Parashat Vayigash
Proximity & Repair
Even if we are unable to fully fix
what's broken, we can begin to make a difference by stepping forward.
By Rabbi Elliot Rose Kukla
This
commentary is provided by special arrangement with American Jewish World
Service. To learn more, visit www.ajws.org.
In my work as a hospital chaplain, I am
often privileged to accompany people in the last days of their lives or the
lives of their loved ones. I recently spent a long night with Mark, a
middle-aged man who had camped out in the waiting room outside his mother's hospital room. The doctors had withdrawn
artificial forms of life support and she was expected to pass away within
hours.
Mark
had paid for his mother to have the very best health care during the last
months of her life, but he had not actually visited her in person. He had not
seen her face or held her hand for over ten years. That night, Mark refused to
leave the building, but he was also unwilling to actually open the door to his
mother's room, despite
pressure from the hospital staff to say goodbye.
As
we talked, it became clear to me that what was stopping Mark was not just his
unresolved relationship with his mother, but also a sense of being overwhelmed.
"It's already too late," he said. "She
can't speak or
understand me. How can we fix anything now?"
Out of fear of doing too little, Mark chose to do nothing at all.
This
week's Torah portion
offers a very different image of the human capacity to take steps toward
healing, even in the face of seemingly overwhelming tragedy. In our parashah, Joseph is reunited with his brothers
who, years earlier, had sold him into slavery. Despite the weight of this
shared history, the brothers do not try to repair the mistakes of the past.
They mostly just hold each other and weep.
Joseph
is brief in his words to the brothers who betrayed him, "Now, don't
be distressed or reproach yourselves because you sold me here," says Joseph. "It was to save lives that God sent me
ahead of you [to provide a refuge from famine.]"
Despite the power of these words, they cannot heal the wounds of the past for
they do not address the underlying injustice of the situation. Still, Joseph's words have a profound impact--they bring the family closer together.
Let Us Draw Near
The
name of our parashah points to this vision of moving toward
action in the face of deep-seated wrongs that feel insurmountable. Vayigash means to draw near. The Torah
is teaching us that to move in the direction of repairing relationships is
literally to move toward one another. Even if we are unable to fully meet, to
fully fix what's broken, we
can begin to make a difference by stepping forward.
When
I think about my relationship with my brothers and sisters in the Global South,
I sometimes feel like Mark--trapped and
frozen outside his mother's hospital door--feeling that the injustices that have
been done are too big for me to fix. When I receive donation envelopes in the
mail reminding me about the vast needs for food, medicine, shelter, and basic safety that billions of people are
lacking due to systemic
inequalities--I
feel paralyzed.
For
many years this sense of being overwhelmed led me to engage exclusively in
local political organizing and to not even educate myself about global issues.
Yet, in 2006, I traveled to El Salvador with AJWS'
Rabbinical Students' Delegation. I
was struck by the hospitality of the people in our host community who invited
me to draw closer to them and take part in their lives. As I listened to
stories of their struggles against violence and hopelessness after years of
economic repression and civil war, I realized that I could no longer stand
outside the "hospital door."
Vayigash offers a
Jewish approach to global justice work--let
us draw near. The divide of inequality between the Global North and the Global
South may not be bridged in our lifetimes, but we can draw nearer to the people
and the issues most impacted by global poverty and racism. We can draw near by
educating ourselves, by being involved in advocacy efforts, and by supporting grassroots community
development projects.
During
this week of Parashat Vayigash, the week of drawing near, may we not be
like my patient Mark, frozen outside the door. May we let go of the fear of
doing too little that often leads us to do nothing at all. May we have faith
that drawing a bit closer to other people, even if it is only one step, is the
first step toward changing the world.
Rabbi Elliot
Rose Kukla is an activist, writer, organizer, and educator.