Bereshit 44:18 – 47:27
Haftarah: Yejezqel 37:15–28
This week we study the parashah “wayigash” – “And he approached.”
The Torah shows us Yehudah taking a decisive step: he approaches the powerful viceroy of Egypt—without knowing he is his own brother Yosef—and offers himself as a slave in place of Binyamin. This moment is the turning point of Yosef’s entire story. The same brother who years earlier took part in selling him is now willing to sacrifice himself so as not to cause pain to his father. Here we see what teshubah truly means: not only feeling regret for the past, but acting differently when the same situation appears again.
Moved by Yehudah’s words, Yosef can no longer hold back. He reveals himself to his brothers in tears, embraces them, and forgives them. The broken family begins to rebuild. Yet this reconciliation does not take place in the Promised Land, but in Egypt, the place of exile. This raises a question: Why is the unity of the children of Israel born in a context of galut, far from their ancestral land? The answer is deep: sometimes Hashem allows us to descend into “Egypt”—into uncomfortable or difficult situations—to strip away our pride, show us how much we need each other, and teach us to put brotherhood above ego.
Later, Yaaqob goes down to Egypt, is reunited with Yosef, and the family settles in Goshen. There, in a foreign land, the people begin to form who will later leave with a mighty hand. We learn not to confuse comfort with blessing or difficulty with divine abandonment. The Presence of the Shekhinah accompanies Yaaqob outside the land, teaching us that closeness to Hashem is measured more by the quality of our relationships and our faithfulness than by geography.
The haftarah from Ezekiel returns to the theme of unity between the brothers on a national scale: the prophet takes two sticks, one for Yehudah and one for Yosef, and joins them into a single stick in his hand. It is the promise that, at the end of days, the inner divisions of the people will be healed and there will be one king, one people, and one heart serving the Eternal. Thus we understand that every gesture of drawing closer—every “wayigash” between siblings, friends, or members of the community—is a small preparation for that final unity.
May this perashah inspire us to take the first step in our own ruptures, to ask forgiveness when necessary, to protect our “Binyamins,” and to build bridges even in the midst of personal exile. In this way, like Yosef and his brothers, we can transform our stories of pain into stories of reconciliation and into a vehicle for the Divine Presence to dwell among us.
Rabbi Netanel Gil