Vayechi - Learning from Yosef to Forgive Wholeheartedly - Rabbi Asher Perkesh

00:00 This happened a few years ago. There was a couple, a husband and wife, and the wife was pregnant. Her pregnancy was already advanced; she was nearing the end, in her last month, and they went to a doctor. The doctor examined them and said the baby was in a very complicated position, one that posed a danger. He said the situation was so serious, because of the way the baby was positioned—upside down—that it would be impossible to save both of them. If they tried to save the baby, the mother could be in danger, Heaven forbid. It was a situation in which saving the mother would mean losing the baby, Heaven forbid; and saving the baby would mean losing the mother, Heaven forbid. One or the other. The parents went from one doctor to another. They consulted leading specialists and doctors, and all of them said the same thing: the situation really was that serious. Either they could save the baby and lose the mother, Heaven forbid, or save the mother and lose the baby. When they saw that none of the doctors could offer them a way out, they went to various tzaddikim and leading Torah authorities.

01:49 And no one could give them clear guidance, a clear decision about how to approach the matter. Time was running out, the days were passing, and [unclear] what to do. One of their good friends, or one of the rabbis they had spoken with, said to the young husband, “Why don’t you ask the Lubavitcher Rebbe for a blessing? Write a letter and ask the Lubavitcher Rebbe to advise you what to do and how to do it.” The young husband said, “Here I have to tell the truth: until now, not only have I not been a Lubavitcher chossid, I’ve been quite the opposite. Even when I was a young man, I did a number of things that were [unclear]. Especially in my dealings with, and attitude toward, [unclear], I used to belittle and disparage them. How can I now come and write to ask for a blessing?” That was how he felt at the time. They told him to write a letter, ask forgiveness for what he had done in the past, explain everything that had happened, and ask for a blessing and advice on what to do. So the young husband sat down to write

03:35 a letter. He wrote about his past conduct, about things he had done that were not right, and asked forgiveness. Then he described his wife’s condition and what the doctor had said, and everything the doctors had told them: that they could save either the baby or the mother, and that they did not know what to do or how to approach the situation. He asked the Rebbe to advise him how to handle it. He had already been to various doctors and rabbis, and still had no answer about what to do. He sent the letter to the Lubavitcher Rebbe. A few hours later, a reply arrived. [unclear] Perhaps the letter had been sent by fax. Yes, he sent the letter, and within a few hours he had the Rebbe’s reply. The Rebbe’s answer had three points and was extremely brief. The Rebbe—perhaps this was his practice in his later years, perhaps that was why—would give very short, direct answers. The reply contained three points. First, the Rebbe wrote that his request for forgiveness did not concern the Rebbe personally; it was a matter involving our Rebbeim, the Chabad leaders, and he should ask them for forgiveness, and they would forgive him. The second point concerned his request for a blessing.

05:11 Yes, regarding what he had written about his wife’s condition and the pregnancy, the Rebbe wrote: “Do not listen to the doctors’ words at all.” The Rebbe added a third point, that the birth would be [unclear], and that everything would go well and successfully. And there were outright miracles: she gave birth to a baby, and the delivery went smoothly, thank G-d, with both mother and child healthy. The young husband told this story at the shalom zachar. There was a large gathering there, many Jews from several communities, and he told them what had happened with the Rebbe. We find this matter of forgiveness in Parshas Vayechi, in the story of Yosef Hatzaddik and his brothers. In that parsha we find something very striking: after everything that had happened in Parshas Vayeishev, Mikeitz, and Vayigash, after the brothers had already been reunited with Yosef and had lived for seventeen years together with Yaakov Avinu—“Vayechi Yaakov,” he lived his best years with them—after all that, when Yaakov Avinu passed away, the parsha tells us that on their return from his burial, the brothers became frightened. They thought, “Perhaps Yosef will bear a grudge against us”—now that Yaakov Avinu had passed away, Yosef would take revenge on them for everything they had done to him, for selling him.

06:54 And as the Baal Haturim relates from the Midrashim, this is what happened: when Yosef Hatzaddik and his brothers were in Eretz Yisroel to bury Yaakov Avinu, on their way back they passed the pit into which they had thrown Yosef. When Yosef saw the pit, he said, “Blessed is He Who performed a miracle for me in this place.” The brothers, who were there, said to one another, “See, he remembers. He remembers every detail.” This heightened their fear that now, after Yaakov Avinu’s passing, he might take revenge on them for everything they had done to him: for the way they had sold him, and for showing him no mercy, as recounted earlier in Parshas Mikeitz: “When he pleaded with us, and we did not listen.” They feared that the hurt, pain, and anger might now resurface in Yosef, and that he would take revenge on them. So the parsha tells us that the brothers gathered and spoke to Yosef Hatzaddik. They said, “Your father gave instructions before his death”—he asked that we remain united and that Yosef forgive us. “Please forgive the transgression of your brothers and their sin, for they did evil to you; and now, please forgive the transgression of the servants of the G-d of your father.” And Yosef wept when they spoke to him.

08:20 “Yosef said to them: Do not fear, for am I in G-d’s place?” [unclear] “You intended evil against me, but G-d intended it for good.” [unclear] “And now, do not fear. I will provide for you and your children.” “He comforted them and spoke to their hearts.” He gave them food and drink and provided for all their needs with dignity. Did he forgive them wholeheartedly? That is the story told in the parsha. [unclear] The whole story raises many questions, but the parsha tells the entire story, that Yosef [unclear]. From this we learn what forgiveness should look like: one must forgive as Yosef forgave in Egypt, even after the harsh treatment he received from his brothers. [unclear] And for that reason Yosef forgave them wholeheartedly. And he did not merely forgive them [unclear]. Rabbeinu Bachya says [unclear].

09:43 [unclear] What we must learn from Yosef Hatzaddik is [unclear]. Yosef Hatzaddik was a tzaddik. Yosef Hatzaddik was [unclear], and we must learn from him. [unclear] Yosef Hatzaddik’s attitude toward his brothers, who sold him [unclear]—that goes against human nature. But we need to understand: what was going on with Yosef Hatzaddik? [unclear] How did he forgive his brothers wholeheartedly? [unclear]

11:04 [unclear] After all, Yosef [unclear] his brothers. [unclear] Did Yosef feel any resentment or hatred? [unclear] The Alter Rebbe says in Tanya—and Tanya is a book for beinonim, not a book for tzaddikim. The Alter Rebbe wrote Tanya for everyone. [unclear] In chapter 12, the Alter Rebbe says that a beinoni can—and this is how he puts it later in chapter 12—“the moment it rises from his heart to his mind” [unclear]. And in thought, speech, and action [unclear]. In chapter 12, when he explains what the avodah of a beinoni is and how it works, the Alter Rebbe says that on the

12:27 one hand, his animal soul has not yet changed completely. He has wants and desires. Nevertheless, when it comes to thought, speech, and action, he stands firm and does not allow the yetzer hara to enter his thoughts, speech, or actions. At the end of chapter 12, the Alter Rebbe says these words: “And likewise, in matters between one person and another, the moment some resentment or hatred, Heaven forbid, or some jealousy, anger, annoyance, or the like rises from his heart to his mind.” The Alter Rebbe says that when it comes to matters between one person and another, a thought may arise “the moment it rises from his heart to his mind”—and this is something that even a beinoni ordinarily cannot control, because his feelings and his heart have not yet been refined, have not yet been completely purified. In the course of life, from time to time, a thought of resentment or hatred, jealousy, anger, annoyance, or the like arises from his heart to his mind. The Alter Rebbe says that the beinoni’s strength is, first of all: “He does not accept them at all in his mind or will.” The first thing is that the beinoni, who has firm control over his thought, speech, and action, does not allow these notions or thoughts to be accepted by his will or his mind. That is the first thing: he “does not accept them at all in his will or mind.” And then he says:

14:00 On the contrary, as he continues there, this is “showing him special affection.” He says even more: when a thought about that friend, that fellow Jew, arises in his mind—even if the thought is true, and he seemingly has reason to be angry or upset with him, G-d forbid—“he does not accept it at all in his mind or will.” On the contrary, “the mind rules and governs the spirit in his heart,” so that he does “the exact opposite: treating his friend with kindness and showing him special affection.” He treats him with special affection. Not only does he give no place to negative thoughts, to bad thoughts about another person, but on the contrary, he treats him “with special affection, making that affection known to him; bearing with him to the utmost and not becoming angry, G-d forbid, and not repaying him in kind.” Even in matters where he might deserve something in return—and even if he thinks so mistakenly—he not only forgives him and does not retaliate, “not repaying him in kind,” but on the contrary, he “repays those who wrong him with kindness.” With that very person who has wronged him, toward whom he must act this way in practice, he not only refrains from retaliating, and not only forgives him, but more than that: he “repays those who wrong him with kindness.” And the Alter Rebbe concludes chapter 12: “This is what we must learn from Yosef and his brothers.” We must learn this from Yosef and his brothers. And by the way, the same question we asked comes up here again: Tanya is a book for beinonim—“For this thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to do it.”

15:33 The question is: How does one reach such a point? How can a person who is not a tzaddik like Yosef Hatzaddik act as he did? The explanation lies in what Yosef Hatzaddik himself explained to his brothers. When we reflect on the depth of the explanation he gave them, we can understand how every Jew, even without being on Yosef Hatzaddik’s level, can use simple faith in Hashem and in Divine Providence to bring himself to the point that, when he has an issue with a friend, not only will he give no place to thoughts of hatred and the like, G-d forbid, and not only will he forgive him wholeheartedly, but on the contrary, he will show him special affection and make it known to him. What is the explanation? We can understand it from another subject that appears later in Tanya, in Igeres Hakodesh. There is a letter there that the Alter Rebbe wrote, a forceful and pointed letter, in Igeres Hakodesh, section 25, to someone who had heard teachings of the Baal Shem Tov. The Alter Rebbe wrote a letter rich in explanation of the Baal Shem Tov’s “words of the sages and their riddles.” And in section 25 of Igeres Hakodesh, he explains in that letter

17:05 fundamental teachings of the Baal Shem Tov. There the Alter Rebbe cites the saying of our Sages: “Whoever becomes angry is as though he worships idols.” And he asks: What does that mean? How can we say that anger is considered idolatry? After all, idolatry is one of the three most severe transgressions, and the gravest of them. How can we say that a person who becomes angry is considered an idolater? What is the connection? The Alter Rebbe says that when a person becomes angry, at that moment his faith is lacking. That is the meaning of “as though he worships idols.” A Jew has simple faith. With that simple faith, as a child of believers descended from believers, he knows that “this palace has an Owner,” that there is a G-d in the world, and that Hakadosh Boruch Hu creates and governs the world. He knows that every detail that occurs in the world comes entirely from Hakadosh Boruch Hu. The Alter Rebbe also explains this more specifically, based on the well-known teaching of the Baal Shem Tov: the Baal Shem Tov explains the verse “Forever, Hashem, Your word stands firm in the heavens” to mean that at every moment Hakadosh Boruch Hu creates every detail anew, even what is in the heavens. Everything that happens in the world receives its life from the word of Hashem, which gives it life at every moment. So everything comes from Hakadosh Boruch Hu

18:32 Himself. And what comes from Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself is certainly entirely good, for “Everything the Merciful One does, He does for the good.” Everything Hakadosh Boruch Hu does, He does for the good; “This, too, is for the good.” Anything that comes from Above—evil has no place Above, and everything is for the good. Even things that appear undesirable, G-d forbid, as explained at length elsewhere in Tanya, contain a hidden, concealed good. On the contrary, they come to elevate a person through his standing up to challenges, and so on, as explained at length in Tanya. If a Jew knows that everything comes from Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself, how can it be that when something undesirable happens to me—someone hurts me, says something harsh to me, causes me financial harm, or even physical harm—I become angry with him? How can I be angry with him when I know that it all comes from Above, from Hakadosh Boruch Hu? At this point the Alter Rebbe asks: Wait, what about the person who did the undesirable thing? He had free choice. He could have chosen not to do it, and he chose to do it. If the choice to do something bad was his, how do we say that it came from Hakadosh Boruch Hu,

19:59 that it was something sent from Above, from Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself? After all, the person who caused the harm had free choice, and he chose to cause it. The Alter Rebbe says: These are two separate matters, two different things. There is what the person who caused the harm must think, and there is what the person who was harmed must think. They are two worlds, two entirely different ways of thinking. From the perspective of the one who caused the harm, the person who did something bad, it is clear and obvious: Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave him free choice, and he could have chosen not to be the agent who did this undesirable thing. After all, Hashem has many agents. Hakadosh Boruch Hu can find many agents; why do you have to be the one to do the undesirable thing? The fact that you chose to do it is wrong, and you must do teshuvah. That is as far as the one who caused the harm is concerned. But the person who was harmed must look at his relationship with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. What happened, the act that was done, though it was an undesirable act, came entirely from Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Hakadosh Boruch Hu sent it to me to refine me, to correct me, and so on. Besides, what Hakadosh Boruch Hu has done is certainly entirely good.

21:18 So how can I be angry? When I am angry with someone, it means there is a lack of faith in me. I think he has power over me, that he can target me and do something undesirable to me. But when a person has simple faith and knows that everything comes from Hakadosh Boruch Hu, it is clear to him that the whole matter comes from Hakadosh Boruch Hu. As the Alter Rebbe relates in Igeres Hakodesh, section 25, there is the example of what happened to King David: when King David fled into exile, Shimi ben Gera, the head of the Sanhedrin, stood there. Shimi ben Gera cursed him bitterly and said harsh, undesirable things. David’s men wanted to strike him and kill him. But King David told them: There is no need to do anything to him, “for Hashem told him to curse.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu sent him. What does it mean that Hakadosh Boruch Hu sent him? Did Hakadosh Boruch Hu command Shimi ben Gera to go and say those things to David? Certainly not. Rather, King David believed plainly, with simple faith, that the word of Hashem, which brings Shimi into being and gives him life at every moment, was vested within him, and that is what enabled Shimi ben Gera to say those things. So it came from Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and if it came

22:36 from Hakadosh Boruch Hu, then it is something to learn from, and it is certainly for the good. When Shimi ben Gera cursed King David, from David’s perspective he was an agent. That is one example: Shimi ben Gera. King David said, “For Hashem told him to curse.” On this basis, the Alter Rebbe says in Tanya: “For Hashem told him to curse David.” But the Alter Rebbe brings out a fundamental point about simple faith here: not only can I not take offense at him, and certainly not take revenge on him, G-d forbid, but on the contrary, when we explain this point to ourselves, we reach the conclusion that we must “repay those who wrong us with kindness.” Why “repay those who wrong us with kindness”? Because if what happened to me is for the good—since I know it is good for my soul and that Hakadosh Boruch Hu sent it to me for my benefit—and that person was the one who did it to me, then he did me a kindness. And if it was a kindness to me, I must remember the kindness he did me. Yosef Hatzaddik explained this reasoning to his brothers. He told them: “You intended evil against me, but G-d intended it for good.” There are two things here. And what was the story, as we find it? Yosef Hatzaddik’s greatness lay in his desire to help his brothers do teshuvah.

23:53 As the Alshich explains, along with other commentators, when the brothers first came to Yosef, he treated them harshly and cried, “You are spies!” Everything the Torah tells us that followed was not meant simply to cause them pain, G-d forbid. Quite the opposite: it was for their good. He wanted them to recognize their sin and make amends, for their own benefit. And indeed, we see that it led them to say, “Indeed, we are guilty,” and to the anguish of teshuvah described in the parsha. So it is clear that Yosef Hatzaddik saw that although “you intended evil against me,” “G-d intended it for good.” The conclusion I have to draw is: “G-d intended it for good.” Hashem wanted precisely to bring good out of it: for the world, so that Yosef Hatzaddik could help people; for the brothers, so that Yosef Hatzaddik could feed them and bring them to Egypt with dignity; and for Yosef himself. That is what “G-d intended it for good” means: through this he became a father to the king and attained his greatness, both materially and spiritually. Through all those troubles, Yosef became such a great tzaddik, and that, too, was thanks to his brothers.

25:14 So not only do I forgive them, and not only can I therefore refrain from doing anything to them, G-d forbid; on the contrary, part of it is to give to them and to feel indebted to them—to “repay those who have wronged us with kindness.” With this, we can understand what the Alter Rebbe says in Tanya. The Alter Rebbe does not mean that every Jew can be on Yosef Hatzaddik’s level. He does not say “to be like Yosef,” but “to learn.” We must learn from Yosef’s explanation. When we consider how events unfolded and see what Yosef explained to his brothers, we find an explanation that every Jew can understand and live by in practice. The same explanation applies when someone does something hurtful to a person in his own life. How can I feel able to forgive him—not merely to forgive, but to forgive wholeheartedly, not to repay him in kind, and more than that, even to “repay those who have wronged us with kindness”? How can one reach that point? By working through this reasoning for myself. “To learn”: I learn from the explanation Yosef gave his brothers. That explanation does not depend on Yosef’s spiritual level; it is a fundamental expression of simple faith that anyone can accept.

26:38 A Jew who lives in this world and suffers knows that everything is directed from Above. But this is the remarkable lesson the Zohar teaches: to learn from Yosef and his brothers. The entire sequence of events, and all the accounts the Torah gives of Yosef and his brothers, are there so that we can draw from them a lesson about what Ahavas Yisroel should be, and how a Jew can refine his character and work on himself. It is not only that he should be free of negative traits such as anger, jealousy, hatred, resentment, and grudges, and the like. On the contrary, all his conduct should be marked by special affection. And we learn this specifically from Yosef Hatzaddik. For this reason, Yosef Hatzaddik is called the Yosef of the entire Jewish people. That is also why Jews are called by the name Yosef, particularly during exile. As it says in Tehillim, chapter 80: “Shepherd of Israel, give ear, You who lead Yosef like a flock.” “You who lead Yosef like a flock” refers to the Jewish people, particularly during exile. What happens to us during exile? We are called by Yosef’s name. For Yosef Hatzaddik was the one who prepared, cared for others, and took action in times of famine, in times of exile. From him, a Jew in exile can also learn how to conduct himself. For, as the Gemara says, the reason for the whole matter of exile

28:08 is the absence of Ahavas Yisroel. The Gemara says in Tractate Yoma that baseless hatred was the cause of the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash. And as the Gemara relates in Tractate Gittin, the Beis Hamikdash was destroyed because of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza. In other words, there was jealousy and hatred [unclear]. And that caused the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash. From this we understand that when we are in exile and want to bring the Geulah into exile, to transform the darkness of exile into Geulah, we must learn from Yosef and his brothers [unclear]. It is not enough for a person to overcome anger, jealousy, and resentment, G-d forbid. More than that, he must repay those who have wronged him with kindness, and learn from Yosef and his brothers how to conduct himself. There is another Midrash on this same subject, a Midrash in Shir Hashirim. The Midrash discusses the verse, “If only You were like a brother to me, nursed at my mother’s breast.” It asks: What are the Jews saying to Hakadosh Boruch Hu? Shir Hashirim is about a bridegroom and a bride. The Jews are the bride, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu is the bridegroom. And the bride says to the bridegroom, the Jewish people say to Hakadosh Boruch Hu: “If only You were like a brother to me”—that Hakadosh Boruch Hu, the bridegroom, would be like a brother “nursed at my mother’s breast.” What does that mean? The Midrash says that the Jews are asking Hakadosh Boruch Hu to treat them as Yosef Hatzaddik treated his brothers. That is, as it was

29:38 with Yosef Hatzaddik. With Yosef Hatzaddik, “they did him harm, and he did them good.” They did not treat him as they should have, and he treated them well. This includes every aspect: First, Yosef Hatzaddik held no resentment toward them at all. Second, he forgave them. Third, he revealed the deeper truth: that the very wrongdoing was meant to lead to good later on. In this way, he transformed the bad into good. So Yosef’s conduct was not limited to forgiving them wholeheartedly; he also gave to them with special affection, and even “comforted them and spoke to their hearts.” The Jews say all this to Hakadosh Boruch Hu: “If only You were like a brother to me,” like Yosef was to his brothers. Even though we have not behaved as we should [unclear], Hakadosh Boruch Hu should see what lies within. For a Jew’s innermost self truly [unclear] the Divine will. And even if a Jew fails to fulfill the Divine will, nevertheless [unclear] Hakadosh Boruch Hu intended it for good. For when a Jew does teshuvah, light gains an added advantage from the darkness. Those who have done teshuvah [unclear]—“In the place where those who have done teshuvah stand, even the completely righteous cannot stand.” And through teshuvah, as the Gemara says, “his deliberate sins become like merits.” That is the whole point of “G-d intended it for good”: that, at a deeper level, this brings us to [unclear].

31:03 And so the Jews say to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, “If only You were like a brother to me”—that Hakadosh Boruch Hu should treat the Jews as Yosef treated his brothers: not only did he bear them no grudge, but he forgave them wholeheartedly [unclear]. On the contrary, he showed them affection and repaid them with kindness. May Hakadosh Boruch Hu treat the Jews in the same way. But measure for measure: to ask this of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, we too must conduct ourselves with compassion. And compassion at its fullest means forgiving wholeheartedly. This is what we must learn from Yosef Hatzaddik: to repay those who have wronged us with kindness. Precisely through this, we can come and ask Hakadosh Boruch Hu—and ask with full force—that He be “like a brother to me,” that Hakadosh Boruch Hu pardon and forgive the Jews, and [unclear], that the Jews should have only good. Good both materially and spiritually; that the darkness of exile should finally end completely; and that we should merit the complete Geulah. As it says in the parsha, “The scepter shall not depart from Yehudah ... and to him shall the peoples gather.” May we merit the complete Geulah through Moshiach Tzidkeinu, speedily in our days.