down the path of life, happy and satisfied, in material as well as in spiritual concerns.”

All this was conveyed by Yehudah, the consummate King of Israel, in his words: “I pledged myself to my father as a guarantee for the lad . . . How can I go up to my father if the youth is not with me,” during his dramatic encounter on that fateful day – words that melted the heart of his opponent and opened the gates of mercy for all Jewish children – young and old – for all times. May we continue to witness this mercy with our own eyes in our own day and age.