Imagine you are Yaakov. You spent 20 years away from your parents, due to the threat of your brother. And then you lost your son, the oldest of your beloved wife Rachel. Your other sons told you he was attacked by an animal and killed, and you have no evidence to counter that. It has been over 20 years since that day, and you have little reason to believe he will show up. But one day, your other sons return from Egypt and say that not only is he alive, but the vizier of Egypt!
So naturally, you pack your bags and take your entire family to Egypt. And when you arrive, you see your son, the son you thought was dead, not only alive, but resplendent in the finery of the nobility of Egypt. And when he arrives, he cries on your neck, letting go twenty two years of filial pain and anxiety. At that moment, how would you react?
According to Rashi, at that moment, Yaakov recited the Shema.
This comment by Rashi for two reasons. From the liturgical standpoint, the Shema had not yet been codified in the Torah, and so what does Rashi mean that he recited it? And from a familial standpoint, why didn’t Yaakov cry with his son? Why would Rashi say he was praying?
To answer the second question first, Rashi makes his comment because the text says that Yosef cries, but not that Yaakov cries. If Yaakov had the same reaction as Yosef, we would assume the Torah would tell us.
But we still need to answer the first question – what does Rashi mean that he was saying the Shema? Rabbi Yehuda Amital, the 20th Century Israeli Rabbi, explains that Yaakov was not literally saying the Shema, but recognizing the themes of the Shema in that moment; namely, God’s Oneness and Kingship over the world. He explains: “After all the years of not understanding Yosef’s true fate, after all the suffering and hardship, Ya’akov finally realizes that God’s Hand had been guiding the process all along. He sees God’s great role and Providence, and his first reaction on seeing Yosef is to turn to God in recognition and thanks.”
ADVERTISEMENT
Yaakov doesn’t cry when he sees Yosef not because of any lack of affection, but because in that moment, he truly sees the full picture: that Yosef’s disappearance was all part of the Divine plan. He saw his son fulfill his potential and destiny, and so took that moment to appreciate God’s role.
Our Torah teaches us that both reactions, that of Yosef and that of Yaakov, to emotional moments such as their reunion are legitimate, and neither is mutually exclusive. After all, Yosef recognizes the Divine plan when he reveals himself to his brother, and Yaakov’s emotions act upon him when he first hears that Yosef is alive. The Torah recognizes that we each have different approaches to moments of great emotion, and provides space for everyone to process in their own way and own time.
Rabbi Eliezer Finkelstein serves Bais Abraham Congregation and is a member of the St. Louis Rabbinical and Cantorial Association, which coordinates the d’var Torah for the Jewish Light.
