In 1970 Chaim immigrated to Jerusalem. He applied for a phone in his apartment, but weeks went by without one. Exasperated, he visited the phone company headquarters in the main Post Office in Jerusalem and asked the clerk when his phone would finally be installed.
"Sir," responded the clerk, "Israel has a major shortage of phone lines. There are Government Ministers, Army Generals, and Hospitals ahead of you who are also waiting for phones to become available."
“So you are telling me that I have no hope of getting a phone?" ?"
"Heaven forbid!” said the clerk. As a Jew, I am forbidden to tell you that there is no hope.
“There is always hope.”
Excited, Chaim repeated, "There is hope, "There is hope!"
"Yes," explained the clerk, "there is always hope, just no likelihood."
In this week's Torah portion Vayeshev The drama is unfolding. The brothers of Joseph cast him into a pit and then sold him as a slave 21 years earlier. A devastating famine in their region compels them to descend into Egypt, where there is plenty of grain. They come face to face with their long-lost brother, who has since risen to become Prime Minister of Egypt. Joseph accuses them of espionage and imprisons all ten of them for three days. Finally, he offers them to return home, but for one brother who must remain in prison, until they do not return to Egypt with their baby brother, Benjamin, to demonstrate their innocence.
It is at this point, the ten brothers recall the events of two decades ago. And they said to one another, "Indeed, we are guilty for our brother, for we witnessed the distress of his soul when he begged us, and we did not listen. That is why this trouble has come upon us."
What is most surprising is the response of the older brother Reuven to them: "Didn't I tell you, saying, 'Do not sin against the child,' but you did not listen! Behold, his blood, too, is being demanded!"
What’s his point? It is almost like the couple driving to a wedding. It’s a long trip to another state, and on the road, in the middle of nowhere, they get a flat tire. The husband turns to his wife: “It is my fault; I am so irresponsible. Before we left I saw the tire was low; I should have it checked out! I think I have learned my lesson. I am guilty of this headache.” And all his wife can say to him at that moment is: “I told you so! Before we left I told you to go to the gas station, but you never listen. Now you are paying for your stubbornness!”
To quote the expression of the Rebbe when he asked this question: Why is Reuven “pouring salt on their wounds?!” They are broken, crushed, and introspective. And his only response to them is: Aha! I told you so all along! Now you see I was right, and you were wrong.
The Rebbe offered a beautiful answer. Reuven was not trying to hurt them more, or trying to show how right he was all along. This would not be the time and place for it. Rather, Reuven was pointing out to them how their remorse is still superficial and shallow. He was challenging them to go deeper into themselves. He was teaching all of us how to redefine our relationship with our selves, with our spouses, with our children, with our G-d, and with our people. He was also teaching us the essence of Chanukah—and the different ways in which we can get involved in outreach.
Do you see what they are saying? “That is why this trouble has come upon us." The brothers of Joseph are searching for a reason why this is happening to them. What have they done wrong? Where did they go wrong? What is G-d trying to tell them? They search into their behaviors for the last 21 years and then they realize: It must have been their mistreatment of Joseph.
So Reuven tells them: No, you guys got it wrong. And Reuben answered them, saying, "Didn't I tell you, saying, 'Do not sin against the child,' but you did not listen! Behold, his blood, too, is being demanded!"
Reuven says, the issue here is not your predicament; it is the pain you caused this child. It is not about you; it is about him. I told it to you then, and you did not get it. And today, you still did not get it.
Here, again, let me present a marriage example. A husband has not been that faithful to his wife. The wife goes into his phone, she starts reading the text messages, and she catches him. They go into therapy. The therapist turns to the husband and asks him what he is planning to do?
The husband: I made a bad mistake. I am guilty.
Therapist: What was the mistake? Why do you feel so terrible? The husband responds: Well, I see how upset my wife is. And I know it can destroy our marriage. So I will stop all of this.
Sounds good to him. He is shocked to see that his wife is in tears. “He just does not get it.” Why?
Because, yes, he feels bad, because he was caught, and he does not want his marriage to terminate. His wife wants him to be disturbed by the very sin, not by the consequences. Even if you were never caught, your loyalty and deep relationship with your spouse should make you feel horrible about this.
And Reuben answered them, saying, "Didn't I tell you, saying, 'Do not sin against the child!'” They are saying: We feel so much pain. We are prisoners in Egypt. We are being tormented. It must be that we have sinned against our brother. Reuven says: You are still clueless. Forget your pain! Can you feel the pain that you caused your brother? Can you appreciate HIS experience, not only how his experience impacted you?
There are two paths to repentance. One is am remorseful because of what my deeds have done to me. That is a significant step in the right direction, but it is relatively still egocentric and primitive. There is a deeper form of repentance: I am remorseful because I realize what I did to you. I feel your pain, your agony, your distress, and that moves me to reinvent myself, apologize, and begin a new chapter in my life.
A father and his teenager come to see me. They are not getting along. The teen-ager says: I have no father. My father does not care about me; he only cares about himself and his “nachat.” I am another part of his puzzle. The way he treated me, the decisions he made for me, were so abusive and absurd, completely ignoring who I am as a person.
The father says: I must have made mistakes. And I am sorry. I will change my ways in the future.
Sounds amazing. But somehow his son is not moved. Not because of a trauma wound, but because there is still no trust. Does the father feel the pain of his child, or is he responding to his own pain over the fact that his child cut him off? Is it your pain you feel, or your son’s pain you feel?
With this explanation, the Rebbe explained an enigmatic story.
One year, on the morning after Yom Kippur, the sixth Rebbe went into this father, the Rebbe Rashab and he asked: What now?
Meaning, what should be my focus now, that Yom Kippur is over?
His father replied:
Now, you must begin to repent!
This seems very strange. Yom Kippur is the day of forgiveness. All is forgiven. Why do I need to repent after Yom Kippur?
Because sometimes I can repent, and repent sincerely, but I still don’t really get it. I am trying to escape my pain, my agony, or my fears. After I go through a Yom Kippur, now I can graduate to the next level: I can actually repent for what I have done; because I feel the pain I caused you. And this is an entirely different experience.
Chanukah begins tonight. Most Jews living at the time acquiesced to the Hellenist agenda. You can’t fight “city hall,” and of course not a tyrant like Antiyaches, the Syrian-Greek ruler. The Jews surrendered and within a few generations, there would have been no trace left of Jews or of Judaism.
Nobody would have felt guilty because they were not. They did the best they can under the circumstances.
What saved the day during the Chanukah period, and what will save the day today again, is people who are attentive to the cry of Reuven: “Do not sin against the child”! They do not think about their guilt; they think about the child. That is what drove the Maccabees to stage a revolt against the Syrian Greeks. They cared for the final result, not for their own spiritual security. They could not watch Judaism and the Jewish people go down—and they stood up. And they won!
Today, we are empowered and summoned to answer the question: Do we know how to tune-in to the heart of another human being in pain? Do I know how to actually try to see and experience, if even only a little bit, what you are going through?
Because, friends, that makes all the difference.
Shabbat Shalom and a Happy Chanukah,
Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky
Tom Peacock wrote...