Yosef has backed his brothers into a corner – just the corner he wants them in.  He has framed his full-brother Binyamin by planting his precious chalice in Binyamin’s bag.  Having then searched their bags and found the cup, he claims Binyamin the thief as a slave.  The brothers will now have to go back to Ya’akov their father without Binyamin – Ya’akov’s favorite son in Yosef’s absence.  This is simply not an option for them.

But the brothers have no recourse.  They are foreigners, suspected of espionage, powerless against the most powerful man in Egypt.  Yehuda approaches Yosef (who is still in disguise) knowing that he must save Binyamin, his father and his family.  But really, there is nothing he can do to force Yosef’s hand.  He has no leverage at all.

Is there another option?

Yehuda’s story

Yehuda, the leader among his brothers, begins to spin a yarn.  He tells Yosef the story from the beginning: how Yosef had demanded to know whether they had another brother; how they had told him, but warned him of the close bond between their father and this brother; how Yosef had demanded to see him anyway; how they had gone to tell their father, and asked permission to bring Binyamin down to Egypt; how Ya’akov had refused, owing to their strong bond; how Ya’akov had finally relented, allowing them to take Binyamin; how Ya’akov would react  if they came back without Binyamin.  Then Yehuda pulls out his ace in the hole: ‘And I did offer myself as a guarantor of the child’s return.  Please take me in his place as a servant to my master, so that the child may go home to his father.’  At this, Yosef breaks: ‘I am Yosef!  Is my father still alive?’

What did Yehuda do that was so effective?  While his gesture of taking responsibility for Binyamin was a beautiful one, why was this the piece that finally led to Yosef’s revelation?  Yehuda recognized that he could not break Yosef.  He might not even be able to solve the problem and bring Binyamin home.  But he had to say his piece – not because it would do anything, but for his own integrity’s sake.

Yehuda has been struggling with issues of responsibility entire life.  He was now able to express ultimate responsibility, even taking responsibility in a situation the he ultimately bore no direct responsibility for.  He had also spent his life blaming others for the bad turns in the life of his family – but now he no longer resorted to blame as he had when he blamed his daughter-in-law Tamar for the death of his two sons.  He had always felt comfortable being an innocent bystander in his family’s unfolding drama.  But this time he took center stage where he knew he belonged.  He had always made decisions to further his own chances of survival and success, without regard to the larger moral implications.  But this time he came to recognize that leadership comes with a moral imperative.

Before Yosef’s very eyes, Yehuda shed his many masks – not because he thought it would ‘work’ but because he had to, for his own integrity.  And, somehow, it did ‘work’ -  Yosef felt he had no choice but to remove his disguise as well.

What happened?  A deep and mysterious law of the universe came into play:  authenticity breeds authenticity.  Integrity breeds integrity.  Letting go of ego and shame brings a similar reaction in others.  We change each other only by changing ourselves.  We can only open each other by allowing ourselves to open up.

Even this mechanism cannot be ‘used’.  I cannot open myself up so that you will let up, or let go of my ego so that you will let go of yours.  But it happens to be that, to the extent that the motives are pure, an amazing mirror-reaction happens.

How ironic and delightful!  Oftentimes the only thing we can do to get each other to open up is to genuinely open ourselves up.  The only hope we have that each other’s defenses will be let down is by letting our own defenses down.  (And even then it might not happen.)

This bespeaks the depth of the relationship, the true interrelatedness and co-mingling of destiny that we find only in the most committed and serious relationships – marriage, family, master and student, close friends.  It also manifests in our relationship to G-d Himself: ‘anyone who desists from judging others is forgiven for all of his sins’ – meaning, when we forgive we are forgiven.

The locus of work

So should we ever hope to see each other change?  Or is our focus always entirely on ourselves?  The answer is more about expectations than about particular tactics.  We do ‘work on each other’ – we offer each other feedback, directly and indirectly.  We offer honesty, hopefully interlaced with love and compassion.  Sometimes it is effective, and sometimes it is not.  But we cannot demand and should not require that our gift be received. We do not depend our happiness and the deepening of the relationship on someone else changing.  To whatever extent possible we  accept the work that we must do rather than making lists of the work someone else has to do.  And we do it not because we think it will make change happen but because we have to.  Our integrity is one the line.

We open for ourselves, because we have to.  We hope it will bring opening in our others, but we do not require it.  We hope the relationship will improve accordingly, but we do not require it.  We willingly accept on ourselves our part of the workload.   And if the relationship should reach a point where the discrepancy of the workload is too great, then perhaps the relationship must end.  But we cannot leave this stone unturned.