Parshat Vayigash focuses on the reconciliation between Yosef and his brothers, orchestrated by Yehuda. The past two parshiyot have chronicled the deep rift within the family. But now, after betrayal, resentment and years of silence, Yehuda and Yosef each assume the necessary responsibility to bring about reunification. Yehuda acknowledges his role in selling Yosef into slavery. Yosef, instead of continuing to play cat and mouse with his brothers, tearfully reveals his identity to his brothers and inquires after their father’s fate. This willingness of mutual acceptance of responsibility to restore broken relationships lies at the heart of this week’s parsha, and is a cornerstone of modern redemption itself.
The same theme is reflected in this week’s haftara. Yechezkel’s prophecy in chapter 37 describes how two trees, representing the divided biblical kingdoms of Yisrael and Yehuda, will one day be grafted together and become one. The connection to the parsha’s call for unity is clear. However, many miss the interesting detail that this prophecy is immediately preceded by Yechezkel’s famous vision of the dry bones, the haunting description of a vast army of bones miraculously restored, which we read as the haftara of Shabbat Chol Hamoed Pesach. That earlier vision is a powerful allegory of national resurrection after apparent destruction.
Paying attention to the juxtaposition of these two prophecies reveals the conceptual connection between them. National revival is not enough. If we are committed to realizing the promise of the Jewish people to be redeemed – as symbolized by the vision of the dry bones – we must also shoulder the responsibility of forging unity from fragmentation. Only by confronting our differences and working together can we move from survival to renewal, from scattered bones to a living, breathing Jewish people animated by spirit.
In our own lifetimes, and in those of our parents and grandparents, we have witnessed the resurrection of the dry bones. We have seen the ashes of Auschwitz giving rise to the miracle that is the State of Israel. Even in the past two years, through trauma, loss, and uncertainty, the Jewish people have survived. But endurance is not the final goal. What must follow is a renewed sense of unity. The trees of Yehuda and Yosef must mutually accept responsibility, make sacrifices, and choose to come together.
And so, as I read this haftara, I find myself asking difficult questions. Are we capable of this kind of unity? Can we truly achieve this goal of being one, despite our different perspectives and deep disagreements? Can I learn to live alongside my Haredi brothers and sisters, whom I feel have failed us by not fully sharing the collective burden by serving in the army, yet whom I still recognize as family? Can I find a common ground with Jews around the world who do not view the State of Israel with the same centrality that I do? Redemption demands that I take responsibility for my relationships with my fellow Jews, even when that might require compromise or restraint.
The final stage of redemption is not just sovereignty or survival. It is a state of shared purpose and mutual acceptance. This is the vision of our haftara, as prefigured in our parsha. If we are truly invested in achieving this vision, each of us must seek ways to reach across divides, to listen, to forgive, and to build our future together. We may come in a myriad of colors, but we are all threads in the same majestic tapestry.