Two Minute Torah Podcast

Vayigash 5771 by Rabbi Barry Dov Katz

When a stranger walks into a room, we whisper to the person next to us: Who's that? In a collection of short stories entitled "Identifying the Stranger," author E. Annie Proulx describes our "innate curiosity to know what blood, clan, country, street, mental, emotional, or psychological predilection claims the Unknown One in our midst." It is true. Whether in literature of life, we all want to know, "Who is that?" And it is so very satisfying when the mask is removed.

This week's Torah reading rides on this tension. Jacob's sons stand before their brother Joseph but they do not know his identity. They know very little about the man except that he seems capricious and a little too interested in hearing about their father and younger brother. The tension builds for the brothers and for the man. Finally, he cannot hold back. He dismisses his Egyptian servants. He weeps and declares: I am Joseph-Ani Yosef. It is a startling admission. I know that Joseph will say it, but each time I read the story I am struck by how these few words change the mood of the scene and the direction of the story.

How do these words accomplish so much?

The Chafetz Chaim was a scholar whose mind was trained to focus on the weight and importance of the things we say. Here, the Chafetz Chaim turns his attention to the brother's state of mind and the weight of Joseph's admission. He explains:

From the moment the brothers first arrived to buy food in Egypt, and Joseph acted strangely to them, accusing them of being spies, they wondered what was going on. But the minute they heard the two Hebrew words, Ani Yosef all surprise and doubt vanished.

But revelation does not just assuage the doubts of those of us on the outside waiting for clarity; it affects the character who reveals himself as well.

For Joseph, exposing his identity after taking so much effort to conceal it is dangerous. When he asserts his connection to the penniless strangers from Canaan, he risks so much: His status among the Egyptians. Part of the psychological edge over the brothers. The emotional armor which has allowed him to recreate himself in Egypt, to go from favorite son-hated brother to powerful ruler.

In reading this story, I sometimes get the feeling that Joseph was as surprised by his announcement as were the brothers. I... am... Joseph! I imagine him revisiting this moment again and again, wondering what made him say those words. Was it the repeated mention of their aged father? Was it the look of desperation on his brother Judah's face, somehow reminding him of his times of desperation? Was it a desire to be human again- to be done with the secrets?

It can be overwhelming to realize your true identity.

Think about a time in your life when a declaration changed everything, when you realized something important about who you are:

When you told your parents that you would not follow the path they imagined...

When you admitted something that you kept buried for many years...

When you suddenly said: I love you.

The emotions that can accompany these revelations surprise us and force us to acknowledge that the world can never be the same after certain words are uttered.

Joseph always let himself be defined and limited by others: Joseph- the spoiled brother. Joseph the dreamer. Joseph, Dad's favorite. Tzafnat Paneach, Pharoah's second in command.But for this moment he simply says, "I am Joseph." This is his declaration of independence. Joseph's declaration brings the brother's speculation to a close. It makes him vulnerable. It represents an important step in his maturation as a sibling and as a leader. He challenges his brothers by saying: Here's who I am--- Who are you?

We all need a place in this world where we can ask and wonder and say, "This is who I am," a place where our declaration will be welcomed and our questions embraced.