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Parsha Vayigash

When to Weep

By Rabbi Heschel GreenbergDecember 12, 20178 min read

Moshiach is not just about restoring the world to its original state; it goes beyond that. Moshiach will introduce a dimension of G-dliness that transcends the order of creation; even the state of affairs that existed in Gan-Eden-the Garden of Eden.

Weeping on Each other’s Necks

The story of Joseph and his brothers is no mere family drama. The twelve sons of Jacob are the founders of the twelve tribes of Israel, and their conflicts and reconciliations, their separations and reunions, sketch many a defining line in the blueprint of Jewish history.

To be sure, these narratives as chronicled in the Torah are to be taken literally. They are accurate accounts of actual historical events. But the Torah is not a history book. Its purpose is to have us apply all of its teachings—the stories along with the legal parts—to our own daily lives.

The same is true of the tearful reunion between Joseph and Benjamin described in this week’s Torah portion Vayigash (Genesis 45:14):

“And [Joseph] fell on the neck of his brother Benjamin and wept, and Benjamin wept on his neck.”

The Talmud interprets their weeping on each other’s neck as expressions of pain and sorrow over future tragedies in their respective histories:

“Joseph wept over the two Sanctuaries that were to stand in the territory of Benjamin and were destined to be destroyed, and Benjamin wept over the Shiloh Sanctuary that was to stand in the territory of Joseph and was destined to be destroyed.”

The Rebbe asks, Why did Joseph and Benjamin weep on each other’s necks, Joseph crying over Benjamin’s two destroyed Sanctuaries and Benjamin over Joseph’s? Were they not distressed by the future breakdown of their own Sanctuaries?

The Function of Weeping

To address this question, the Rebbe states that we must first understand the function of weeping in general. Tears give vent to the feelings of distress and frustration that accompany the knowledge that something is not as it should be. After a “good cry,” a person is somewhat relieved of these feelings, although the situation that brought them on remains unchanged.

Is weeping a positive phenomenon?

The Rebbe provides the answer that it depends on the cause of one’s tears.

When dealing with another’s troubles, weeping over their lot serves to communicate one’s empathy for the other. It expresses the fact that one is utterly heartbroken at the other’s misfortune.

Dealing with one’s own problems, however, is another matter. Instead of venting one’s frustration and easing one’s conscience with tears, one must act, constructively, to change that which ought to be changed, to do that which ought to be done. Don’t cry and feel sorry for yourself; do something about it!

Thus, Joseph and Benjamin allowed themselves to weep over the destruction of each other’s Sanctuaries. Ultimately, only Joseph can repair the destroyed “Sanctuary of Shiloh,” the Josephian dimension of Israel’s relationship with the Amighty; Benjamin can only encourage and assist. After contributing all he could to Joseph’s efforts, Benjamin wept his agony and concern on his brother’s neck. The same applies to Joseph’s weeping over the Bais HaMikdash in the domain of Benjamin. Joseph and Benjamin did not weep over their own destroyed Sanctuaries, because they knew that their task was to act not cry.

Why Cry Now?

In the thousands of years since the destruction of the Second Temple, we have been crying over its destruction.

In light of the Rebbe’s analysis of when crying is in order and when action is preferred we must draw the conclusion that our task today ought to be focused on the constructive.

To be sure, we have designated times to lament the destruction, such as Tisha b’Av and in some communities there are those who recite the Midnight prayer called Tikkun Chatzos where they vent their sadness over its destruction.

The question arises, why should we cry over the destruction of the Temple, since it is our loss as a people and, as stated, when we reflect on our own loss we must act to rebuild rather than wallow in our grief over our loss. Why then do we even have these designated times for mourning the destruction of the Temple?

Homeless Looking for a Home

There is a twofold answer.

First, it is obvious that a person is motivated to build only to the extent that he or she realizes the degree to which one is lacking something without that building. If a person is homeless, for example, he or she will work harder to find a place to live. This is consistent with our Sages’ comment that a person who does not grieve for the destruction of the Temple will not merit to see consolation.

On the surface it seems quite a harsh punishment for not joining our brethren in mourning the loss of our Temple.

Upon deeper reflection, it is not a punishment. Rather, it is a stark assessment of our role in the future rebuilding of the Temple. If we didn’t care about the loss of the Temple, we will obviously not do our part to rebuild it. Consequently, even as the Temple is being rebuilt and its glory restored, the ones who did not care about its absence cannot be said that they will be the rebuilders of the Temple. It is not a punishment, it is a natural consequence.

Multiple Levels of Suffering in Exile

Second, there are two elements and effects of the Temple’s destruction. The first is that we have lost our ability to appear in the Temple; it is therefore our loss. Second, it is also G-d’s loss. The same way we suffer at the loss of our Temple and the ensuing exile, G-d too, our Sages tell us, laments His own exile and the suffering of His children who must endure exile conditions.

Therefore, even as we must do constructive things to rebuild the Temple—by way of our observance of the Mitzvos—we must also designate times to think about G- d’s “pain and suffering,” as it were.

Just as Joseph wept for Benjamin and Benjamin for Joseph, we must weep for the loss of G-d’s Temple and the pain we cause Him by not being ready to rebuild it. While it is true, we cannot be content with shedding a few tears for the destruction; we must act to rebuild it, the action is for our suffering and our role in the process while the prayers and tears are for G-d’s tears and role in the exile.

In addition, we must weep for the loss of the Temple for the rest of Jewry, even as we dedicate our lives to constructive efforts to rebuild it through our dedication to Torah and Mitzvos, inspired by our heartfelt prayers for the coming of Moshiach and the final Redemption.

Why Focused on the Future?

Returning to the Rebbe’s analysis of Joseph and Benjamin’s weeping we can shed more light on an earlier Chassidic explanation of the phenomenon of Joseph and Benjamin crying over each other’s future disaster.

The entire episode calls out for explanation.

First, why were they focusing on the future? Certainly their meeting was a powerful experience in its own right, why did they have to look into the very distant future to find something to cry about?

Second, what benefit did their commiserating about the future have? They couldn’t avert the tragedy of the destruction of the Two Temples as well as the Sanctuary at Shiloh, so why cry about it?

Third, why did they pick this very moment to see into the future? Simply put, one can say that this was their first opportunity to do so. But everything happens by Divine Providence. The fact that at their first meeting they had this prophetic vision and cried over it is an indication that their prophecy and crying was intimately connected to their reunion.

Repairing the Damage

The answer to all of these questions is that their actions as progenitors of the Jewish people was to not necessarily avert the tragedy but to impart to us the way through which we can repair the tragedy.

By demonstrating that the love that Joseph and Benjamin exhibited to each other—to the extent that they cried for the other’s sorrow before their own—is the way to correct the destruction of the Bais Hamikdash and bring about the Redemption and the rebuilding of the Third Bais Hamikdash.

The power to rebuild derived from the actions of Joseph and Benjamin. They had sown the seeds of empathy and love.

A question, however, remains. If their behavior was intended to establish the primacy of unity and love as a force to avert destruction and/or to facilitate the rebuilding of the Temple, why did this even not involve the other brothers? Joseph and Benjamin were never involved in the internecine conflict and there was no need for reconciliation. Isn’t the lesson about repairing broken relationships that stem from sinas chinam-senseless hatred?

The answer is that Moshiach is not just about repairing something that is broken. While we certainly expect Moshiach to do that, Moshiach is much more than just that. Moshiach is not just a repaired world; it is a perfect world.

More than Just Restoration

To repair all that was broken would “simply” put us back to the original state of innocence prior to the eating of the forbidden Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. This sin allowed for compromised life, both physically and spiritually. For thousands of years we are engaged in performing Mitzvos which help to repair the damage step by step.

In the Messianic Age the repair will be completed.

But then what?

Are we going to be content with going back in time to a utopian world without hatred and division?

The answer is no!

To reiterate: Moshiach is not just about restoring the world to its original state; it goes beyond that. Moshiach will introduce a dimension of G-dliness that transcends the order of creation; even the state of affairs that existed in Gan-Eden-the Garden of Eden.

To understand the effects of this new dimension of G-dliness that will pervade the world we must go back to the crying of Joseph and Benjamin on each other’s necks. These brothers had profound love for each other even before this incident. This event demonstrated that we can bring love into love. Love for one another is a mirror refection of love of G-d. And since our appreciation of G-d will grow day by day, so too will our love for Him grow day by day. And, by extension, so will our love for our fellow grow day by day.

Thus Joseph’s and Benjamin’s crying had a double significance. It foreshadowed the destruction of the future and how to repair them and also introduced us to a more advanced state of investing love into a world of love; a more advanced G-dly awareness into an already sophisticated G-dly awareness.

From the book Light from the Future: Parshas Vayigash by Rabbi Heschel Greenberg, published by the Jewish Discovery Center.

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Rabbi Heschel Greenberg Teacher, scholar and author of Tefillin — Judaism’s Crown. About the Rabbi