Forgiveness, Unity, and the Architecture of Redemption

 In this post our member Rabbi Paul Bloom considers the fragile emotional state of Yaakov's family after his decease, and describes its route to reconciliation and the prospect for redemption.  

The Final Moral Vision of Sefer Bereishit

 The closing chapter of Sefer Bereishit brings us to a moment charged with fear, memory, and moral reckoning. Yaakov Avinu has died. He has been mourned, escorted with great honor from Egypt to Chevron, and buried in Ma’arat HaMachpelah. The family returns to Egypt—but the emotional equilibrium has shifted irrevocably.

 Yosef is no longer simply a brother. He is the all-powerful viceroy of the mightiest empire on earth. The brothers, stripped of the protective presence of their father, are suddenly terrified. As long as Yaakov lived, they believed that Yosef’s resentment—if it still existed—was held in check. Now, they fear, the reckoning may come.

 The Torah describes their anxiety (at Bereishit 50:15):

וַיִּרְאוּ אֲחֵי-יוֹסֵף, כִּי-מֵת אֲבִיהֶם, וַיֹּאמְרוּ, לוּ יִשְׂטְמֵנוּ יוֹסֵף; וְהָשֵׁב יָשִׁיב, לָנוּ, אֵת כָּל-הָרָעָה, אֲשֶׁר גָּמַלְנוּ אֹתוֹ 

When Yosef’s brothers saw that their father had died, they said: ‘Perhaps Yosef will bear hatred toward us and repay us for all the evil we inflicted upon him. 

Fear gives birth to a message. They send word to Yosef (Bereishit 50:16–17):

 וַיְצַוּוּ אֶל-יוֹסֵף לֵאמֹר אָבִיךָ צִוָּה, לִפְנֵי מוֹתוֹ לֵאמֹר

כֹּה-תֹאמְרוּ לְיוֹסֵף, אָנָּא שָׂא נָא פֶּשַׁע אַחֶיךָ וְחַטָּאתָם כִּי-רָעָה גְמָלוּךָ   

Your father commanded before his death, saying: ‘So shall you say to Yosef—please forgive the transgression of your brothers and their sin, for they caused you great harm.

 A “White Lie” — or a Deeper Truth?

Chazal, followed by Rashi, make a striking assertion. Yaakov never said this. Based on the Gemara (Yevamot 65b),  "A person is permitted to deviate from the truth for the sake of peace". According to this approach, the brothers altered the truth—not for personal gain, but to avert danger and preserve harmony.  Yosef himself would have known immediately that this message could not be literally true. He had never told his father what happened. The brothers had never told him either.

The Ramban emphasizes that Yaakov went to his grave without ever knowing of the sale of Yosef. One of the clearest proofs appears in Yaakov’s final blessings. He rebukes Shimon and Levi for the massacre of Shechem (Bereishit 49:5), yet he never mentions the attempted destruction of Yosef. Had Yaakov known, silence would have been impossible. Clearly, he never knew. But I would like to suggest a deeper reading—one in which the brothers’ message was not a lie at all.

 “Gather Together” — Yaakov’s True Final Command

 Before Yaakov begins blessing his sons individually, he summons them with charged language (Bereishit 49:1):

הֵאָסְפוּ וְאַגִּידָה לָכֶם, אֵת אֲשֶׁר-יִקְרָא אֶתְכֶם, בְּאַחֲרִית הַיָּמִים 

Gather yourselves, and I will tell you what will befall you at the end of days. 

Chazal explain that Yaakov sought to reveal the ultimate future—the trajectory of redemption—but this knowledge was withheld. The future is not meant to be predicted; it is meant to be created. Absolute foreknowledge would paralyze human freedom.

 Yet something essential was revealed. Yaakov continues (Bereishit 49:2):

 הִקָּבְצוּ וְשִׁמְעוּ, בְּנֵי יַעֲקֹב; וְשִׁמְעוּ, אֶל-יִשְׂרָאֵל אֲבִיכֶם 

Come together and listen, sons of Yaakov; listen to Israel, your father.

 The repeated call to gather—using two distinct Hebrew verbs—conveys a foundational truth: the future of Am Yisrael depends on unity. This, I suggest, is what the brothers meant when they said, *“Your father commanded us.”* Not that he uttered those precise words, but that he left them with an unmistakable mandate: Redemption requires unity.  Unity requires forgiveness.

Yosef’s Answer: Forgiveness as the Engine of History

 Yosef’s response confirms this reading (Bereishit 50:19–20):

 וַיֹּאמֶר אֲלֵהֶם יוֹסֵף, אַל-תִּירָאוּ:  כִּי הֲתַחַת אֱלֹהִים, אָנִי

וְאַתֶּם, חֲשַׁבְתֶּם עָלַי רָעָה; אֱלֹהִים, חֲשָׁבָהּ לְטֹבָה

Do not be afraid. Am I in the place of God? You intended evil against me—but God transformed it into good. Intentions still matter.

The brothers must answer to God for their moral failure. But history, Yosef teaches, is shaped by Divine purpose. Forgiveness is not denial of pain—it is commitment to the future.

Unity Without Uniformity

Yet a final question remains. If unity is so central, why does Yaakov emphasize difference? Why bless each son individually? Why assign each tribe a unique destiny? The Torah’s answer emerges later in the desert. The tribes encamp separately, each with its own banner, surrounding a single center (Bamidbar 2:2):

אִישׁ עַל-דִּגְלוֹ בְאֹתֹת לְבֵית אֲבֹתָם, יַחֲנוּ בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל:  מִנֶּגֶד, סָבִיב לְאֹהֶל-מוֹעֵד יַחֲנוּ

Each person by his banner, with the signs of his father’s house, shall the children of Israel encamp—facing and surrounding the Tent of Meeting.

 Unity does not require sameness. Diversity flourishes when oriented toward a shared spiritual center.

 Twelve Windows, One Heaven

 The Zohar teaches that ideally a synagogue should contain twelve windows—corresponding to the twelve tribes. Each shevet’s prayers ascend through a different spiritual channel. Different nuschaot, different paths—but one destination. What unites us is not uniform practice, but shared faith.

 The Closing Message of Bereishit

 When the brothers say to Yosef (Bereishit 50:17):

אָנָּא שָׂא נָא פֶּשַׁע אַחֶיךָ וְחַטָּאתָם כִּי-רָעָה גְמָלוּךָ 

Please forgive the transgression of the servants of your father’s God,

 they reveal the deepest source of Jewish unity. Even when brotherhood alone is strained, we are bound by something deeper: we are servants of the God of Yaakov.

 Bereishit closes not merely with reconciliation, but with a blueprint for redemption: A people of distinct voices, united by faith, sustained by forgiveness, and committed to a shared destiny.

 That is the strength of Israel. And that is the path to geulah.

Different in every way: Yom Kippur 5785

Tomorrow evening sees the start of Yom Kippur, the quintessential and unique Jewish holy day of the year.  All the other holidays that our God has given to us, as a faith and as a people, have their parallels in non-Jewish life.  All peoples have national independence days, harvest festivals for thanksgiving, celebrations of victories and historic moments of salvation. Naturally, though we have holy days of this genre, ours are far different than theirs: ours are accompanied by specific biblical commandments as to how the day is to be observed and what holy rituals, special foods and unique prayer services are to be attached to them as an integral part of the commemoration of that day.

 We can see that the concept behind days like these, such as Pesach, Shavuot, Succot, Chanukah and Purim, have characteristics that are universal, features that can be said to apply to other nations in the world. This is even true of Rosh Hashanah, since every culture has some sort of day to begin the New Year, whether it be on the solar or lunar calendar.

But Yom Kippur is different in every way; it has no equal anywhere in human civilization or history. There is no other day on the calendar that so strongly grasps the attention of Jews to the relationship between the God of Israel and His people, as does the day of Yom Kippur. This day is a gift from God to the people of Israel. Throughout all the millennia of its existence it has remained an exclusively Jewish concept and holiday. 

The concept of forgiveness per se is itself a novel and even surprising one. After all, whatever a person has done has a finality to it. There are always consequences that are derived and emanate from human behavior. It is almost illogical to think that there is any way in which the past can be undone, that wrongs can be righted, foolishness and sin being erased as though they never happened. These propositions are indeed true in human terms. 

Humans have the power to forgive, but never the power to retract or correct what was done before. But Heaven is operating in a manner that is far beyond our understanding and our ability to judge. The unlimited power of the Almighty seems to include the retroactive ability to erase what happened before, and, the capacity to change those consequences, ordained by our previous behavior, which were deemed to be immutable. 

This idea is the expression of the will and mercy of Heaven, extended to us as put forth in the words of that great prophet, Yechezkel: “The Lord does not wish for the death of human beings due to their sins, but rather wishes that they repent of their evil ways and thereby live.”  The Lord is the master of second chances. This is a rare and uniquely Jewish idea: it opens the way for regrets and rehabilitation, restoration, and accomplishment. Without such ideas, and without such an understanding of the Creator, we would truly be bereft of hope and confidence in our future and in our very lives. 

But this great gift must be earned. The Torah does not offer us a free lunch under any circumstances. Yom Kippur comes with a list of requirements—not just for the day, such as abstaining from food and drink and so forth, but also requiring a complete change of heart and attitude, and true regret on our part for the missteps of our past, and certainly for those of the past year. 

We have all been sorely tested in this past year, with unexpected plagues and tragedies, and a complete change in our societal lives and even our economic fortunes. The events of the past year should certainly have humbled us, making us think twice before we again boast of our abilities and achievements. It hopefully has made us less arrogant and dampened our egos. And that should be viewed as a good thing, for the beginning of repentance is always the feeling of humility and a certain degree of helplessness. We are, after all, but flesh and blood—mortal and frightened, alone and powerless before forces over whom we exert no influence or power. 

We can only ask the Lord that mercy and patience should be extended to us, and that we will try in this coming year to live up to the great challenges and demands that Jewish life imposes upon us. Additionally, we should seek to view these challenges and demands as opportunities, and not as negative trials. 

Shabbat shalom and an easy fast to everyone, Rabbi Berel Wein