As we begin the Shemona Esrei, we say six words from Psalm 51, “Adoshem sefatai tiftach u’fi yagid tehilatecha.” Oh lord, open my lips so my mouth may declare your praise.” As we say these words, we take a step with each one – the first three walking backwards and the next three walking forwards. We walk backwards in awe and fear of Hashem, and then slowly, tentatively, humbly towards him, as if we were entering a king’s chamber.
Why three steps?
According to Rav Eleazar ben Yehuda, the 12th century author of Sefer Rokeach, it’s because the word Vayigash – and he drew close – is used in conjunction with supplication three times in the Tanach.
First, when Avraham Avinu argues with Hashem over the fate of the people of Sodom and Gemorah in Parshat Vayeira, it reads, “Vayigash Avraham, and Avraham drew close and said: “Will You also stamp out the righteous along with the wicked?” As we know, his debate with God continued and, had he been proven right, he would have saved those cites.
The second time Vayigash is used in conjunction with supplication is in this week’s parsha as Judah approaches Joseph.
The third time is when Elijah appears before the 450 prophets of Baal and challenges them to what I call the great Mount Carmel cook-off. The prophets call upon their god to light a fire under their sacrifice and nothing happens. Then, Elijah draws near and prays to Hashem. In answer to his prayer, fire miraculously appears and consumes the sacrifice, the wood, the stones, the earth, and the water that’s in the trench. At this, the community who ‘til now had turned to idol worship falls on their faces and initiates the words we say at the end of Neilah. “Adoshem Hu HaElokim. Adoshem Hu HaElokim.” The Lord is God. The Lord is God.
How does this moment, when Judah nears Joseph to appeal on his brother’s behalf compare to the great prayers of Avraham and Elijah, who challenge God in a larger than life way? Who is this man after whom we have named ourselves – the word Jew coming directly from the name Judah?
Judah was Jacob & Leah’s 4th born son. When he was a youth, Judah’s brothers plotted to kill Joseph. The eldest brother, Reuven convinced the brothers not to get blood on their hands and suggested that Joseph be thrown in to a pit instead. Reuven leaves and Judah steps up. He argues with his brothers, “What gain will there be if we kill our brother and cover up his blood?” He suggests that, instead of throwing him into a pit from which he may not survive, they sell Joseph to the Ishmaelites. Was he appealing to their greed? Their guilt? It doesn’t matter – Judah’s understood what words to use with his brothers and saved Joseph’s life.
Immediately after that episode, Judah moves out of town. Was it because he felt guilty? Ashamed? Disgusted? We don’t know. He gets married and has three sons, Er, Onan and Shelah. Er marries Tamar. Er dies childless, and, upon his death Judah instructs Onan, his second son, to do what is expected of a surviving brother in this situation, to marry this brother’s widow in his brother’s name. Onan knows this means his children will then be considered Er’s children. So, while he goes along with a marriage to Tamar, he refuses to sleep with her. As punishment, Onan dies, leaving Tamar alone once again.
Judah has now lost 2 of three sons. He’s afraid to ask his third son to marry Tamar. He gives her an excuse – his third son is still too young. Tamar has no choice but to leave town and return to live in her father’s house.
Years pass. Judah’s wife dies and, once he’s consoled, he travels on a business trip to a town near the town where Tamar lives. Tamar hears Judah’s coming, dresses herself like a prostitute, solicits Judah and agrees to take a goat as payment. As a security for the payment, Judah gives her his signet, his wrap and his staff.
Three months later, Judah hears that Tamar had committed harlotry and became pregnant. Furious, self-righteous, Judah orders that she be taken out and burned. As she’s being escorted, she sends word to Judah – “By the man to whom these belong I am with child. Identify, if you please, whose are this signet, this wrap; and this staff.”
When the message reaches him and he sees his belongings, Judah immediately realizes what wrongs he’d done to Tamar and repents. He announces, “She is more righteous than I.” Tamar gives birth to twins. The eldest is a direct ancestor to King David, born nine generations later.
Time passes. There’s a famine in the land. Judah is standing with his brothers in front of their father. They’ve just returned from Egypt after meeting with Joseph the first time. They’re hungry. Reuven asks his father to let them take Benjamin with them back to Egypt saying, “You may slay my two sons if I fail to bring him back to you. Put him in my care and I will return him to you.” Slay my two sons? What kind of proposal is that? And wasn’t Joseph in Reuven’s care when Joseph disappeared? Jacob refuses.
The famine gets worse and Jacob asks his sons to “go back, and bring us some food.” All are quiet but Judah, who seizes the moment and appeals to his father. “The man sternly warned us saying, “Do not see my face unless your brother is with you.” Jacob again objects but Judah continues to try and convince his father, “Send the lad with me, let us arise and go, so we will live and not die, we as well as you as well as our children. I will personally guarantee him; of my own hand you can demand him. If I do not bring him back to you and stand him before you, then I will have sinned to you for all time.”
Jacob relents. We aren’t told why. Perhaps it’s because Judah’s plea was made on behalf of the whole family. Perhaps he appreciated this appeal because it came from a man who had lost two sons of his own and thus understood his loss.
All of the sons, including Benjamin, go down to Egypt to buy food. Their mission is successful, but as they’re leaving, Joseph, the 2nd most powerful person in their world catches Benjamin stealing his chalice and orders Benjamin to be his slave.
We’re now at our parsha.
“Vayigash eilav Yehuda.” And Judah nears Joseph. By this point, Judah has lived quite a life. He’d suffered with the guilt of selling off his brother and causing his father interminable grief. He moved away from home, married, lost two of his sons, lost his wife, as well as his dignity. He’s been able to turn his life around but, at this moment, his entire past comes back to haunt him. He’d sold off one brother and now he’s about to lose Benjamin to slavery.
What should he say? What words would he use? How could he collect all of the thoughts of his being and turn his fear and anger into heartfelt supplication to be listened to by the powerful? He’s a worthless servant in the chamber of one who needs nothing and the only thing he has is his words.
“Vayigash eilav Yehuda.” And Judah nears Joseph and says, “If you please, my lord, may your servant speak a word in my lord’s ears and let not your anger flare up at your servant – for you are like Pharaoh. My lord has asked his servants, saying, ‘Have you a father or brother?’ And we said to my lord, ‘We have an old father and a young child of his old age; his brother is dead, he alone is left from his mother, and his father loves him.’ Then you said to your servants, ‘Bring him down do me, and I will set my eye on him.’ We said to my lord, ‘The youth cannot leave his father, for should he leave his father he will die.’ But you said to your servants, ‘If your youngest brother does not come down with you, you will not see my face again!’”
These words are spoken by Judah, a man who’s lost his own sons, to Joseph, a man who’s hearing about the grief his own father feels for him. It’s an emotionally charged ordeal!
Then Joseph hears his father’s words, “You know my wife bore me two sons. One has left me and I presumed; alas, he has surely been torn to pieces, for I have not seen him since. So should you take this one too, from my presence, and disaster befalls him, then you will have brought down my old age in evil to the grave.”
Judah then offers himself up as a slave to Joseph in Benjamin’s place. At that moment, Joseph runs off to cry. There is a transformation. Years ago, Judah took action and saved Joseph’s life and now he’s standing up to save the life of Joseph’s brother. And a wonderful thing happens. Instead of blaming Judah and his brothers, Joseph says, “it was to be a provider that God sent me here ahead of you.” No blame. Pure forgiveness.
“Vayigash eilav Yehuda.” As Yehuda neared Joseph, he was able to call upon every thread of his being and his personal history – Judah’s self-sacrifice was genuine as was his supplication. Judah learned the meaning of humility from Tamar. He also appreciated the full power of words – words that sent Joseph to slavery, words that hurt Tamar, words admitting guilt, which brought healing to him and Tamar. And words that convinced his father not only to trust him with Benjamin, but the fate of entire family.
Yehuda chose his words carefully and he gathered the confidence to re-enter the chamber of the powerful and to win enough of that leader’s trust to step close enough to speak quietly into this ear.
Our kings come from Judah, a man with faults, but a man who understood the power of words and used them constructively. And talent of using words was passed on generations later to David, who penned the 6 words with which we being the Shemona Esrei; “Adoshem sefatai tiftach u’fi yagid tehilatecha.” Oh lord, open my lips so my mouth may declare your praise.”
We children of Judah are the people of the book, a people of words. We know the world was created with words and that some people’s worlds have been destroyed with words. That is why, I believe, we hold so much faith in prayer.
As we take three steps forwards, we are retracing the steps of millions who have braved an approach to God before us. Be they battles with God over injustice, fights on behalf of those who require God’s support, or the important, quiet, intimate thoughts we bring to the heavenly chamber to whisper into the ears of our confidant, lord and God.
Shabbat Shalom.