Dear Friends,
What is the model Jew? Is there even such a thing?
This week’s parsha, Vayigash (“And he confronted.”) which begins at the climax of the Joseph and his brothers' drama gives us some insight into this question:
Judah—who personally guaranteed his father that he would protect Benjamin at all costs—steps forward to confront the ruler of Egypt. He pleads for Benjamin’s release and ultimately offers himself as a slave in Benjamin’s place. Judah does not know that this powerful Egyptian ruler is actually his brother Joseph in disguise. He thinks this is some thug kidnapping his brother on a pretense. Judah is prepared for diplomacy, bargaining, even battle—anything to save a brother.
That moment breaks Joseph.
Seeing Judah’s willingness to take responsibility and his brothers’ loyalty to one another, Joseph can no longer contain himself. He reveals his identity and cries out, “I am Joseph. Is my father still alive?”
The emotional reunion is unforgettable. But Torah commentators explain that Judah’s confrontation does more than reunite a family—it foreshadows an enduring tension in Jewish history. Judah and Joseph represent two different kinds of Jews, two spiritual paths.
As Rabbi Adin Even-Yisrael Steinsaltz explains, Joseph represents perfection—brilliance, righteousness, and success from the start. But perfection can be fragile when it cracks.
Judah represents perseverance. He stumbles in his moral decisions twice, with the sale of Joseph and the episode with Tamar. But he also grows and takes responsibility and keeps moving forward. And Judaism ultimately follows Judah—not because his path is cleaner, but because it is durable.
Jewish life is not about flawless people. It’s about people who keep showing up—for their families, for their values, for one another.
Here is one of my favorite stories of the Rebbe:
In the 1960s, a group of secular college students came to visit the Lubavitcher Rebbe.
They asked thoughtful questions about faith, science, and Judaism. Then one student spoke honestly:
“Rebbe, we’re not religious. We don’t keep Shabbat or kosher. Tell us—are we good Jews?”
The Rebbe answered by telling a story.
Jacob, he said, once had a dream. He saw a ladder stretching from earth to heaven. Angels were going up, and angels were going down. Some were near the top of the ladder; others were at the bottom. Each rung, the Rebbe explained, represents a mitzvah.
“Some people,” the Rebbe said gently, “are born near the top of the ladder—but they may be descending. Others begin at the bottom—but they are climbing, even if only one rung at a time.”
Then the Rebbe looked at the students and asked: “So tell me—who is the better Jew? The one who started high and stepped down? Or the one who started low and is still climbing?”
The Rebbe articulated the lesson of Judah, what matters most is not where you stand—but which direction you are going.
That is what I AM YISRAEL CHAI truly means: I am still here. Still growing. Still choosing a Jewish life of meaning and discovery. Still shining light to my neighbors and community.
Shabbat Shalom/Good Shabbos,
Rabbi Yitzi Hein