Shalom Chaverim (friends), 

As I return from an emotional CJP solidarity mission to Israel, this week’s Torah portion, Vayigash, feels deeply meaningful, even haunting.

It opens with the climax of the Joseph story and contains, in my opinion, one of the most moving monologues in the Bible, perhaps in all Western literature. Joseph’s brothers still do not recognize Joseph, who has thrown their younger brother, Benjamin, into jail and promised to enslave him for stealing Joseph’s goblet (which was planted by Joseph as part of an elaborate setup to entrap the brothers).

Judah, the brother who has been through a personal, moral transformation since they threw Joseph into the pit and lied to their father about him being dead, steps forward. Having pledged to his father not to return from Egypt without Benjamin, Judah pleads with Joseph to free Benjamin and even offers himself in exchange for his younger brother. Though he doesn’t use these words, after generations of sibling rivalry and dysfunction in the Book of Genesis, it’s as if Judah is saying, finally: “I am my brother’s keeper.”

The speech and this scene feel especially poignant when I reflect on our recent mission to Israel. Upon arriving at Ben Gurion Airport, we were met with posters of the hostages lining the walls of the terminals. We began our whole trip at the Hostages and Missing Families Forum headquarters sitting with a mother and a grandson of hostages, who emphasized: until their loved ones are back, it is still October 7, 2023.

We witnessed the spirit and resilience of Israelis who are still fighting for their survival, who are courageously facing the traumas of the past 15 months, and who are striving to imagine a better future — for Israelis, Palestinians, and the whole region. We lit Hanukkah candles with young soldiers and sang songs with older evacuees from hard-hit communities in the North. We discussed the social and political complexities that Israel is facing as it wrestles with the challenges ahead, both from without and from within. We walked through the beautiful, holy streets of the Old City of Jerusalem and we welcomed Shabbat with a religiously diverse community of Israeli young adults who are reimagining substantive, vibrant Jewish life for themselves and Israeli society. There is so much in Israel to be inspired by, as always.

Yesterday, right after I landed here in Boston, I saw a brief video that brought me back to this week’s Torah portion. Why, the teacher asked, are we named Jews (in Hebrew, Yehudim) after the brother Judah (Yehudah) and not named Josephites or Reubenites (after Joseph or Reuben)? There are many historical answers to this question, but she tied it back to Judah’s speech, his model of courageous moral leadership, and the responsibility he takes for himself and his brother.

We are named for a brother who has many moral failings and makes significant mistakes, yet who goes through a process of self-reflection and ultimately takes responsibility for his own failings. We are named for a brother who embodies the Jewish moral and spiritual idea of arevut, that we are bound up with and collectively responsible for one another. He literally says to both his father and to Joseph, “take my life for Benjamin’s.” I will not be complete, this family will not be complete, if he does not return home safely.

Perhaps this is the reason so many synagogues read the names of every hostage and pray for their return every Shabbat, some every day. Perhaps this is the reason we cannot take the signs out of our windows, even those of the hostages we know are no longer alive. Perhaps this is the reason, according to recent polling, the majority of Israelis say that the top priority of their government and their leaders should be to free the hostages.

It is incomprehensible that it has been 455 days. There is so much to be grateful for, so much important work to do, and we will not give up hope. We will also remember that we, too, are not complete while our brothers, sisters, parents, grandparents, children, grandchildren, and fellow citizens are still in captivity. Bring them home, now.