Judah’s Redemption: Vayigash.25
By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman
January 2, 2025
In classical music there’s a form called “sonata-allegro,” a structure consisting of three parts: exposition, development and recapitulation (aka “recap”). Motifs and melodies are presented in the first part, worked out in the second, and finally restated—often with greater emotional impact—in the third. Definitively set and expanded by 18th and 19th composers such as Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven, this form is still frequently used today, though evidence of much earlier use—in literature if not necessarily in music—can possibly be discerned in the story of Joseph and his Brothers, consisting of chapters 37-50 in the first book of the Torah, Genesis.
By now most of us are familiar with the story. Joseph is set apart from—and above—his brothers by their father, Jacob. Presented with extra privileges (and an expensive robe that signifies power and authority) Joseph grows to be hated by his brothers. The fault doesn’t only lie in Jacob’s preferential treatment of Joseph; Joseph himself is filled with visions of power which he doesn’t bother to hide, and he is both a braggart and a tattler. The opportunity for comeuppance arrives one day when Jacob sends Joseph out to inquire about the brothers’ welfare—they had wandered far off from home in tending the flocks. Seeing the boy from afar (and undoubtedly recognizing his splendid coat) they decide to kill him while laying the blame on a wild animal. Joseph is spared only by the opportune arrival of a caravan of Midianite traders who buy him for the paltry sum of 20 pieces of silver.
End exposition.
Joseph is sold to a powerful man in Egypt and—as usual—finds success in everything he does. However, about two years into his servitude he is unjustly accused of attempted rape (of his master’s wife no less!) and is thrown into a dungeon. But even there he is successful, interpreting the dreams and correctly predicting the fate of two fellow prisoners, Pharaoh’s chief baker and the chief cupbearer. Later he is called upon to interpret disturbing dreams Pharaoh himself has had, and is raised to the position of viceroy of all Egypt. As a terrible famine spreads all over the world, Joseph’s brothers—among others—come to purchase food from the storehouses that Joseph had filled with provisions during the seven years of plenty. They don’t recognize him, but Joseph has perhaps been on the lookout for them, and he definitely recognizes them. With so much power over his brothers—the fulfillment of his dreams—Joseph debates within himself their fate, and decides to test them to see whether they feel any remorse for their past actions.
End of development.
The recap comes in this week’s Torah portion, Va-Yigash (“[Judah] drew near,” Genesis 44:18—47:27). In music, the sonata-allegro form is more than just structure. The form is used to convey both story line and emotions. And so it is with the story of Joseph and his Brothers. That is certainly true for Joseph himself, who shows growth and maturity as he falls from grace and then rises again. But it is even more so for Judah. Throughout the story, we watch Judah’s character evolve from villain to hero. It was Judah, after all, who suggested that Joseph be sold to the Midianites, along with a cynical show of compassion: “After all, he is our brother, our own flesh and blood” (Gen. 37:27). However, in the intervening 20 years or so (there is some disagreement in the sources about the exact number of years), Judah has come to understand the extent of his wrongdoing. From the lesson taught him by his daughter-in-law, Tamar, he has learned about responsibility and keeping promises. With the deaths of two of his sons, Er and Onan, he learns about loss and grief. And true compassion finally is awakened within him as he realizes that all he has left is his last surviving son, Shela, who, at the telling of the story, is yet a young child.
At this point in the story, all these life-lessons come together to motivate Judah to step up to Joseph and retell almost the entire story (though leaving out a few salient facts about his own role in it; presumably the shame and guilt he must be feeling are too great and personal to share). As Joseph listens, one can almost sense the turbulence in his heart. Waves of memories flood Joseph, filling him with complex emotions—self-pity, anger, perhaps even hatred, and a burning desire for vengeance.
And yet one other emotion rises unexpectedly and overcomes all the negative feelings, one Joseph had long suppressed: love.
Key to Judah’s confession is his reference to Jacob as “father,” 14 times in 16 verses. In the first five of these he uses the term objectively: “A father” and “his father.” Then nine times more, perhaps reflecting, even at this extreme moment, Judah’s deepening grasp of the grief he had caused Jacob, Judah refers to Jacob in a more personal way: “Our father” and, ultimately, “my father.”
The emotional buildup suggested by these verses overcomes Joseph—and the reader of the story as well. Yet Joseph is able to hold back his tears until he hears Judah’s last cry of anguish: “For how can I go up to my father if the boy is not with me? Let me not witness the calamity that would befall my father!” (Gen. 44:34, translation adapted from Chabad website https://www.chabad.org/parshah/torahreading.asp?aid=2492540&tdate=01-04-2025&p=complete&jewish=Vayigash-Torah-Reading.htm). It is this outcry that finally convinces Joseph. That, after all, was the farthest thought in Judah’s mind when he suggested selling Joseph into slavery. Judah’s transformation is now complete, and he is ready to assume the new position and role God—and history—hold out for him.
There will be an epilogue to this story (a “coda” to use the musical term), but that is part of next week’s portion, the last in the book of Genesis.
© 2025 by Boaz D. Heilman
