Hail Yosef, the Chief... Crier?

Parshat Miketz

by Rabbi Avi Billet 

Of all the people we meet in the Torah, Yosef is credited with crying the most times. In one form or another, he cries at least 8 times, and one of those times he is crying on each of his brothers (which might count as 10 additional cries). See 42:23-24, 43:30, 45:2-3, 45:14-15, 46:29, 50:1, 50:17. 

In Miketz he cries twice when seeing his brothers; first when he hears of how his brothers saw his disappearance and absence, and their remorse (or lack of it) over how that panned out, second when he initially sets his eyes on Binyamin. 

Prior to Yosef setting the record, Avraham cried at Sarah’s funeral. The three times the word ויבך (“and he cried”) appeared in the Torah were when Eisav cried to his father to give him a blessing, when Yaakov cried upon meeting Rachel, and the vague ויבך אתו אביו – which either implies that Yaakov cried for Yosef after being presented with Yosef’s torn coat, or that Yitzchak cried for Yaakov, knowing that Yosef was alive, but being unable to tell him (Rashi, many midrashim). Some Midrashim imply that Yitzchak put on a show of crying when in Yaakov’s presence, but he was otherwise fine, knowing Yosef’s journey was ordained by God. ויבכו (and they cried) appears when Yaakov and Eisav meet up in Vayishlach, and when the Egyptians mourn for the deceased Yaakov. Later on, we will see Bnei Yisrael cry a number of times in the wilderness (11:4 asking for meat, 14:1 over the report of the spies), including their crying for 30 days over the deaths of Aharon and Moshe respectively. (Bamidbar 20:29, Devarim 34:8). 

 It’s hard to pinpoint a reason for crying, or for the Torah’s emphasizing these cries specifically. Clearly Yosef is a chip off his father, but people cry for different reasons – as we all know. 

 Is it just that Yosef wears his emotions on his sleeve? Is he overtaken by the brothers returning to his life? Is he crying because his dreams are being fulfilled? Is the concept of reuniting with family overwhelming him? Is he crying because of the specific things that are going on in the moment (hearing his brothers discuss how they treated him, seeing Binyamin for the first time in 22 years)? Could it be something else? 

On the first cry, Rashi suggests he heard they regretted what they had done to him. [Radak counts this as a kind of Vidui – a confession of sorts]. Seforno is even more kind noting that he cried because he saw them distressed! The Maharal makes a distinction between seeing and appreciating their regret and feeling their pain. If he was crying over feeling their pain, he’d have cried when he put them in prison! Alshikh says he needed to get a good cry out so he could move on from the feelings he may have harbored, and continue the mission he had devised for himself. 

 When he saw Binyamin for the first time, the Pesikta describes his wanting to cry as teaching us “that crying extinguishes the coal of the heart.” In other words, Yosef had demons and devils that he needed to get over, and crying was therapeutic for him. Another approach is that he asked Binyamin how many children he had, Binyamin answered “Ten, and they are all named after my brother Yosef.” As he went on to explain each of their names, Yosef was overwhelmed with emotion. (Midrashim, R Chaim Paltiel, and the Maharal goes into this in great detail in Gur Aryeh 43:30) 

In an article on this subject, Rabbi Avrohom Gordimer suggested the following: (see “The Tears of Joseph, the Tears of Greatness”) 

Yosef's tears reflected his deep perception of events, in terms of their emotional, spiritual and destiny-related significance. When one is moved to tears, it is often because he at that moment relates to profound realms that lie beyond the natural senses. The powerful messages and currents that run far beneath the surface and that transcend the here and now are only perceived by a select few, and upon such perception, people are often moved to tears, as they detect and are stirred by something so profound, not noticed by others. 

 Yosef was such a person, as his very existence was well beyond the present, surpassing and eclipsing the natural world in every way. Whether it was Yosef's own dreams, his interpretation of the dreams of others, his inexplicable ascendancy in the house of Potiphar, in jail and in Pharaoh's government, his clairvoyance in terms of the Egyptian famine and how to overcome it, his prescient understanding of why his brothers sold him - knowing that it was all part of Hashem's master plan to save the Jewish People - as well as his keen and prophetic vision about the future Redemption from Egypt (Mitzrayim), Yosef's mind, heart and soul existed on an elevated plane, far above that of the natural order and day-to-day life. 

Yosef's perception of an infinitely deeper and higher inner significance of all that was transpiring was reflected by his tears, as mere words could not express matters adequately, and Yosef's unique realization of the underlying and piercing spiritual drama that was occurring via him gripped him acutely and stirred him to cry. 

 This is certainly a profound way to look at Yosef, as an individual going through turbulent times personally, and the roller coaster of ups-and-downs that defined his life since being sent down to Egypt. 

But I think that more obviously, starting with Yaakov, from whom Yosef inherited his tear ducts, the crying is a way of noting turning points that are leading to the path of slavery that was promised to Avraham. 

Yaakov crying when he met Rachel could have been for many reasons. But perhap intuitively he knew: she wouldn’t live long, she’d only have 2 children, one of those children would be instrumental in bringing the family to the place where slavery will happen. And Yaakov won’t be buried with her – she’ll be alone on a road “to cry over her children.” 

Perhaps there was a time when Yaakov felt “Maybe Eisav will share in our destiny.” But Eisav’s 400 men was a way of indicating “You can take Avraham’s 400 years. I’ll stick with my 400 men.” The crying was a way of indicating, the path for your family’s slavery is paved. There’s no getting out of it – even if you left Lavan’s house, the slavery will happen elsewhere. 

Yosef’s cries, therefore, can come at times when he realizes a. that the family is worth saving as they have regret over whatever happened at the time of his sale 22 years earlier, b. Binyamin wasn’t told horrible things about Yosef. Binyamin understands that he has had to live for Yosef, and Yosef seeing that helps him understand that in his family’s eyes, he is not dead. 

In Vayigash, when it will be revealed to Yosef that his father has actually been thinking that Yosef is dead, he cries again, realizing that the need to bring the family to Egypt to watch over them, is on the one hand a fulfillment of his dreams, but perhaps more dramatically, it’s the final step to get Bnei Yisrael to the place where slavery will be taking place – even if that is over 90 years away from now.

 He will tell them “You did not send me here. God did.” But for people who are seeing the writing on the wall that their children or grandchildren will be slaves – that is too much to handle. 

Through all of this, Yosef is seeing God’s Hand in orchestrating his own rise, his ability to save his family, but also the inevitable outcome that is this: Yosef’s position in Egypt is setting the stage for his family to come to Egypt, the land that was hinted to Avraham as being the place where they will be strangers who will become enslaved. Every time he cries in the presence of his father and brothers, he sees them as one step closer to slavery – THAT is why Yosef cries. Because he’s been there. He’s done that. And he doesn’t want that for the descendants of Avraham, Yitzchak, and his father Yaakov. 

We all have personal, and relatively small reasons to cry. Do we cry over the fate of our people?