Parashat Vayigash – The Whisper of Reconciliation

 Parashat Vayigash – The Whisper of Reconciliation 

Rabbi Ari Kahn

Readers of Parashat Vayigash bring with them a powerful image. Yehuda, the future king, strides forward to confront the mysterious Egyptian ruler, and the room shakes. Midrashim describe his voice shattering walls; Egypt itself trembles at his roar. It is an intoxicating picture of Jewish strength, with Yehuda cast as a lion ready to bring the empire down upon itself.

Yet when the text is read closely, the sound in the throne room is not a roar but a whisper. The Torah’s own language is far quieter, more intimate, and far more difficult. It describes not a declaration of war, but a plea for compassion. The parasha invites us to listen again, more carefully, and to distinguish between what the verses say, what the rabbis may read between the lines, and what later fantasies – even holy fantasies – have added.

The Midrashic portrait of Yehuda in Vayigash is familiar and beloved. Bereishit Rabbah records that when Yehuda steps forward, he is seized with anger; he roars and his voice travels four parasangs until Chushim ben Dan hears it in Eretz Yisrael, despite being deaf. Dan, later described by Moshe as “דן גור אריה,” joins him in the Midrashic imagination; two lions, Yehuda and Dan, stand against Egypt. Egypt is on the verge of collapse because Yehuda is enraged.[1]

Hadar Zekenim cites a Targum-Yerushalmi phrase:– Yehuda approaches strong and rising like a lion. Until this point, we have not yet heard Yehuda called a lion in the Torah; that title will come in Yaakov’s blessings. The Midrash, however, cannot wait. It reads the future into the present and places the lion’s mane upon Yehuda’s head already here.[2]

Rashi, summarizing Chazal on the phrase “al yichar apecha be’avdecha, - Let not your anger flare against your servant”, explains that Yehuda speaks harsh words and therefore must preface his speech with a request that Yosef not become angry, because his manner of address is itself provocative. The dramatic midrashim collected by the Ba’alei haTosafot depict Yehuda threatening that if Yosef obstructs him, he will overturn Egypt, destroy the palace, and bring everything crashing down.[3]

This imaginative reconstruction is not random. Chazal consistently read Yehuda through the prism of kingship. Yaakov will soon bless Yehuda with royal destiny; David, and ultimately Mashiach ben David, emerge from his line. If there is a king in the room, it must be Yehuda, not the arrogant Egyptian official before him. Midrash therefore casts Yehuda as the true sovereign, asserting his authority before a pretender. It is a theologically satisfying inversion: the Jew, not the Egyptian, is the real king.

There is only one difficulty. As peshat, it does not fit the words the Torah actually uses.

Bereishit Rabbah[4], in more than one place, builds a typology around the word vayigash. On our verse, “vayigash elav Yehudah,” it cites three interpretations:
– Rabbi Yehuda: an approach for war (higashah le-milchamah).
– Rabbi Nechemiah: an approach for appeasement (le-piyus).
– The Sages: an approach for prayer (le-tefillah).

The Midrash then applies the same threefold scheme to another vayigash: Avraham’s approach to God before pleading for Sodom, “vayigash Avraham va-yomer, ha-af tispeh tzaddik im rasha.” There, too, the Midrash suggests readings of war, appeasement, and prayer. With all respect to Rabbi Yehuda, who perhaps naturally identifies with Yehuda’s name and role, it is difficult to imagine Avraham going to war against God. Piyus and tefillah—persuasion and prayer—lie much closer to the simple reading in that context.[5]

Rav Yosef b. Zvi Duchas (1792–1846), in his Beit Yosef Lehavah, reflecting on these sources, notes that although Bereishit Rabbah lists three opinions, it is possible to say that Yehudah, in fact, encompassed all three: we find approaches for prayer, for appeasement, and for war, and Yehudah entered into all of them (just as Yaakov had done before his meeting with his brother Esav). He approached ready for war if necessary, but his primary mode was appeasement, framed within a kind of prayer.

This synthesis is elegant on the level of derash, but still leaves the peshat question unresolved. The Midrash has taught us to hear certain homiletical overtones in vayigash, but it has not yet explained what Yehuda actually does in the narrative, nor how he speaks. For that, we must listen to the words themselves.

The Netziv, Rav Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin, in Ha’amek Davar, insists on precisely this point. On the phrase “vayigash elav Yehudah,” he writes that this “vayigash” has not yet been explained on the level of peshat. He is well aware of the derashot and cites the tripartite Midrash, but he insists that derash is one thing and peshat is another.

His first move is simple but decisive: vayigash means that Yehudah came closer. Yosef, standing as viceroy—whatever that foreign word may have meant in our childhood imaginations—could hear perfectly well from his seat on the dais. There was no practical need for Yehudah to reduce the physical distance. The approach, therefore, is not about audibility but about something else: the manner and context in which he wishes to speak.

The Netziv asks: why does Yehudah want to be close? His answer is that Yehudah wishes to speak in such a way that others will not hear. This is what the verse itself stresses: “Let your servant please speak a word in the ears of my lord.” He steps forward not to shout more loudly but to lower his voice. The content will soon confirm this reading. [6]

At this point, it is worth recalling that the Netziv, the Ramban[7], and Rav Avraham ben HaRambam all knew something about speaking before rulers.[8] Ramban famously stood before the king of Aragon in the Disputation of Barcelona; the Netziv, as Rosh Yeshiva of Volozhin, had what we would call “regime experience,” dealing with czarist authorities. Both insist that one does not address kings by banging on tables and screaming. One speaks softly, deferentially, and with tremendous care.

Yehudah’s own words justify the Netziv’s intuition. He begins, “Bi adoni”—“Please, my lord”—a phrase of humility and entreaty. He continues, “Let your servant please speak a word in the ears of my lord; let not your anger flare against your servant, for you are as Pharaoh.” Every term underscores deference: “your servant,” “my lord,” “let not your anger flare,” “you are as Pharaoh.” This is carefully calibrated courtly speech.

Even more telling is the content. Yehudah conducts no cross-examination. He does not question the steward’s search, the cup’s appearance, or the fairness of the proposed sentence. He does not accuse the palace of planting evidence. He says nothing about theft. The entire speech, almost from beginning to end, is about Yaakov:

– Yaakov’s age and frailty.
– Yaakov’s love for Binyamin, whose soul is “bound up with his soul.”
– The history of how Binyamin came to accompany them, against Yaakov’s initial reluctance.
– The certainty that Yaakov will die from grief if Binyamin does not return.

Only at the end does Yehudah turn the focus onto himself: “Now, therefore, please let your servant remain instead of the lad as a slave to my lord.” (44:33) He offers his own body in place of Binyamin’s. The logic is not juridical; it is emotional and moral.

If this is the content, what must be the tone? One does not scream, “Have compassion on my old father!” The speech’s effectiveness depends, in fact, upon the manner of its delivery. As advertising theorists sometimes put it, the medium is part of the message. Here, too, the whisper is not merely a detail; it is the mode through which compassion can be elicited.

The Torah signals this through small textual cues. Yehudah speaks “in the ears” of Yosef—directly to him. It is, a sidebar, an aside to the formal proceedings. He does not challenge the legal framework; he asks for an exception based on human feeling. Such a request can only succeed if it is delivered with humility and gentleness.

None of this is meant to negate the Midrashim. The image of Yehuda as roaring lion, of two lions (Yehuda and Dan) shaking Egypt, has its own inner truth. It speaks to the hidden power of Israel, even in exile, and to the future kingship that will emerge from Yehuda’s line. The fantasy of Jewish power is not merely escapist; it is anchored in promises yet to be fulfilled.

But as the Netziv reminds us, one must learn to distinguish between drash and peshat. The Midrash may use hyperbolic language – Yehuda’s voice traveling four parasangs, Chushim hearing in Eretz Yisrael – to make a theological point. Peshat is asking a different question: what is actually happening in the room?

On that level, the scene is not one of noise but of quiet. Yehuda approaches, not to make himself heard over the crowd, but to make sure that only Yosef hears him. He is frightened, aware of the danger, and yet determined to do what he can. He speaks not as a conqueror but as a son on behalf of a father.

At this stage, the question can be posed more sharply: if Yehuda is threatening to tear down Egypt, why does he simultaneously volunteer to remain as a slave? A man who says, in effect, “Say one more word and I will bring the whole place down” does not then offer, “Take me as your servant forever.” The two postures are incoherent when fused into a single psychological profile. The peshat of the speech – its content and its internal logic – aligns with the whisper, not with the roar.

Once Yehuda’s tone is heard as a whisper, another aspect of the narrative comes into sharper focus: the bizarre negotiations that precede his speech. From a rational standpoint, the brothers’ responses to the accusation of theft make little sense. From a psychological and theological standpoint, they make too much sense.

When the steward overtakes them and accuses them of stealing the goblet, the brothers reply with a sweeping declaration: “With whomever of your servants it is found, he shall die, and we also shall be slaves to my lord.” (44:9)

On the surface, this is a catastrophic overreaction. The intelligent response would have been: “If you think something is in our bags, your palace has a problem. Last time we left Egypt, we found items in our bags that we did not put there. We cannot accept responsibility for what appears by your hand.” Instead, they propose death and slavery.

This reaction echoes an earlier scene. When Lavan pursues Yaakov and accuses him of stealing the terafim, Yaakov responds: “With whomever you find your gods, he shall not live.”(31:32) Under pressure, Yaakov uttered a curse that would tragically find its mark in Rachel. Here, under similar pressure, his sons instinctively fall into the same pattern; they speak, as it were, in their father’s voice.

But beyond intertextual echoes, something deeper is at work. These men have been carrying guilt for years. Ever since they cast Yosef into the pit, sat down to eat bread while he cried out, and then sold him to Ishmaelite traders, they have lived with a crime that has never been fully acknowledged or atoned for. The descent to Egypt has reawakened that guilt at every turn: the imprisonment of Shimon, the mysterious money found in their sacks, the demand to bring Binyamin. Each step in the Egyptian “plot” recapitulates elements of the sale of Yosef.

It is not an accident that when they left Yosef years ago, they did so with money in hand and a brother left behind. Now, once again, they leave with money in their possession and a brother, Shimon, in prison. Yosef, whether consciously or as an instrument of providence, forces them to revisit the scene of the crime. The language of Crime and Punishment is apt here: there are people who want their punishment, who subconsciously steer themselves toward judgment in order to escape the unbearable burden of unpunished guilt.

In that light, their rash offer—death for the guilty party, slavery for all—is not merely foolish but revelatory. It is as if they are saying: “We know we deserve something like this.” When the steward replies more moderately—“The one with whom it is found shall be my slave, and you shall be innocent”—their internal script is disrupted.

Matters become more strained when the cup is found in Binyamin’s bag. Of all the brothers, Binyamin is the one unquestionably innocent of the sale of Yosef. To enslave him alone would mean that the innocent bears the punishment while the guilty go free. The viceroy’s legal proposal is thus, from their perspective, intolerable. Unsurprisingly, they tear their garments and all return to the city together.

Here the Netziv introduces a legal dimension. In Ha’amek Davar, he suggests that the brothers’ initial stipulation—death for the thief, slavery for the rest—reflects an assumption about royal law: anyone who steals from a king is guilty of a capital offense. Theft from Pharaoh’s court is tantamount to treason. The steward’s counter-offer, sparing the lives of the others, is a mitigation of that expected severity.[9]

Later, when Yehudah proposes to remain in place of Binyamin, the Netziv sees him as asking Yosef to transcend even that moderated norm. Yehudah’s argument, “For you are like Pharaoh,” acknowledges Yosef’s quasi-royal authority. As such, Yosef is not bound by strict legal convention; like a king, he can create a new arrangement and accept a willing substitute.

The halakhic terminology—din melech, penalties for theft from the crown, the scope of royal prerogative—enriches the scene. But even here, it rests upon the psychological and moral foundation. The brothers’ readiness to enslave themselves is driven less by precise legal reasoning and more by an instinct that punishment is overdue. What makes Yosef’s proposal unbearable is not its departure from Egyptian precedent, but the fact that it singles out the one brother who did nothing wrong in the original sin.

It is precisely in this context that Yehudah’s whisper acquires its full force. He is not merely bargaining over property or protocol; he is trying, in some measure, to redirect the moral calculus so that punishment falls where it belongs. Without naming the sale of Yosef, he implicitly accepts responsibility and offers himself.

If Yehuda now knows how to speak softly in a moment of severe conflict, where did he learn this mode of speech? The Kli Yakar notices a subtle detail earlier in the narrative and builds upon it.

When Yosef commands his steward to pursue the brothers and confront them about the missing goblet, the steward might have acted in a manner befitting an Egyptian official dealing with foreign suspects: shouting from a distance, humiliating them publicly, threatening immediate violence. Instead, as the Kli Yakar reads the verses, he approaches them and speaks without spectacle. The tone is measured rather than mocking.

On this basis, the Kli Yakar suggests an “action and reaction” dynamic. Yehuda, observing how the steward spoke, learns from him how one approaches power when one disagrees, how to protest respectfully without inflaming the ruler’s anger. Even if this Midrashic insight is not compelled by the simple reading, it is suggestive: Yosef’s own emissary models a certain royal etiquette, and Yehuda internalizes it.[10]

Another formative scene is the shared meal. Yosef seats the brothers according to their birth order, feeds them generously, and sends extra portions to Binyamin. The text notes that they “drank and became intoxicated with him”. This is not merely a detail about hospitality; it signals a lowering of defenses. Anxiety, at least for a time, recedes. There is a sense—however fragile—of camaraderie.

It may be that this meal is one of the only times all twelve brothers sit together at one table since Yosef’s youth. Chazal imagine all twelve surrounding Yaakov’s bed as he blesses them; but prior to that final gathering, this Egyptian banquet may be unique. If so, it is a moment in which the past’s fractures are, if not healed, at least momentarily suspended. Shared food and shared cups have a way of creating bonds, even when secrets still lurk beneath the surface.

From these elements, one can trace a pattern. Yosef, through his steward and through the meal, creates conditions in which the brothers taste a different kind of power: not sheer domination but controlled generosity. They discover that this ruler can be gracious. When the crisis over the cup breaks, Yehuda responds not with the raised voice of rebellion, but with the softened voice of a man who dares to hope that compassion may yet be found behind the Egyptian façade.

In this sense, action and reaction are woven into the very structure of the narrative. Yosef’s way of exercising power teaches Yehuda a new language. Yehuda’s whisper, in turn, will evoke from Yosef a response of extraordinary tenderness. The whisper is not only a strategy; it is a learned mode of encounter.

Parashat Vayigash contains, as noted, a second critical use of the root for “drawing near.” After Yehudah’s speech reaches its climax—“How can I go up to my father if the boy is not with me?”(44:34)—the Torah records Yosef’s reaction: he can no longer restrain himself, he raises his voice in weeping, orders everyone but his brothers out of the room, and reveals himself: “I am Yosef. Is my father still alive?” (45:3)

The brothers are stunned. The man who has held their fate in his hands—who has imprisoned them, accused them, and played an inscrutable game with them—now announces himself as the brother they betrayed. Their fear is not rhetorical; it is existential.

It is at this moment that the second “vayigash” appears:

בראשית פרק מה פסוק ד (פרשת ויגש)

(ד) וַיֹּ֨אמֶר יוֹסֵ֧ף אֶל־אֶחָ֛יו גְּשׁוּ־נָ֥א אֵלַ֖י וַיִּגָּ֑שׁוּ …

 Yosef says to his brothers, “Please, come near to me,” and they come near…

Here too, we must ask: what is the tone? If Yosef’s “Come near to me” is uttered as the bark of a ruler—“Come here!”—we would expect the brothers to remain paralyzed or even to shrink back. Instead, they come closer. Fear gives way to movement. The only way to make sense of this shift is to hear his words as an invitation rather than a command, voiced with warmth and reassurance.

Yosef continues:

בראשית פרק מה פסוק ד (פרשת ויגש)

         …וַיֹּ֗אמֶר אֲנִי֙ יוֹסֵ֣ף אֲחִיכֶ֔ם אֲשֶׁר־מְכַרְתֶּ֥ם אֹתִ֖י מִצְרָֽיְמָה:

 “I am Yosef your brother, whom you sold into Egypt.” 

The phrase “your brother” redefines the relationship. He does not speak as a viceroy addressing criminals, but as a brother addressing brothers. He acknowledges the sale directly—“whom you sold”—but immediately reframes it in terms of divine providence: “Now, it was not you who sent me here, but God.”

The Targum, which rendered Yehudah’s “vayigash elav” with a term of kerivah, “drawing close,” does the same here. Both verses are thus linked semantically in the Aramaic: in each case, one party calls the other closer. The first is Yehudah approaching the hidden Yosef; the second is Yosef inviting his brothers. Both are gestures of reconciliation.[11]

We emphasized that our attachment to the Midrashic roaring Yehudah has, at times, blinded us to the parallel between these two vayigash moments. We have so enjoyed the fantasy of Yehudah as conqueror that we have not noticed the more demanding reading: both approaches are, in truth, whispers of reconciliation. Yehudah speaks softly on behalf of his father. Yosef speaks softly on behalf of a family that must somehow be reconstituted.

At this point, a pedagogic question arises. When we tell this story—whether to children, students, congregations, or even for ourselves—what do we want to hear in it? There is room, certainly, for the Midrashic lion. But perhaps we must also ensure that we hear the whisper: the possibility that the first step out of hatred is not a display of power but a quiet, vulnerable “Come closer.”

The narrative arc of nearness reaches its culmination in a third use of the root for “drawing close,” this time as a place name. After revealing himself and explaining the divine purpose behind his descent, Yosef sends his brothers back to Canaan with a message for Yaakov:

בראשית פרק מה פסוק ט - י (פרשת ויגש)

(ט) מַהֲרוּ֘ וַעֲל֣וּ אֶל־אָבִי֒ וַאֲמַרְתֶּ֣ם אֵלָ֗יו כֹּ֤ה אָמַר֙ בִּנְךָ֣ יוֹסֵ֔ף שָׂמַ֧נִי אֱלֹהִ֛ים לְאָד֖וֹן לְכָל־מִצְרָ֑יִם רְדָ֥ה אֵלַ֖י אַֽל־תַּעֲמֹֽד: (י) וְיָשַׁבְתָּ֣ בְאֶֽרֶץ־גֹּ֗שֶׁן וְהָיִ֤יתָ קָרוֹב֙ אֵלַ֔י אַתָּ֕ה וּבָנֶ֖יךָ וּבְנֵ֣י בָנֶ֑יךָ וְצֹאנְךָ֥ וּבְקָרְךָ֖ וְכָל־אֲשֶׁר־לָֽךְ:

“Hurry and go up to my father… come down to me, do not delay. You shall dwell in the land of Goshen, and you shall be near to me.” (45:9,10)

Goshen is described immediately in terms of kirvah—closeness: “You shall be near to me.” Yosef promises sustenance and protection:

בראשית פרק מה פסוק יא (פרשת ויגש)

(יא) וְכִלְכַּלְתִּ֤י אֹֽתְךָ֙ שָׁ֔ם…

 “I will provide for you there.”  (4:11)

Goshen thus becomes more than a convenient district; it is the geography of reconciliation, the space in which father and son, long separated, can dwell near one another in exile.

Pirkei de-Rabbi Eliezer returns us to an earlier chapter in Sefer Bereishit to deepen this symbol. When Avram descends to Egypt because of famine and Sarah is taken into Pharaoh’s house, God strikes Pharaoh and his household with great plagues “on account of Sarai, the wife of Avram.” According to that Midrash, Pharaoh responds not only by returning Sarah and showering Avraham with wealth, but by writing a ketubbah for her. In that document, he grants her all his property—and specifically the land of Goshen—as a holding. Goshen, in this reading, becomes part of Sarah’s marriage settlement.[12]

The Midrash thereby forges a line from Avraham and Sarah’s sojourn in Egypt to Yaakov’s. The plague-stricken Pharaoh of Avraham’s day is a prototype for the Pharaoh of Moshe’s generation; the plagues visit the Egyptian ruler twice, once for Sarah and once for Israel. Similarly, Goshen, granted to Sarah in her ketubbah, becomes the natural place for her descendants to settle when famine again drives them to Egypt. The Torah is not merely recording coordinates; it is tracing the unfolding of an earlier promise.

A further Midrashic note sharpens the symbolism. Pirkei de-Rabbi Eliezer describes Goshen as the “border of Egypt.”[13] Commentators struggle: is Goshen within Egyptian territory or on the edge of Eretz Yisrael? Some suggest that precisely its borderland status is the point. Goshen is the seam where Egypt and the Land of Israel meet, where exile and homeland, assimilation and separateness, press against each other.

In this liminal zone, the family of Yaakov becomes a people. They are near enough to Egypt to benefit from its resources, yet distinct enough—geographically, socially, and spiritually—to maintain their identity. The same root that once signified a fearful approach in the throne room now marks the place where a new stage of Jewish history will unfold. ​

The Zohar, reading at the level of sod - mystery, hears in “vayigash elav Yehudah,” in Yosef’s “Come near to me,” and in “the land of Goshen, and you shall be near to me” the resonances of cosmic closeness - hitkarevut. Yehudah and Yosef are not only brothers but aspects of the divine-human relationship, often mapped to Malchut and Yesod. Their drawing near to one another signals worlds drawing near to one another: upper and lower, hidden and revealed, judgment and mercy. The reunion of Yosef and Yaakov in Goshen, in this reading, is the reuniting of separated realms.[14]

In that light, Goshen is not merely a refuge from famine. It is a symbol of the place where distance is transformed into proximity, where fractures begin to mend, where exile itself becomes the setting for a new kind of closeness with God and with one another. And perhaps Yosef, more than anyone else, senses that this is only the beginning of a long exile; he therefore opens that exile not with the sounds of power, but with the sounds and gestures of brotherhood, because without unity the Jewish people would not survive exile at all.

Yosef has already learned how precarious power can be under a mercurial ruler; in Egypt, power is granted one day and taken away the next. By the end of the story he knows that, to survive the darkness of exile, they will need one another and the protection of God more than they will ever need titles or status. In that light, Goshen is not merely a refuge from famine. It is a symbol of the place where distance is transformed into proximity, where fractures begin to mend, where exile itself becomes the setting for a new kind of closeness with God and with one another.

 

---

[1] Bereishit Rabbah 93:7

בראשית רבה (וילנא) פרשה צג סימן ז (פרשת ויגש)

דָּבָר אַחֵר, וַיִּגַּשׁ אֵלָיו יְהוּדָה, זוֹ הִיא שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר בְּרוּחַ הַקֹּדֶשׁ עַל יְדֵי שְׁלֹמֹה ^{(קהלת ז':י"ט)}: הַחָכְמָה תָּעֹז לֶחָכָם וגו', כְּנֶגֶד מִי אָמַר שְׁלֹמֹה הַמִּקְרָא הַזֶּה, לֹא אֲמָרוֹ אֶלָּא כְּנֶגֶד יוֹסֵף הַצַּדִּיק, אָמַר רַבִּי יוֹחָנָן בְּשָׁעָה שֶׁתָּפַס יוֹסֵף הַצַּדִּיק אֶת בִּנְיָמִין וְאָמַר לָהֶם לְאֶחָיו ^{(בראשית מ"ד:י"ז)}: הָאִישׁ אֲשֶׁר נִמְצָא הַגָּבִיעַ בְּיָדוֹ הוּא יִהְיֶה לִי עָבֶד, אָמַר לוֹ יְהוּדָה בִּנְיָמִין אַתְּ תָּפוֹס וְשָׁלוֹם בְּבֵית אַבָּא, מִיָּד כָּעַס יְהוּדָה וְשָׁאַג בְּקוֹל גָּדוֹל וְהָלַךְ קוֹלוֹ אַרְבַּע מֵאוֹת פַּרְסָה עַד שֶׁשָּׁמַע חוּשִׁים בֶּן דָּן וְקָפַץ מֵאֶרֶץ כְּנַעַן וּבָא אֵצֶל יְהוּדָה וְשָׁאֲגוּ שְׁנֵיהֶם וּבִקְשָׁה אֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם לֵהָפֵךְ, עֲלֵיהֶם אָמַר אִיּוֹב ^{(איוב ד':י')}: שַׁאֲגַת אַרְיֵה וְקוֹל שָׁחַל. שַׁאֲגַת אַרְיֵה, זֶה יְהוּדָה, שֶׁכָּתוּב בּוֹ ^{(בראשית מ"ט:ט')}: גּוּר אַרְיֵה יְהוּדָה. וְקוֹל שָׁחַל, זֶה חוּשִׁים בֶּן דָּן, שֶׁשְּׁנֵיהֶם נִמְשְׁלוּ כַּאֲרִי, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר ^{(דברים ל"ג:כ"ב)}: וּלְדָן אָמַר דָּן גּוּר אַרְיֵה. ^{(איוב ד':י')}: שִׁנֵּי כְפִירִים נִתָּעוּ, אֵלּוּ גִּבּוֹרָיו שֶׁל יוֹסֵף, שֶׁכֵּיוָן שֶׁכָּעַס יְהוּדָה נָשְׁרוּ שִׁנֵּיהֶם שֶׁל כֻּלָּם. אָמַר רַבִּי יְהוֹשֻׁעַ בֶּן לֵוִי אַף אֶחָיו כֵּיוָן שֶׁרָאוּ יְהוּדָה שֶׁכָּעַס אַף הֵם נִתְמַלְּאוּ חֵמָה וּבָעֲטוּ בָּאָרֶץ וְעָשׂוּ אוֹתָהּ תְּלָמִים תְּלָמִים, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר ^{(איוב ד':י"א)}: לַיִשׁ אֹבֵד מִבְּלִי טָרֶף, זֶה יְהוּדָה שֶׁמָּסַר עַצְמוֹ עַל בִּנְיָמִין, אָמַר שֶׁמָּא יִמְחֹל הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא עַל אוֹתוֹ עָוֹן שֶׁהִטְעֵיתִי אֶת אַבָּא וְאָמַרְתִּי לוֹ אֲנִי מְבִיאוֹ לָךְ. בְּאוֹתָהּ שָׁעָה נִתְמַלֵּא חֵמָה עַל יוֹסֵף, כֵּיוָן שֶׁרָאָה יוֹסֵף סִימָנִין שֶׁל יְהוּדָה, מִיָּד נִזְדַּעֲזֵעַ וְנִבְהַל אָמַר אוֹי לִי שֶׁמָּא יַהַרְגֵנִי, וּמָה הֵן סִימָנִין שֶׁהָיוּ בוֹ בִּיהוּדָה, שֶׁל בֵּית שִׁילוֹ אָמְרוּ שְׁנֵי שִׁלְטוֹנִין זוֹלְגוֹת דָּם, וְיֵשׁ אוֹמְרִים כְּמִין שִׁלְטֵי הַגִּבּוֹרִים, וַחֲמִשָּׁה לְבוּשִׁים הָיָה לוֹבֵשׁ, נִימָה אַחַת הָיְתָה לוֹ בְּלִבּוֹ כֵּיוָן שֶׁהָיָה כּוֹעֵס הָיָה קוֹרֵעַ אֶת כֻּלָּם. מֶה עָשָׂה יוֹסֵף בְּאוֹתָהּ שָׁעָה אוֹתוֹ עַמּוּד שֶׁל אֶבֶן שֶׁהָיָה יוֹשֵׁב עָלָיו בָּעַט בּוֹ וַעֲשָׂאוֹ גַּל שֶׁל צְרוֹרוֹת, מִיָּד תָּמַהּ יְהוּדָה וְאָמַר זֶה גִּבּוֹר מִמֶּנִּי, בְּאוֹתָהּ שָׁעָה אָחַז יְהוּדָה חַרְבּוֹ לְשָׁלְפָהּ מִתַּעֲרָהּ וְאֵינָהּ נִשְׁלֶפֶת לוֹ, אָמַר יְהוּדָה וַדַּאי זֶה יְרֵא שָׁמַיִם הוּא לְכָךְ נֶאֱמַר ^{(קהלת ז':י"ט)}: הַחָכְמָה תָּעֹז לֶחָכָם.

 

[2] Hadar Zekenim Bereishit 44:18, Targum Yerushalmi 44:18

הדר זקנים בראשית פרק מד פסוק יח (פרשת ויגש)

ויגש אליו יהודה. ירושלמי וקריב לותיה יהודה תקיף ומתגבר כאריה…

תרגום ירושלמי (ניאופיטי) בראשית מ"ד:י"ח

וקרב לוותיה יהודה זעף במלין ומדכדך בלישנא נהם כאריה ואמר בבעו מינך רבוני ימלל כען עבדך פתגם ורבוני לא יתקוף רוגזך בעבדך הלא מן זמנא קדמייא דאתינן לוותך הוויית אמר לן מן קדם י"י אנה דחיל וכדון חזרו דינך למהווי מדמיין לדינוי דפרעה רבך…

 

[3] Rashi Bereishit 44:18

רש"י בראשית פרק מד פסוק יח (פרשת ויגש)

ואל יחר אפך - מכאן אתה למד שדבר אליו^ב קשות:

כי כמוך כפרעה - חשוב אתה בעיני כמלך^ג זה פשוטו. ומדרשו,^ד סופך ללקות עליו בצרעת כמו שלקה פרעה^ה על ידי זקנתי שרה על לילה אחת שעכבה.

 

[4] Bereishit Rabbah 93:6

בראשית רבה (וילנא) פרשה צג סימן ו (פרשת ויגש)

דָּבָר אַחֵר, וַיִּגַּשׁ אֵלָיו יְהוּדָה, רַבִּי יְהוּדָה רַבִּי נְחֶמְיָה וְרַבָּנָן, רַבִּי יְהוּדָה אוֹמֵר הֲגָשָׁה לְמִלְחָמָה, הֵיךְ מָה דְאַתְּ אָמַר ^{(שמואל ב י':י"ג)}: וַיִּגַּשׁ יוֹאָב וְהָעָם אֲשֶׁר עִמּוֹ לַמִּלְחָמָה, רַבִּי נְחֶמְיָה אוֹמֵר הֲגָשָׁה לְפִיּוּס, הֵיךְ מָה דְאַתְּ אָמַר ^{(יהושע י"ד:ו')}: וַיִּגְשׁוּ בְנֵי יְהוּדָה אֶל יְהוֹשֻׁעַ לְפַיְיסוֹ. רַבָּנָן אָמְרֵי הֲגָשָׁה לִתְפִלָּה ^{(מלכים א י"ח:ל"ו)}: וַיִּגַּשׁ אֵלִיָּהוּ הַנָּבִיא וַיֹּאמַר ה' אֱלֹהֵי וגו'. רַבִּי אֶלְעָזָר אָמַר פְּשַׁט לְהוֹן אִם לְמִלְחָמָה אֲנִי בָא, אִם לְפִיּוּס אֲנִי בָא, אִם לִתְפִלָּה אֲנִי בָא. בִּי אֲדֹנִי, בִּי וְלֹא בֵיהּ, אִם לְמַמְלֵא מַיָא אֲנָא, אִם לְשַׁמָּשָׁא אֲנָא, אִם לְמִפְצַע קִיסִין אֲנָא.

[5] Bereishit Rabbah 49:8

בראשית רבה (וילנא) פרשה מ"ט סימן ח' (פרשת וירא)

(ח) וַיִּגַּשׁ אַבְרָהָם וַיֹּאמַר וגו' (בראשית י"ח:כ"ג), רַבִּי יְהוּדָה וְרַבִּי נְחֶמְיָה וְרַבָּנָן, רַבִּי יְהוּדָה אוֹמֵר הַגָּשָׁה לְמִלְחָמָה (דברי הימים א י"ט:י"ד): וַיִּגַּשׁ יוֹאָב וְהָעָם אֲשֶׁר עִמּוֹ לִפְנֵי אֲרָם לַמִּלְחָמָה. רַבִּי נְחֶמְיָה אָמַר הַגָּשָׁה לְפִיּוּס, הֵיךְ מָה דְאַתְּ אָמַר (יהושע י"ד:ו'): וַיִּגְּשׁוּ בְּנֵי יְהוּדָה אֶל יְהוֹשֻׁעַ. רַבָּנָן אָמְרֵי הַגָּשָׁה לִתְפִלָּה, הֵיךְ מָה דְאַתְּ אָמַר (מלכים א י"ח:ל"ו): וַיְהִי כַּעֲלוֹת הַמִּנְחָה וַיִּגַּשׁ אֵלִיָּהוּ הַנָּבִיא וַיֹּאמַר ה' אֱלֹהֵי אַבְרָהָם יִצְחָק וְיִשְׂרָאֵל הַיּוֹם יִוָּדַע כִּי אַתָּה אֱלֹהִים בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל וגו', רַבִּי אֶלְעָזָר פָּשַׁט לָהּ אִם לְמִלְחָמָה אֲנִי בָא, אִם לְפִיּוּס אֲנִי בָא, אִם לִתְפִלָּה אֲנִי בָא. רַבִּי פִּינְחָס וְרַבִּי לֵוִי וְרַבִּי יוֹחָנָן, זֶה שֶׁהוּא עוֹבֵר לִפְנֵי הַתֵּבָה אֵין אוֹמְרִים לוֹ בּוֹא וַעֲשֵׂה, בּוֹא קְרַב, בּוֹא וַעֲשֵׂה קְרָבָן שֶׁל צִבּוּר, אֶלָּא בּוֹא וּקְרַב לְהִתְפַּלֵּל.

 

[6] Ha’amek Davar Bereishit 44:18

העמק דבר בראשית פרק מד פסוק יח (פרשת ויגש)

ויגש אליו יהודה. לא נתבאר לפי הפשט הגשה זו להתקרב ליוסף מה היא, וכי יוסף לא היה שומע דבריו ממקום שעמד עד כה, וגם הרי המליץ בינותם, והדרש ידוע הגשה לג' דברים, אבל הפשט עדיין מתבקש ויבואר לפנינו: …וכן המדבר בלחש שלא ישמעו רבים אלא הוא, מיקרי מדבר באזניו^(א), ולפ"ז הכא נמי משמעות באזני אדני בלחישה, שלא ישמעו כל הנצבים. …

[7] Ramban Bereishit 44:18

רמב"ן בראשית פרק מד פסוק יח (פרשת ויגש)

כי כמוך כפרעה - ובמורא גדול אני מדבר לפניך כאלו אני מדבר לפני פרעה:

 

[8] Rav Avraham Ben Harambam Bereishit 44:18

רבי אברהם בן הרמב"ם בראשית פרק מד פסוק יח (פרשת ויגש)

ויגש אליו יהודה. ניגש במקום וניגש בדיבור כלומר במאמר ו(ב)אומץ: ומאמרו ואל יחר אפך אף על פי שאין במאמרו מה שיכעיס אותו לפי שהנגישה אל המלכים וריבוי הדברים לפניהם וההתנגדות להם במגמותיהם והריצוי לפניהם בשעת כעסם יכעיס אותם ויוסיף על חמתם [ו]הוא (יהודה) כבר נתן טעם ליראתו שמא יכעוס (יוסף) על דבריו במה שאמר כי כמוך כפרעה: זה פשטיה דקרא ומה (שאמרו) חוץ מזה דרש:

[9]  Ha’amek Davar Bereishit 44:18

… והנה אחר הצעת יהודה היה מבוקשו להחליפו שישב הוא עבד תחת בנימין, וגם זה אינו לפי נימוסי המדינה, ואי אפשר לעשות כן אלא פרעה עצמו, ועל כן הוצרך יהודה להקדים ולומר ליוסף, כי כמהו כפרעה יכול לעשות דבר שלא כנימוסי המדינה, אבל היה קשה להשמיע לכל הנצבים, שלא יענש גם הוא גם יוסף כאשר ישמע כדברים האלה ולא ימחה, וכדאיתא בגיטין דנ"ו בעת שאמר ריב"ז לאספסינוס שלמא לך מלכא הקפיד הרבה וא"ל מחייבית קטלא דלא מלכא אנא וקרית לי מלכא, מש"ה נצרך יהודה להגיד בלשון מצרים בלחישה באזני יוסף זה הדבר, ובאשר אין דרך ארץ לבקש ממושל רב שידבר באזניו, על כן אמר ואל יחר אפך בעבדך. ולפי זה כך המשך הכתוב ויגש אליו יהודה לדבר בלחישה בלשון מצרים עם יוסף, ואמר ידבר נא עבדך דבר. מאמר קצר ומעט, באזני אדני. בלחישה ולא ע"י מליץ:

[10] Kli Yakar 44:18

כלי יקר בראשית פרק מד פסוק יח (פרשת ויגש)

כי כמוך כפרעה. כמו שראוי לחלוק כבוד למלכות ושאין לדבר קשות בפני המלך כי חמת מלך מלאכי מות (משלי טז יד) כך אין נכון לדבר גבוהה להוציא עתק מפיו נגד כל השומעים, וממנו למדו זה, כי יוסף אמר קום רדוף אחרי האנשים והשגתם, דוקא כשתשיגם ותהיה סמוך להם תדבר באוזנם ענין הגביע, ולא תצעק עליהם מרחוק להריע עליהם כגנב אלא בינך לבינם תדבר להם שלא ידעו המצרים דבר מזה, על כן גם בויכוח זה רצה יהודה ללחוש באוזניו וקולו לא ישמע אל המצרים ואמר ואל יחר אפך בעבדך, כי כל כעס מביא לידי טעות ויגרום שלא יכנסו טענותי באוזניך אף אם יהיו נכוחים למבין כי הכעס יגרום שלא תוכל לשפוט בצדק, ואם תאמר ומה בכך כי אם לפעמים איזה שר ומושל טעה בדבר המשפט, יש גבוה מעל כל גבוה והוא המלך שלוקחין המשפט אל המלך והוא יתקן מה שקלקל המושל, על זה אמר כי כמוך כפרעה ואצלך הגמר דין כמו אצל פרעה, ואין ליקח המשפט ממך אל המלך ומלפניך משפטי יצא מכל וכל, על כן אני מבקש שעיניך תחזינה מישרים ואל יחר אפך ואז לא תבוא לידי טעות:

[11] Targum Onkelos 44:18, 45:4

תרגום אונקלוס בראשית פרק מד פסוק יח (פרשת ויגש)

(יח) וקריב לותיה יהודה ואמר בבעו רבוני ימליל כען עבדך פתגמא קדם רבוני ולא יתקף רוגזך בעבדך ארי כפרעה כן את: 

תרגום אונקלוס בראשית פרק מה פסוק ד (פרשת ויגש)

(ד) ואמר יוסף לאחוהי קרובו כען לותי וקריבו ואמר אנא יוסף אחוכון דזבינתון יתי למצרים:

[12] Pirkei de-Rabbi Eliezer chapter 26.

פרקי דרבי אליעזר פרק כו

רַבִּי טַרְפוֹן אוֹמֵר,בְּאוֹתָהּ הַלַּיְלָה שֶׁנִּלְקְחָה שָׂרָה אִמֵּנוּ, אוֹתָהּ הַלַּיְלָה לֵיל פֶּסַח הָיָה, וְהֵבִיא הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא עַל פַּרְעֹה וְעַל בֵּיתוֹ נְגָעִים גְּדוֹלִים, לְהוֹדִיעוֹ שֶׁכֵּן הוּא עָתִיד לְהַכּוֹת אֶת מִצְרַיִם בִּנְגָעִים גְּדוֹלִים, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר [שם יז] וַיְנַגַּע ה' אֶת פַּרְעֹה נְגָעִים גְּדֹלִים. רַבִּי יְהוֹשֻׁעַ בֶּן קָרְחָה אוֹמֵר, מֵאַהֲבָתוֹ אוֹתָהּ פַּרְעֹה,^(כח) כָּתַב לָהּ בִּשְׁטַר כְּתֻבָּה כָּל מָמוֹנוֹ,^(כט) בֵּין כֶּסֶף בֵּין זָהָב בֵּין עֲבָדִים בֵּין קַרְקָעוֹת, וְכָתַב לָהּ^(ל) אֶת אֶרֶץ גּשֶׁן לַאֲחֻזָּה, לְפִיכָךְ^(לא) יָשְׁבוּ יִשְׂרָאֵל בְּאֶרֶץ גּשֶׁן שֶׁהִיא שֶׁל שָׂרָה אִמֵּנוּ. וְכָתַב לָהּ^(לב) אֶת הָגָר בִּתּוֹ מִפִּלַגְשׁוֹ לְשִׁפְחָה. וּמִנַּיִן שֶׁהָיְתָה הָגָר הַמִּצְרִית שִׁפְחָה, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר [שם טז, א] וְשָׂרַי אֵשֶׁת אַבְרָם לֹא יָלְדָה לוֹ וְלָהּ שִׁפְחָה מִצְרִית וּשְׁמָהּ הָגָר.^(לג) הִשְׁכִּים פַּרְעֹה בַּבֹּקֶר^(לד) נִבְהָל וְנֶחְפָּז שֶׁלֹּא קָרַב לְשָׂרָה. וְקָרָא לְאַבְרָהָם וְאָמַר לוֹ הֲרֵי אִשְׁתְּךָ^(לה) וְכָל שְׁטָרוֹת מַתְּנוֹתֶיהָ עִמָּהּ,^(לו) לֵךְ וְאַל תַּעֲמֹד בָּאָרֶץ הַזֹּאת, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר [בראשית יב, יט] הִנֵּה אִשְׁתְּךָ קַח וָלֵךְ.^(לז) וְכָתוּב אַחֲרָיו וַיְצַו עָלָיו פַּרְעֹה אֲנָשִׁים.^(לח)

[13]  Pirkei de-Rabbi Eliezer chapter 39.

פרקי דרבי אליעזר פרק לט

וְשָׁמַע יוֹסֵף שֶׁבָּא אָבִיו^(טו) לִגְבוּל מִצְרַיִם,^(טז) וְלָקַח אֶת כָּל הָאֲנָשִׁים עִמּוֹ וְיָצָא לִקְרַאת אָבִיו.

 

[14]  Zohar Bereishit 206a, 211a.

זוהר כרך א (בראשית) פרשת ויגש דף רו עמוד א

תָּא חֲזֵי, וַיִּגַּשׁ אֵלָיו, תִּקְרוּבְתָּא דְעַלְמָא בְּעַלְמָא, לְאִתְאַחֲדָא דָּא בְּדָא לְמֶהוֵי כֹּלָּא חַד. בְּגִין דִּיְהוּדָה אִיהוּ מֶלֶךְ וְיוֹסֵף מֶלֶךְ. אִתְקְרִיבוּ דָא בְּדָא, וְאִתְאֲחִידוּ דָּא בְּדָא.‏‏

[בֹּא רְאֵה, וַיִּגַּשׁ אֵלָיו, הִתְקָרְבוּת שֶׁל עוֹלָם עִם עוֹלָם, לְהֵאָחֵז זֶה עִם זֶה, שֶׁהַכֹּל יִהְיֶה אֶחָד. מִשּׁוּם שֶׁיְּהוּדָה הוּא מֶלֶךְ וְיוֹסֵף מֶלֶךְ, הִתְקָרְבוּ זֶה לָזֶה וְנֶאֶחְזוּ זֶה עִם זֶה.]‏‏

 רִבִּי יְהוּדָה פָּתַח וְאָמַר, (תהלים מח) כִּי הִנֵּה הַמְלָכִים נוֹעֲדוּ, דָּא יְהוּדָה וְיוֹסֵף. בְּגִין דְּתַרְוַויְיהוּ מְלָכִים, וְאִתְקְרִיבוּ דָּא בְּדָא לְאִתְוַוכְּחָא תַּרְוַויְיהוּ כָּחֲדָא. בְּגִין דִּיְהוּדָה אִתְעָרֵב בֵּיהּ בְּבִנְיָמִן, וְהֲוָה עָרֵב לְגַבֵּיהּ דְּאֲבוֹי בֵּיהּ, בְּהַאי עַלְמָא וּבְעַלְמָא דְאָתֵי. וְעַל דָּא אִתְקְרִיב קַמֵּיהּ דְּיוֹסֵף, לְאִתְוַוכְּחָא עִמֵּיהּ עַל עִסְקָא דְבִנְיָמִן, דְּלָא לְמֶהוֵי בְּנִדּוּי. בְּהַאי עַלְמָא וּבְעַלְמָא דְאָתֵי. כְּמָא דְאַתְּ אָמֵר, (בראשית מג) אָנֹכִי אֶעֶרְבֶנּוּ מִיָּדִי תְּבַקְּשֶׁנּוּ אִם לא הֲבִיאוֹתִיו אֵלֶיךָ וְהִצַּגְתִּיו לְפָנְיךָ וְחָטָאתִי לְאָבִי כָּל הַיָּמִים. בְּהַאי עַלְמָא וּבְעַלְמָא דְאָתֵי.‏

[רַבִּי יְהוּדָה פָּתַח וְאָמַר, (תהלים מח) כִּי הִנֵּה הַמְּלָכִים נוֹעֲדוּ - זֶה יְהוּדָה וְיוֹסֵף, מִשּׁוּם שֶׁשְּׁנֵיהֶם מְלָכִים, וְהִתְקָרְבוּ זֶה לָזֶה לְהִתְוַכֵּחַ שְׁנֵיהֶם יַחַד, מִשּׁוּם שֶׁיְּהוּדָה עָרַב לְבִנְיָמִין, וְהָיָה עָרֵב לְאָבִיו בּוֹ בָּעוֹלָם הַזֶּה וּבָעוֹלָם הַבָּא, וְעַל כֵּן הִתְקָרֵב לִפְנֵי יוֹסֵף לְהִתְוַכֵּחַ עִמּוֹ עַל עִסְקוֹ שֶׁל בִּנְיָמִין, שֶׁלֹּא לִהְיוֹת בְּנִדּוּי בָּעוֹלָם הַזֶּה וּבָעוֹלָם הַבָּא, כְּמוֹ שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר (בראשית מג) אָנֹכִי אֶעֶרְבֶנּוּ מִיָּדִי תְּבַקְשֶׁנּוּ אִם לֹא הֲבִיאֹתִיו אֵלֶיךְ וְהִצַּגְתִּיו לְפָנֶיךְ וְחָטָאתִי לְךְ כָּל הַיָּמִים, בָּעוֹלָם הַזֶּה וּבָעוֹלָם הַבָּא.]‏ ‏

זוהר כרך א (בראשית) פרשת ויגש דף ריא עמוד א זהר מנוקד/תרגום/ חלק א דף ריא/א

וְכַד אִיהִי מִתְתַּקְנָא לְגַבֵּיהּ דְּאָדָם, לְמֶהֱוֵי כֹּלָּא רְתִיכָא (נ"א קדישא, וכהן כלא רתיכא) חָדָא, לְהַאי אָדָם. כְּדֵין כְּתִיב, וַיֶּאֱסוֹר יוֹסֵף מֶרְכַּבְתּוֹ דָּא צַדִּיק. וַיַּעַל לִקְרַאת יִשְׂרָאֵל אָבִיו גּשְׁנָה. לִקְרַאת יִשְׂרָאֵל, דָּא רָזָא דְּאָדָם. גּשְׁנָה, תִּקְרוּבְתָּא חָדָא, לְאִתְקְרָבָא כְּחֲדָא, בְּקָרְבָּנָא חָדָא וְיִחוּדָא חָדָא.‏‏

[וּכְשֶׁהִיא נִתְקֶנֶת כְּלַפֵּי אָדָם, שֶׁהַכֹּל יִהְיֶה מֶרְכָּבָה (נ"א: קדושה, ואז כל המרכבה) אַחַת לָאָדָם הַזֶּה, אָז כָּתוּב: וַיֶּאְסֹר יוֹסֵף מֶרְכַּבְתּוֹ - זֶה הַצַּדִּיק. וַיַּעַל לִקְרַאת יִשְׂרָאֵל אָבִיו גֹּשְׁנָה. לִקְרַאת יִשְׂרָאֵל - זֶה הַסּוֹד שֶׁל אָדָם. גֹּשְׁנָה - הִתְקָרְבוּת אַחַת, לְהִתְקָרֵב יַחַד בְּקָרְבָּן אֶחָד וְיִחוּד אֶחָד.]‏