31 Dec VAYIGASH: LETTING GO OF MY EXPECTATIONS “I AM WHO I AM BECAUSE YOU SOLD ME”

Do You Know
Who I Am?
It was the final
examination for an
introductory Biology
course at the university.
Like many such
freshman courses, it
was designed to weed out new students, having
over 500 students in the class!
The examination was two hours long, and exam
booklets were provided. The professor was
extremely strict and told the class that any exam
that was not on his desk in exactly two hours
would not be accepted and the student would
fail. Half an hour into the exam, a student came
rushing in and asked the professor for an exam
booklet.
“You’re not going to have time to finish this,”
the professor stated sarcastically as he handed
the student a booklet.
“Yes, I will,” replied the student. He then took a
seat and began writing. After two hours, the
professor called for the exams, and the students
filed up and handed them in. All except the late
student, who continued writing. An hour later,
the last student came up to the professor who
was sitting at his desk preparing for his next
class. He attempted to put his exam on the stack
of exam booklets already there.
“No, I’m not going to accept that. It’s late.”
The student looked incredulous and angry.
“Do you know who I am?”
“No,” replied the professor with an air of
sarcasm in his voice.
“Do you know who I am?” the student asked
again in a louder voice.
“No, and I don’t care,” replied the professor
with hubris.
“Good,” replied the student, who quickly lifted
the stack of completed exams, stuffed his in the
middle, and walked out of the room.
A Brother’s Identity Disclosed
The story of Yosef revealing himself to his
brothers after decades of bitter separation is one

of the most dramatic in the entire Torah. Twenty-
two years earlier, when Yosef was seventeen

years old, his brothers loathing their younger
kin, abducted him, threw him into a pit, and then
sold him as a slave to Egyptian merchants. In
Egypt, he spent twelve years in prison, from
where he rose to become viceroy of the country
that was the superpower at the time. Now, more
than two decades later, the moment was finally
ripe for reconciliation.
Bereishit chapter 45 described the emotional
reunion:
Yosef could not hold in his emotions, he
dismissed all of his Egyptian assistants from his
chamber, thus, no one else was present with
Yosef when he revealed himself to his brothers.
He began to weep with such loud sobs that the
Egyptians outside could hear him.
And Yosef said to his brothers: ‘I am Yosef! Is
my father still alive?’ His brothers were so
horrified that they could not respond.
Yosef said to his brothers, ‘please come close to
me’. When they approached him, he said, “I am
Yosef your brother – it is I whom you sold into
Egypt.
“Now, be not distressed, nor reproach yourself
for having sold me here, for it was to be a
provider that G-d sent me ahead of you… G-d
has sent me ahead of you to ensure your survival
in the land and to sustain you for a momentous
deliverance.”
Analyzing the Encounter
There is something amiss here. Yosef reveals his
identity, saying, “I am Yosef! Is my father still
alive?” His brothers were so horrified that they
could not respond, the Torah says. Then the
narrative continues: “Yosef said to his brothers,
‘please come close to me’. When they
approached him, he said, “I am Yosef your
brother – it is I whom you sold into Egypt. Now
do not be distressed…”
Ostensibly, he is trying to bring them solace and
offer them comfort. Yet his words to them after
they are horrified seem to have the opposite
effect: “I am Yosef your brother – the one you
sold into Egypt.” He now makes it clear that
they are the ones who committed this heinous
crime. Why would he do this at this point when
he’s attempting to relax them? (Especially
considering that Binyamin perhaps did not
know what they did to him; and now for the first
time he was shaming them in front of Binyamin!)
Besides, he already said to them, “I am Yosef.”
Why the need to repeat it: “I am Yosef your
brother – the one whom you sold into Egypt.”
What is more, did he think that they forgot that
they sold them into Egypt? Did they have
another brother Yosef?! And even if he felt
compelled to share this piece of evidence to
prove that he was indeed Yosef, for no one else
would know the story, why didn’t he say this the
first time around when he revealed his identity
to them?
Remorse
It was the second Rebbe of Ger, Rabbi Aryeh
Yehudah Leib Altar (1847-1905), known as the
Sefas Emes, who presented a
moving explanation.
When Yosef revealed his identity, the brothers
realized that all this time they were only seeing
the external Yosef, not the true one. They
thought they were interacting with the gentile
Prime Minister of Egypt when in reality he was
their brother. Suddenly they realized that their
vantage point of reality was external. They were
completely deceived by their eyes.
This opened them up to yet a deeper painful
truth: They never knew their brother. Even
when they saw him, they never really knew him.
“Yosef recognized his brothers but they did
recognize him,” the Torah states. The Alter
Rebbe, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi (1745-
1812) explains it thus: Yosef easily identified
the holiness within his brothers. They lived
most of their lives isolated as spiritual shepherds
involved in prayer, meditation, and study. Yet
these very brothers lacked the ability to discern
the moral richness etched in Yosef’s heart. Even
when Yosef was living with them in Canaan,
they saw him as an outsider, as a danger to the
integrity of the family of Israel. Certainly, when
they encountered him in the form of an Egyptian
leader, they failed to observe beyond the mask

of a savvy politician the heart of a soul on fire.
But when Yosef declared “I am Yosef” it was
not merely a revelation of who he was on the
outside, but also of who he was on the inside.
They suddenly realized how both of his dreams
materialized, and how indeed he was destined to
influence the world and save so many from
famine. For the first time in their entire lives,
Yosef’s brothers saw the greatest holiness in the
world emerging from the face of an Egyptian
vizier.
“His brothers were so horrified that they could
not respond,” relates the Torah. What perturbed
the brothers was not only a sense of fear. What
horrified them more than anything else was the
inner remorse and brokenness, that they can
cause so much pain to such a beautiful soul.
Imagine you were married to the most beautiful,
amazing woman in the world. But due to your
own horrific traumas, you mistreated her
emotionally. After years of all forms of healing,
your brain is cleansed, and you discover what
you did to your innocent spouse. How do you
feel about it? The pain is far deeper than the
punishment and consequences that might come
your way; it is more than guilt. The inner
devastation you experience when you realize
what you have done to such a good person is
agonizing.
Imagine that due to emotional dissociation
caused by your own painful past, you neglected
your children. They did not have an emotionally
present father, or mother, and then after
profound inner work you discover your core,
untarnished self, and you discover the pain you
caused (even if unintentionally). The sense of
remorse is heart-wrenching.
That is what the brothers felt like at that
moment—they discovered what a tragic error
they have made. They were locked in their own
orbit, deaf to the cries of their brother, oblivious
to the horizons that extended beyond theirs,
incapable of appreciating his true soul. The
sense of a profound crime and an irreplaceable
loss tormented them.
They were crushed because of the pain they
caused their holy brother; the pain they caused
their holy father–and the pain they caused the
world: separating Yosef from Yaakov for 22
years. Who knows, they thought, how much
light they deprived the world of by separating
the son from his father?
It was at this moment when “ Yosef said to his
brothers, ‘Please come close to me’.” Yosef
wanted them to approach even closer and gaze
deeper into the divine light coming forth from
his countenance.
“When they approached him,” relates the Torah,
“He said, ‘I am Yosef your brother – it is I whom
you sold into Egypt.” Yosef was not merely
repeating what he had told them earlier (“I am
Yosef”), nor was he informing them of a fact
they were well aware of (“It is I whom you sold
into Egypt”), rather, he was responding to their
sense of tormenting pain, guilt and irrevocable
loss.
The words “I am Yosef your brother – it is I
whom you sold into Egypt” in the original
Hebrew can also be translated as “I am Yosef

your brother – because you sold me into Egypt.”
What Yosef was stating was something
incredibly powerful. I am the person I am today
only because you sold me into Egyptian slavery.
The brothers were trying to harm him, they
separated him from his beloved father and
family, he endured much torment and pain. Yet
at this profound moment of healing Yosef can
look at his life and say to his brothers: “Now, be
not distressed, nor reproach yourself for having
sold me here, for it was to be a provider that G-d
sent me ahead of you… G-d has sent me ahead
of you to ensure your survival in the land and to
sustain you for a momentous deliverance.”
The powerful trials and adversity he faced in the
spiritual jungle of Egypt are precisely what
unleashed the atomic glow the brothers were
presently taking in. They have made him the
person he was now. Their mistakes have allowed
him to become an ambassador of light, hope,
love, and healing to the world.
Had Yosef spent the two decades voyaging with
his father down the paved road of spiritual
serenity, he would have certainly reached great
intellectual and emotional heights. But it was
only through his confrontation with the abyss
that gave Yosef that singular majesty, which
turned him into one of the greatest leaders of the
time, responsible for saving much of humanity.
Yosef was not indifferent to his pain. He cries
more times than anyone else in the Tanach. He
did not repress or deny his agony and torment.
But as he gazed into the pain and sobbed, and as
he surrendered his ego, expectations, and
dreams of what life must look like, to G-d’s will,
he discovered profound meaning and purpose in
his journey, one that he could have never
planned on his own.
If Only…
Just as the brothers, many of us, too, live our
lives thinking “If only…” If only my
circumstances would have been different; if
only I was born into a different type of family; if
only I would have a better personality. If only I
would have treated my spouse or children
differently; if only I would not have been
abused; if only I would not have this mental or
emotional challenge; if only I would not have
this insecurity.
Yes, you may sob. It is painful. Sad. Tough. But
then take a deep breath. Surrender your
expectations. And allow yourself to entertain
the idea that the individual journey of your life,
in all of its ups and downs, is what will
ultimately allow you to discover your unique
mission in this world and impart your singular
light to the cosmos. Can you discover deep in
your heart that the mistakes you made are
somehow part of a plan that will allow more
light to come into the world?