19 Dec VAYIGASH: TAKING RESPONSIBILITY FOR OUR CHILDREN WILL YOU KVETCH OR LEAD?

Transformation of
a Brother
Yosef could not
contain his tears, nor
can we, when we
read each year the
story of how after a

feud and separation that endured for twenty-
two years, the Prime Minister of Egypt, Yosef,

reveals his true identity to his brothers who
once attempted to kill him and sold him into
slavery.
No less moving is the speech—nay, ballad—
presented by Yehuda, compelling Yosef to
reveal himself to his brothers.
We are familiar with the story: After having
his silver goblet placed in his brother
Binyamin’s saddlebag, Yosef accuses him of
theft and claims Binyamin the “thief” as his
slave. Yehuda, approaches the viceroy of
Egypt, unknowing that this was Yosef, and
explains to him that there was no way he
could return to his aging father Yaakov
without young Binyamin.
The Torah transcribes Yehuda’s exact
presentation, the longest in all of Bereishit:
“And now if I come to your servant, my
father, and the lad [Binyamin] is not with us,
and his soul is so bound up with his soul,
when he will see that the lad is gone, he will
die. And your servants will have brought
down the hoariness of your servant our father
in sorrow to the grave.
“Because your servant [Yehuda] took
responsibility for the lad [Binyamin] from my
father, saying, ‘If I do not bring him to you,
then I will have sinned to my father, for all
time.’
“Now, please let your servant [Yehuda]
remain in the place of the lad as a servant to
my lord, and let the lad go up with his
brothers…”
Twenty-two years earlier, the same Yehuda
said to his brothers, “What will we gain if we
kill our brother [Yosef] and cover his blood?
Let’s sell him to the Arabs and not harm him
with our own hands.” The brothers consented.
Yosef was sold and brought to Egypt as a
slave, where, years later, he rose to become
the viceroy of the country. Now, when Yosef
‘s younger brother Binyamin is about to be
taken as a slave, Yehuda offers himself
instead.
A metamorphosis has occurred. The time is
fertile for reconciliation and renewal. Yosef
can reunite with his family.
But there is more.

The Gift of Royalty
Tradition has it that royalty in the Jewish
nation belongs primarily to the descendants of
Yehuda. Of course, there were many Monarchs
who descended from other tribes of Israel, like
King Shaul from the tribe of Binyamin, or
Yeravaam from the tribe of Yosef. The
Hasmonean dynasty, responsible for the
Chanukah festival, was from the Leviim. Yet,
as Yaakov tells his son Yehuda on his
deathbed, the gift of royalty was specifically
conferred upon him and his descendants; the
quality of leadership was imbued in the DNA
of Yehuda’s descendants, producing over the
generations numerous leaders and kings, from
Dovid Hamelech to Moshiach who will also

be a descendant of Dovid, the great-great-
grandchild of Yehuda.

Why? What did Yehuda do to deserve this?
Was it because he was the one who ultimately
saved Yosef from dying in a pit by selling him
as a slave? Was it because of his courage to
confess publicly that he was the person who
cohabited and impregnated Tamar?
Certainly, but perhaps there was something
else. It was Yehuda’s declaration in this
week’s parsha, Vayigash, “Because your
servant took responsibility for the lad,” that
more than all demonstrated that the gift of
leadership belonged to this man’s soul.
You see, notwithstanding his unwavering
promise to his father to bring back Binyamin,
Yehuda could have returned without the lad
with a book filled with great excuses. “There
was no way we could have fought the viceroy
of Egypt, the superpower of the world;” “I
know I promised to bring him back, but our
brother decided to steal the silver majestic
goblet from the second to the most powerful
person in the world, so what exactly was I
supposed to do?” Or, “G-d apparently wanted
Binyamin to remain there; after all the
viceroy’s goblet did ‘miraculously’ end up in
Binyamin’s bag;” “being a slave by Egypt’s
viceroy—our brother Shimon can report to
us—is not that bad, he treats his workers with
dignity.” “Yes it’s terrible, but what should I
have done? Self-sacrifice can help you jump
from the roof to the ground, not to jump from
the ground to the roof!”
These are part of the excuses Yehuda could
have given, and he would have been (at least
partially) correct. There is little one can do to
battle reality. They did find the goblet of the
Prime Minister in Binyamin’s bag and Yehuda
was not the culprit.
But Yehuda was a leader. He had it in his
bones to take absolute responsibility for a
situation and never pass the buck to others,

not even to what can be
perceived as “reality.” As
a genuine leader, Yehuda
stood up and proclaimed:
“Because your servant
took responsibility for the
lad!” Yes, I can find many
ways to vindicate myself,
but the job will not get
done. This is not about
me—my innocence or
guilt, my merit or fault; it
is accomplishing the
mission: Binyamin must
return to his father.
And that is what makes a leader.
Excuses vs. Action
Today, too, we desperately need the
leadership that will not only search for causes
but will implement solutions to ensure the
safety of our loved ones and our people.
The most important solution might be a
paradigm shift in our mindsets, habits, and
lifestyles.
From anti-Semitism to mass assimilation we
face many challenges. We live in a generation
when many good excuses have been given for
our bleak demographics and for Jewish
continuity becoming an endangered species.
Many a sociologist has, over the course of the
past half-century, explained some of the
causes for mass assimilation, intermarriage,
ignorance, abuse, dysfunction, apathy, and
strife within families or communities. The
Holocaust, secularism, modernity, failure of
institutionalized religion, anti-Semitism, the
hypocrisy of religious leaders, the monotony
of ritual, trauma of all sorts, and the
extraordinarily successful integration of Jews
into the mainstream of American life. The
walls of the ghetto, physical and conceptual,
have at last crumbled.
As a frequent traveler to Jewish conventions
and retreats around the globe, I am privy to
hearing lectures and workshops analyzing the
unique challenges of our times and the various
crises that threaten our future. They all make
good and sound points.
Yet I also had the privilege of seeing a
“Yehuda,” who a number of years after the
incomprehensible destruction of Auschwitz
and Treblinka, rose and declared: “Your
servant took responsibility for the lad.” I, your
servant, have taken personal responsibility for
the collective Jewish community and for
every individual Jewish lad.
For the following four decades this man, a
biological scion of Yehuda, would not sleep

nor allow anyone else to sleep. Single-
handedly he empowered thousands upon

thousands to stop passing the buck or relieve
their conscience by merely making a
contribution to a noble cause. He inspired
them to take personal responsibility for the
welfare, continuity, and eternity of the Jewish
people. Do not allow “reality,” he always
taught, to decide the future of the Jewish
people. Take responsibility for the lad! Do not
rest until every Jewish child the world over is
given the opportunity to be liberated from
spiritual slavery, from his (or her) subjugation
to forces alien to his essence, and, just like
Binyamin, to be able to return to his father in
heaven.
Each year on this Shabbos when I hear the
words “Your servant took responsibility for
the lad” read aloud from the Torah, my eyes
swell up in tears. In my imagination I still see
my Rebbe, his face aglow, teaching for hours,
but always culminating with this resounding
message:
“You and I must take responsibility for the
lad!” Do not lament, kvetch, sigh and write a
check. Do not organize conferences to analyze
all of the problems. Instead, go out of your
comfort zone and touch the heart of another
person. Build communities, schools, shuls,
and yeshivas. Get involved and make a
difference in people’s lives. Give every Jewish
child the gift of a Torah education. Help
people get in touch with their Jewish souls and
spiritual inheritance. Most of all, care about
the other as though he or she was your own
brother.
“You may have good excuses for your
inaction,” he would always say, and nobody
will blame you.” But the bottom line is that
after all of your rationalization, the child,
Binyamin, will remain enslaved to Egypt and
its culture.
In our times, often leaderless and aimless,
we must make Yehuda’s call our own. “Your
servant took responsibility for the lad.” So
shall we.