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What are the Avot made of? To find out, Hashem tests them: “Sacrifice your son for Me.” You and I will probably never face that kind of test. But the sons of Ya’akov face tests like those we may encounter in our own lives. Yosef, for example, isolated from his family and surrounded by an alien culture, struggles to resist the powerful sexual temptation of his boss’s wife. Modern working life can certainly present the same challenges. If I may sully this forum by presenting one real-life example, the Wall Street Journal recently reported that a former employee of a major brokerage form sued the firm for dismissing him; the boss’s wife had allegedly been pursuing him with all the eagerness of Mrs. Potifar, and he, unlike Yosef, succumbed, partially in fear of losing his job if he offended her. When the boss found out, things got messy, and the philanderer got the axe.

Yehuda, also separated from his family (voluntarily: “va-ye-red Yehuda me-et ehav”), also faces sexual temptation, in the form of his daughter-in-law, disguised as a woman for hire. How Yehuda handles this challenge and the web of complexities it spawns is one of our topics this week.

Re’uvein, as well, becomes enmeshed in sexual impropriety of some sort, whether he sleeps with one of his father’s wives (following the plain sense of the Torah) or merely interferes with the balance of intimacy in Ya’akov’s relationship with his wives (following some midrashim). Sexuality, a powerful but often hidden force, is ever-present in human relationships and in the religious context. How the Avot handle these matters illustrates the degree of self-mastery we should aspire to, as well as the path of courageous repentance we must take if we stumble. The Torah hides the Avot’s mistakes no more than it hides their heroic resistance to sin, and we are meant to learn from both.

Last week, we focused on Yosef. Our analysis actually extended significantly beyond Parashat VaYeshev and into Parashat Mikketz, this week’s parasha, as we traced Yosef’s replacement of Paro as leader of Egypt and Yosef’s personal reformation as a leader and religious-moral figure, climaxing with his standing before Paro and giving Hashem all of the credit for his power to interpret dreams. This week we will take a close look at Yehuda’s development as a leader. We will look back at Parashat VaYeshev, where Yehuda first gets serious exposure, and continue into Mikketz, where he begins to take a leadership role within his family. Parashat VaYigash, next week’s parasha, presents the clash of these titans, where Yehuda confronts his disguised brother and Yosef, satisfied by his manipulation of his brothers, eventually reveals his identity to them.

1. Both become involved in sexual impropriety, as noted above.
2. Both suggest alternate ideas when the other brothers suggest killing Yosef.
3. Both attempt to take responsibility for Binyamin on his journey to Egypt.

But how are Yehuda and Re’uvein different? How is this reflected later in Ya’akov’s blessings to them at the end of his life (Chap. 49)?

We join the brothers at Dotan, a place somewhere in the general vicinity of the family home at Hevron. They are at Dotan pasturing their flocks; Yosef, dispatched by his father, approaches them to observe and report to his father. But he will not see his father for more than twenty years!

RE’UVEIN’S ATTEMPT:

As Yosef approaches, the brothers hatch a scheme to do away with him. Someone (the Torah does not identify him) suggests killing him, but Re’uvein quickly intervenes and suggests that they throw him into a pit instead: why actively murder him when they can just leave him somewhere to die? The Torah tells us that Re’uvein actually plans to rescue Yosef from the pit and return him to his father, but as we know, he never has that opportunity. Still, we have learned something important about Re’uvein: he is a leader. He is not swept along with the crowd’s plan to kill Yosef. He feels responsible to make sure that the tense relationship between the brothers does not lead to murder. This fits with his status as the bekhor, the eldest.

Re’uvein also understands that openly challenging his brothers may not work, so he pretends to go along with their intent to murder Yosef as he deflects them from immediate murder. A smart leader knows that he cannot always lead by taking the high moral ground and insisting that the crowd follow him. You can’t turn back a lynching mob by preaching; a more subtle approach is necessary. As the Mishna in Pirkei Avot says, “Do not try to appease your friend while he is angry, or comfort him while the body [of a loved one] lies before him . . .” (4:18). There will be other opportunities to teach the brothers how better to handle their anger and jealousy—right now, Re’uvein must focus on the smartest way to save Yosef’s life.

RE’UVEIN IN THE DARK:

Later on, down in Egypt, when the brothers are treated harshly by Yosef (whom they do not recognize), they conclude that they are being punished by Hashem for having ignored Yosef’s cries when he begged them for mercy. Re’uvein says to them at that point, “Did I not tell you, saying, ‘Do not sin with the boy!’ But you did not listen—and now his blood is being sought (by God)!” (42:22). Strangely, Re’uvein seems convinced that Yosef is dead (“his blood is being sought”). Why is he so sure? And why does he make it sound like the brothers did not heed his advice, when we know that he advised them not to actively kill Yosef, and instead to throw him in a pit—and that they seem to have listened to him at the time?

We need to look back at the events around the time of the sale of Yosef. Re’uvein suggests throwing Yosef in a pit (37:21-22), and the brothers listen to him. But then Yehuda suggests that they sell Yosef instead. The brothers agree, and Yosef is pulled out of the pit and sold to traders heading for Egypt. Suddenly, it seems, Re’uvein notices that Yosef is gone. He exclaims in surprise, “The boy is gone! What am I going to do?” (37:29-30). Hasn’t Re’uvein been paying attention? Doesn’t he know that Yosef has been pulled out of the pit by the brothers and sold?

It seems that Re’uvein had been absent when Yehuda suggested selling Yosef, and only returned after he had been sold. At that point, he returned to the pit to save Yosef, as he had planned, and discovered that Yosef was gone! He then returned to the brothers and exclaimed in surprise and dismay that Yosef was gone. He assumed that the brothers had changed their plan and had indeed murdered Yosef and then disposed of him. “What will I do?!” he demands of them mournfully.

Re’uvein, it seems, is never clued in to the fact that Yosef has been sold; later, when the brothers are manipulated by the Egyptian ruler and they conclude thaHashem is punishthem for mistreating Yosef, Re’uvein’s admonishment—“You did not listen [to my advice], and now his blood is being sought (by God)”—shows that he has never been told the truth! He believes Yosef has been murdered, that the brothers ultimately rejected his warning not to actively spill Yosef’s blood, and now “his blood is being sought.” But why do the brothers keep Re’uvein in the dark? Why don’t they tell him that Yosef was never killed, that they had pulled him from the pit and sold him to traders heading to Egypt?

Perhaps the brothers hide the truth from Re’uvein because when he returned to the pit and did not find Yosef, he came back to the brothers and expressed his horror about Yosef’s disappearance. In other words, he revealed to them that he had been planning all along to save Yosef; this is, of course, why he is so horrified by Yosef’s disappearance. The brothers realize that they cannot tell Re’uvein what really happened because he is not on their side—he will simply go and tell Ya’akov that Yosef is not dead so that efforts can be made to find Yosef and buy him out of slavery. The brothers can keep Re’uvein quiet only by letting him think that they changed their minds and decided to kill Yosef after all; he will not tell Ya’akov of the murder because doing so would not save Ya’akov any grief, and, if anything, would only add to it. So Re’uvein now rebukes the brothers for not listening to him and murdering Yosef despite his advice—“Did I not say to you, saying, ‘Do not sin with the boy!’ But you did not listen—and now his *blood* (=murder, which is what he believes occurred, since he and the other brothers still do not recognize Yosef) is being sought (by God)!”

The brothers follow Re’uvein’s advice and throw Yosef into a pit, then sit down to eat. They notice a caravan of merchants heading for Egypt, and this gives Yehuda an idea:

Yehuda said to his brothers, “What do we gain by killing our brother and covering up his blood? Let us go and sell him to the Yishma’elim, and let us not set our own hands upon him, for he is our brother, our flesh,” and his brothers listened.

Rabbi Mayer [Sanhedrin 6b] is sharply critical of Yehuda for making this suggestion and trying to profit from the sale of his own brother:

Rabbi Meir says: “[The word] ‘botze’a’ [’profiteer’] is used with regard to Yehuda, as it says: ‘Yehuda said to his brothers, ‘What profit [betza] do we get from killing our brother?’ Anyone who blesses Yehuda annoys God, as it says, ‘Blessing a profiteer [botze’a] annoys God.’”

If we take a careful look at the Torah’s report of Yehuda’s words, it seems from the beginning of what he says that he does indeed want to sell Yosef in order to make money; merely killing Yosef would get rid of him, but selling him would also make them some cash! But as he continues, it seems clear that Yehuda feels that killing Yosef is *wrong* -- he is “our brother, our flesh.” The reason he suggests selling Yosef is because this will accomplish the goal of getting rid of Yosef without necessitating actually killing him. His statement, “What do we gain . . .”, does not mean “What $money$ do we gain by killing him,” but instead means “Why actually kill him (by letting him starve or die of thirst or snakebite in the pit where we left him) -- we need not murder our brother in order to get rid of him; we can sell him instead.” Yehuda is saving Yosef’s life!

Taken in this way, Yehuda’s action reminds us of Re’uvein’s—he is trying to save Yosef by deflecting the brothers from murder. Certainly, this is a praiseworthy accomplishment. But Re’uvein, the Torah tells us, does what he does in order to “return Yosef to his father”; Yehuda, on the other hand, seems to have no such intention, otherwise the Torah would say so, as it does with regard to Re’uvein. Re’uvein seems concerned with two issues:

Yehuda seems concerned about only the first of these issues. He is not deterred by the thought of the pain he will cause his father by arranging Yosef’s disappearance (and claiming he is dead!). He is unwilling to murder, but quite willing to get rid of the “dreamer” by selling him into Egyptian oblivion. As the story develops, we will see that Yehuda eventually becomes deeply sensitive to Ya’akov’s feelings, willing to sacrifice tremendously in order to protect Ya’akov from further pain.

Seforno points out (38:1) that Yehuda is paid back in *spades* for suggesting that Yosef be sold instead of trying (like Re’uvein) to foil the other brothers’ plans and return Yosef to his father. Because he does not consider the effect on his father of the disappearance/”death” of Yosef, Ya’akov’s favorite son, two of his own sons—Er and Onan—die.

Of course, there are independent reasons for the deaths of Er and Onan, Yehuda’s sons: the Torah says that Er dies because he is “evil in the eyes of God,” while Onan, who marries Tamar, his brother’s widow, dies because he refuses to have children with Tamar (and instead “destroys his seed”), knowing that any children he might have with her would be considered (in some way) his brother’s children. As we have seen several times, whenever someone suffers a punishment, there should be a reason why that person himself deserves to be punished. And in this case, Er and Onan deserve punishment for their own misdeeds. But Yehuda, their father, also apparently deserves to suffer the death of his children for his insensitivity to Ya’akov’s pain in losing Yosef, his child. By the end of this story, however, we will see that this weakness becomes one of Yehuda’s greatest strengths.

[The other brothers, of course, may also suffer punishments for their roles in the sale, but we do not hear about them. The Torah focuses on filling in the sketches of the major figures, such as Yehuda, Yosef, and to a lesser extent, Re’uvein.]

After selling Yosef and dipping his royal cloak (see last week’s shiur) in blood, the brothers return to Ya’akov, who concludes that Yosef is dead and slips deep into mourning for his son.

The Torah then takes a sudden turn into the private life of Yehuda and spends a whole perek (chapter) in his world:

It happened, at that time, that Yehuda went down from among his brothers and turned to an Adulamite man, whose name was Hira. Yehuda saw there the daughter of a Cana’ani [traveling merchant(?) -- see mefarshim] whose name was Shu’a; he took her [married her] and came to her.

Bat Shu’a, as she is later called by the Torah, bears three sons to Yehuda: Er, Onan, and Shayla. Yehuda marries off his son Er to a woman named Tamar; when Er dies, Yehuda marries off Onan, his second son, to Tamar. When Onan dies as well, Yehuda balks at offering his last son to her, fearing that he too will die. Yehuda puts Tamar off by telling her to wait until Shayla grows up.

Tamar patiently waits as Shayla grows older, but when Yehuda still does not offer his son to her, she takes matters into her own hands. Dressing as a prostitute (in those days, prostitutes covered their faces—see mefarshim—so Yehuda does not recognize her as his daughter-in-law), she positions herself on a road she knows is in Yehuda’s path. Yehuda eventually arrives, thinks her a prostitute, arranges to leave collateral with her as guarantee for later payment, avails himself of her services, and goes on his way. Later, when he sends a friend to deliver payment, the “prostitute” is nowhere to be found. [I know some may find the term “prostitute” indelicate, but the words used by the Torah here are “zona” and “kedeisha,” translated by the (usually squeamish) Artscroll Stone Chumash as “prostitute” and “harlot.”]

Three months later, Tamar’s pregnancy (the result of her rendezvous with Yehuda) becomes apparent. Yehuda is told of her pregnancy and condemns her to death for adultery (she is technically still “married” to Yehuda’s family as the widow of Er and Onan), but when she produces the collateral which is unmistakably his,he admits—publicly—that he is the father. Tamar is saved, but efinds out that Yehuda was intimate with her thinking she was a prostitute.

What is the lesson of this *very* strange story? Comparing it to a similar story involving a famous direct male-line descendant of Yehuda may illuminate the matter:

David, crowned by God, has a friend named Hiram, who is king of a neighboring kingdom (see Shmuel II:5:11 and Melakhim I:5:15); note that the name “Hiram” is curiously similar to the name of Yehuda’s friend, “Hira,” mentioned above.

One day, David sees a woman named “Bat Sheva”—a name curiously similar to “Bat Shu’a,” the name of Yehuda’s wife—and David desires her and takes her although she is married. David sends her husband Uria off to the front lines of battle to be killed. But then God sends Natan (the prophet) to David to rebuke him for what he has done. Natan traps David into condemning himself:

God sent Natan to David. He came to him and said to him, “There were two men in a city, one rich and one poor. The rich one had a great number of sheep and cattle, but the poor one had nothing but one little lamb he had bought and kept alive. It grew up with him and his sons together, ate from his bread, drank from his cup, lay in his lap, and was like a daughter to him. A traveler came to [visit] the rich man; [the rich man] pitied his own sheep and cattle too much to make one of them [into a meal] for his visitor, so he took the lamb of the poor man and made it [into a meal] for his guest!”

David became furious at this [rich] man and said to Natan, “By the life of God, the man who did this deserves to die! He shall pay for the lamb four times over, for doing this thing and for not having mercy!”

Natan said to David, “YOU are the [rich] man! So says God, Lord of Yisrael: ‘I anointed you king over Yisrael and saved you from Sha’ul. I gave you the house of your master . . . . Why have you desecrated the word of God, doing evil in My eyes? You have stricken Uria the Hiti with a sword and taken his wife as your wife; you killed him with the sword of the children of Ammon . . . . You acted in secret, but I will [punish you] before all of Israel, before the sun!’”

David said, “I have sinned to God.”

Natan said to David, “God has forgiven you; you will not die. But . . . the son who is born [from your union with Bat Sheva] will die.”

YEHUDA DAVID

Of course, as mentioned, Yehuda is also David’s great grandfather!

[Many like to point out that Rav Shmuel b. Nahmeini—Shabbat 56a—‘reinterprets’ David’s actions and claims that he did not actually sin in taking Bat Sheva and having Uria killed. But if you keep reading the Gemara there, Rav, the Amora, responds that R. Shmuel b. Nahmeini is saying this only because he himself is descended from David! Other views in Hazal go so far as to claim that David not only took a married woman, but that he raped her as well (Ketubot 9a). It is important to keep in mind that there are often multiple opinions on such matters within Hazal, and certainly among later commentators. We attempt in these shiurim to follow “peshat” as closely as possible, as discussed in this forum on several occasions.]

The central pattern repeated in the stories of both Yehuda and David HaMelekh is the “sting,” as it were. In the case of David, the “sting” strategy is clear: Natan is sent by God to arouse David’s fury at the “rich man.” When his anger is in full bloom, his outrage at the cruel, unfeeling “rich man” at its indignant apex, Natan’s mission is to utterly puncture David’s righteous anger by telling him that *he* is the “rich man”! This “sting,” which draws David in and then makes him the target of his own condemnation, is so psychologically devastating that David Ha-Melekh can respond with only two words: “Hatati LaShem”—“I have sinned to God.” He offers no arguments, excuses, explanations, mitigations—only a humble, simple admission of guilt before God. Would that we could admit mistakes with such pure contrition!

This admission of sin is the cornerstone of teshuva. This is clear not only from Natan’s reaction to David’s admission—that David has been forgiven and will not actually die—but also from the famous Rambam [Maimonides] in Hilkhot Teshuva [Laws of Repentance] (1:1), where the Rambam says that “when a person repents, he must admit the sin . . . admitting the sin is a positive obligation (mitzvat asei).” Many have pointed out that according to the Rambam’s formulation, the mitzvah appears to be the *viduy,* the *admission* of sin, not the repentance itself! Recognizing sin and articulating that recognition are not only halakhically necessary for teshuva, but can also be transforming, psychologically and religiously (but perhaps not if performed in robot-like, emotionless vocalization of the “Al het” prayer in the Yom Kippur tefilot or mindless chest-beating in the daily “Selakh lanu”).

Most people intuitively understand this halakha of viduy—just look at how hard it usually is for people to admit they have done something wrong. Once we can admit it (even privately), it’s “out there” psychologically, and repentance can move forward.

Yehuda, too, walks into a “sting.” After his intimacy with the unknown prostitute (really Tamar), he goes on his way. But when he tries to send payment to her for her service (and collect the important personal collateral he has left with her), she is nowhere to be found. About three months later, Tamar begins to show signs of pregnancy:

It happened, after about three months, that it was told to Yehuda, saying, “Tamar, your daughter-in-law, has committed adultery, and is also pregnant from adultery!” Yehuda said, “Take her out and let her be burned [to death]!”

Why is Yehuda involved in passing judgment on Tamar? Most of us assume that Yehuda is consulted either because he is a judge or, as some mefarshim (commentators) explain, because the custom was that the husband of an unfaithful woman [in those times, a widow like Tamar was considered betrothed in potential to the remaining brothers of her deceased husband or to the other men of the family, including Yehuda himself] had the prerogative of deciding whether she should live or die.

But there is one other reason that Yehuda must be consulted: the implicit question the people are asking him when they tell him that Tamar is pregnant is, “Could it be that you are responsible for her pregnancy, and therefore she has not committed adultery and does not deserve to die?” Yehuda’s response—“Take her out and let her be burned!”—is a clear answer in the negative: “I am not responsible for her pregnancy.” Like David, he walks into the “sting” by condemning someone to death, where in truth he himself is responsible.

Before long, the condemned Tamar sends Yehuda the message that the owner of the collateral she holds is also the father of the fetus. Yehuda recognizes the collateral as his own belongings, and he must now “eat his words” -- *he* is the guilty party, not Tamar, whom he had just condemned to death. Like David, his words are few, but in them he recognizes that Tamar is innocent of adultery and that she acted justifiably in response to his cruel refusal to marry her to his son.

Implicit also is the admission that he thought she was a prostitute when he was intimate with her, surely a great embarrassment to him. We can only imagine thdepth of Yehuda’s mortification when he sees the collateral—his own signet ring, his staff, and his “petil” [whthat is, which is not clear] -- and realizes that he must either remain silent and watch the innocent Tamar die, or admit to the entire community what he has done. He could remain silent—perhaps many people would—but instead he endures the shame of retracting the confident, terse verdict, “Take her out and let her be burned,” and announces that she is right and he is wrong.

Yehuda’s power of teshuva, his strength of admitting his mistakes, is actually hinted by his name. Back in Parashat VaYetze, Yehuda’s mother, Le’ah, names him “Yehuda” as an expression of thanks to God: the “yud” and “heh” [”yah”] stand for God, and the “heh,” “vav,” and “dalet” [”hod”] -- mean “glory” or “thanks/praise”; putting the two together [”yah” + “hod” = “Yehuda”] yields “Glory to God!” or “Thanks to God!”

But “hod” also means “to admit.” The word “hoda’a”, for example, means both “thanks/praise” and “admission.” The word “viduy,” the process of admitting sin, comes from the same root, as does the word “Toda,” meaning “Thanks!” The reason “hod” includes both glorifying/thanking and admitting is because, in a way, thanking is also admitting that someone has done something for us and that we are beholden (or, vice versa, because admitting something gives glory to the recipient of the admission). This is what we mean in Shemoneh Esrei when we say the berakha of “Modim,” which also comes from the same root as “Yehuda,” “hod,” and “viduy.” Yehuda, then, means both “Thanks to God” and also “The one who admits [wrongdoing] before God.”

This power of Yehuda’s, the strength to admit he has done wrong, is later recognized by Ya’akov in his blessing to Yehuda among the blessings he gives to all of his sons in Parashat VaYehi:

“Yehuda, your brothers shall defer to you/praise you [”yodukha”]; your hand is on the scruff of your enemy’s neck, and your father’s sons shall bow to you. A young lion is Yehuda; from tearing [”teref”], my son, you arose . . . .”

“Yodukha”—“admit [to] you”—means that the other brothers will admit that he is their leader, and, as Ya’akov goes on to explain, that they will bow to him. Because Yehuda has the power to recognize the truth of his own misdeed and admit it—even when the truth is deeply embarrassing or uncomfortable—his brothers will recognize his leadership and “admit” that he is their leader (see Rashbam and Radak, 49:9).

Ya’akov’s blessing also hints one other thing: Ya’akov is recognizing that although Yehuda was involved in “teref,” “tearing [prey],” he has “arisen” from that event. Remember that when Ya’akov is tricked into believing that Yosef has been killed by a wild animal, he cries out, “tarof taraf Yosef”—“Yosef has been torn apart!”, using the same word—“teref”—as he later uses in this berakha. Yehuda was deeply involved in that “teref”—the plan to sell Yosef was his—but Ya’akov’s blessing at the end of Sefer Bereshit recognizes that Yehuda “arose” after that event. In other words, the “teref” was a low point in Yehuda’s career, but he “arose” from that low point to become the leader of all of the brothers.

Now, we move to Parashat Mikketz to see how Yehuda “arose” from the “teref” to assume leadership of the family.

As the seven years of plenty come to an end and the seven years of famine begin, Egypt and all of its neighbors begin to starve. Yosef responds by opening Egypt’s storehouses and selling food to the people, but the neighboring countries, not blessed with a “Yosef” and his divinely inspired prescience, can only turn to Egypt for relief. Included among the seekers of sustenance is Ya’akov’s family. All of the brothers go down to Egypt for food except Binyamin, who is kept home by his father. Ya’akov fears that if he lets Binyamin go, he may never see him again (like Yosef).

When the brothers arrive in Egypt and appear before Yosef, he immediately recognizes them and accuses them of spying (recall that his spying on them was one of the reasons the brothers hated Yosef!). Yosef demands that they prove their story is true by bringing their younger brother down to Egypt. When the brothers return to Ya’akov and tell him the story, he refuses to permit Binyamin to go to Egypt, for fear that he will be somehow harmed, as Yosef was.

Re’uvein attempts to change Ya’akov’s mind by guaranteeing Binyamin’s safety:

Re’uvein said to his father, saying, “Kill my two sons if I do not bring him [Binyamin] back to you! Give him into my hands, and I will return him to you.”

Ya’akov does not accept this offer, and refuses to allow Binyamin to leave. Why?

Some mefarshim (Rashi, Radak, etc.) cite Hazal’s explanation: Hazal refer to Re’uvein as a “bekhor shoteh,” a “foolish firstborn.” Ya’akov does not actually respond to Re’uvein’s guarantee, but Hazal say that he is thinking, “You fool! Are your sons not also my GRANDSONS? Your loss would also be my loss!” But the Ramban offers another explanation: Ya’akov does not *trust* Re’uvein because 1) he does not have the respect of the other brothers, as Yehuda does, and 2) Re’uvein has already shown disloyalty to his father by sleeping with Bilha, his father’s wife.

We can add that Ya’akov does not trust Re’uvein’s guarantee because the guarantee itself shows that his judgment is seriously flawed: how can he guarantee the safety of one person by threatening the safety of two others!? In addition, the extreme consequences Re’uvein agrees to suffer for failing his mission are tremendously overblown—the death of his two sons! He offers this guarantee to convince Ya’akov how serious he is, but he only succeeds in convincing Ya’akov that he is either unstable or untrustworthy.

Time passes and the family begins to run out of food. Ya’akov commands his sons to return to Egypt for food, but Yehuda patiently responds that they can return to Egypt only with Binyamin. Of course, Ya’akov has not forgotten that this was the condition that the Egyptian ruler had set for their return. But in his great reluctance to send Binyamin with them, he hides for a moment from reality. He knows his sons will remind him of the necessity of taking Binyamin with them, but for Ya’akov, life has become a nightmare, and for a moment, he tries to ignore one particularly unpleasant aspect of it. Ya’akov may also hope to provoke one of his sons to offer a guarantee of safe passage for Binyamin which he can trust more than the guarantee offered by Re’uvein. In this, he succeeds.

Yehuda is the one who reminds Ya’akov of reality, patiently repeating what he knows his father knows: that they must take Binyamin. Ya’akov protests further, and eventually, Yehuda offers Ya’akov a guarantee:

“I will take responsibility for him—seek him from my hands. If I do not bring him back to you and stand him before you, I will have sinned to you for all time.”

Yehuda offers no fireworks: no “kill my sons” or “cut out my tongue” or anything like that. He simply and reasonably promises to take care of Binyamin: he provides consequences which sound unpleasant enough that Ya’akov believes that Yehuda will make great efforts to avoid failure, but not so unpleasant (“kill my sons”) that Ya’akov will either think he is not serious or that his judgment is impaired and that he is incapable of the mission he undertakes.

Yehuda now begins to take over the role of leadership from his father. He shows leadership in bringing his father back to reality and in taking responsibility for Binyamin. But on a deeper level, he also shows deep concern for Ya’akov’s paternal fears and feelings. Instead of guaranteeing Binyamin’s safety by putting himself at risk (“I will have sinned to you for all time”), he could easily have said harshly, “Look, we will all die unless you agree to let Binyamin go with us! Don’t you realize that we are all now in danger of dying of hunger? How can you talk about what *might* happen to one of your sons when it is clear unless you let him go with us, *all* of us will die!” Instead, Yehuda puts himself at risk and offers a guarantee—all in order to ease his father’s fears. Innext week’s parasha, we see that when Yosef insists on imprisoning Binyamin, Yehuda is willing to go to prison for as long as necessary in order to deliver on this commitment—in order to protect his father from the pain of having Binyamin disappear.

This is not the same Yehuda as the one who suggested selling Yosef to the passing caravan! This is the Yehuda who has “arisen” from the “teref” of Yosef!

Another famous Rambam (based on Yoma 86b):

“What is COMPLETE TESHUVA? When another opportunity comes to do the same sin, and he is capable of doing it, and he does not do it, because he has repented—not because of fear or weakness.”

In a sense, Yehuda’s acquisition of deep sensitivity to Ya’akov’s feelings is a process in which he *becomes* Ya’akov himself. Long ago (in Parashat VaYeitzei), Ya’akov took his family and flocks and ran away from Lavan without telling him. Lavan pursued him, and, when he caught up with Ya’akov, accused him of stealing his gods. Ya’akov allowed Lavan to search his belongings, and when Lavan found nothing, Ya’akov became furious:

“It is now twenty years that I have been with you—your sheep and goats never lost their young [”shikeilu”], and your rams I did not consume. I never brought to you a “tereifa” [torn-up animal] -- I blamed myself for it, and you sought it from my hands, whether stolen from me during day or night.”

Let us focus on three elements of Ya’akov’s testimony to his great self-sacrifice and honesty as Lavan’s shepherd:

A careful look at the Ya’akov of VaYeshev and Mikketz shows that he seems to suffer exactly the things from which he protected Lavan and his flocks:

But then Yehuda steps in, and by reversing these two tragedies, he rises to greatness and emulates Ya’akov, who so carefully avoided causing “teref” and “shikul” so long ago:

Additionally, Yehuda promises that if he fails in his mission to return Binyamin, “ve-hatati lekha kol ha-yamim,” paralleling Ya’akov’s “ahatena”—both accept blame for failure [”het”] as their personal responsibility.

Next week, as we discuss Yosef’s manipulation of the brothers, we will also look at Yehuda’s emotional speech to Yosef, which is what finally forces Yosef to reveal himself.

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