Parashat Va-Yiggash by Tim Motz, LBC rabbinical student
My first year of rabbinic studies was spent in Jerusalem. Since I first visited as a six-year-old, I have found the city enchanting in ways which will be familiar to many: the winding streets of the Old City; the mix of Jewish sights familiar and foreign; the panoply of religions, cultures and languages; the millennia of history piled on top of each other, often literally. And, during subsequent visits, I have become alive to the complexity of Jerusalem. The religiousness of its society is a real challenge to my more secular instincts; the frequent separation of Jews, Muslims and others, regardless of politics and safety concerns, is tragic; violence is frequent.
Amongst the pain there are stubborn glimmers of hope. I am inspired by the Israelis, Palestinians, and others who work against huge pressures to improve the difficult world around them. I am particularly touched by my European and American friends who see from afar an Israeli society that troubles them, and who, instead of shying away, choose to make aliyah and work to make Israel better. I draw hope from the ideals of my great-grandparents, Dominik and Amalia Wiesner, Zionists with a hope of building a utopian society in Palestine. And yet, as a British Jew writing from a sofa in London, it often feels nigh on impossible for me personally to have direct influence; I can comment, hold opinions, but not always much more.
This Shabbat we read the portion of Vayiggash. It is the climax of the remarkable story of Joseph, weeks after we started it, Joseph, the favourite child of his father, was thrown into a pit by his jealous brothers, and sold into Egyptian slavery. In this week’s reading, we will reach a point of familial reconciliation. Joseph has become ruler in Egypt, second only to Pharaoh himself. From a position of power he has first toyed with his brothers, seeking respite in Egypt from a devastating famine, by hiding a goblet in the luggage of his youngest brother Benjamin. But today, after threatening them, and after a passionate speech from his older brother Judah, Joseph finally reveals himself to his family, many years after they were separated. Joseph is particularly emotional about his reunions with Benjamin and with his father, Jacob: his first question after revealing himself is to ask ‘does my father live?’
From this point on in the narrative, the children of Israel are reunited. Together they move to Egypt to farm the rich lands of Goshen; together they are taken into slavery; together they receive Torah at Sinai and return to the land of Canaan.
But there are many differences between the siblings. They have different mothers – some are born to the servants Bilhah and Zilpah; others to Jacob’s wives Leah and Rachel. The siblings have different characters and roles: Joseph will remain closest to his Benjamin; Reuben was the one who wanted to persuade his brothers not to kill Joseph; it was Judah who proposed selling him. By contrast, other brothers play notably little role in the Torah text; they almost fade into the background.
Today, our Jewish community is even more varied than Jacob’s children. We children of Israel speak many languages and are dispersed across the world; some have louder voices than others.
But once every five years, each one of us has a vote that genuinely can affect the whole of the Jewish people: during the election of the World Zionist Congress (WZC), which influences politics and funding in Israel and the Diaspora. The election is a moment when we all have an equal voice: one vote for each Jew, anywhere in the world.
Regardless of our relationship to Israel – even if we are apathetic – the existing system gives us all a vote. Like any democratic vote, I believe it should not be wasted. It is a chance to say what values should be held by a powerful, well-funded part of the Jewish body politic. An unused vote strengthens those factions who already have power
Liberal delegates in the WZC help fight discrimination in Israel, protecting democracy and values like gender equality and LGBTQ+ rights. They help prevent the aliyah process becoming more discriminatory, so that it’s not just Orthodox Jews who have the option to move to Israel. They make sure that funding goes to liberal institutions like the Conservative Yeshiva – where I studied in Jerusalem – and not just segregates yeshivas and seminaries.
The election next spring will determine the make-up of the WZC’s next body of delegates, making decisions about how to allocate over $1 billion annually. Britain’s Reform and Liberal movements, along with their sister movements in other countries, are represented in the WZC by Arzenu; Masorti is represented by Mercaz. They sit in the same bloc, helping push for an equal and tolerant Israel.
In recent elections, political and religious extremists have upped their game, and succeeded in getting out the vote. In order to protect our values, we should do the same – we should all vote.
In order to take part, look out for information from your community in the coming months. First, you’ll need to register as a voter. Then, at a later date, you’ll need to go back and cast your vote. It can all be done online.
The portion of Vayiggash teaches us about the complex relationships between Joseph and his siblings, the other children of Israel. They are family, bound together by deep, inescapable bonds. This week sees their joyful reunion; beforehand they caused each other much pain. Judah and Reuben spoke up for justice; other siblings allowed wicked things to happen; others remained silent.
The complex world of Jewish politics is not so different. Whether we like it or not, we have a vote, a voice. Let us be like Judah and Reuben, speaking up for tolerance, by voting for representatives that share our values. Let us not remain silent, because then we allow the narrative to be written around us.