Parshas Vayigash 5786 - Internalizing Empathy

In this week’s parsha, we reach the conclusion of the dramatic story of Yosef and his brothers. Yosef finally reveals his identity and brings his entire family down to Egypt, where he is able to sustain them during the years of famine. The Torah describes Yosef’s care for his family as follows:

“Yosef sustained his father and his brothers and all of his father’s household with food, according to the children.” (Bereishis 47:12)

The verse seems repetitive. We are already told that Yosef provided food for his entire family—why does the Torah add that he did so “according to the children”?

Rashi explains that Yosef was careful to provide only what was necessary for each family member, including the children, who often desire more food than they truly need. Yosef ensured that no one received more than what was appropriate.

This explanation is puzzling. Yosef was in charge of Egypt’s food supply during the famine. He fed not only the Egyptians, but also people from other lands who came seeking sustenance. Surely he could have provided his own family with an abundance of the finest food, befitting the household of Pharaoh’s viceroy. Why did he deliberately limit their provisions?

Seforno explains that it would have been improper for Yosef to indulge his family while the broader population was suffering. He cites the Talmud’s teaching:“When the community is in distress, a person should not say, ‘I will go home and eat and drink, and all will be well with me.’” (Taanis 11a)

The Talmud teaches that one must not enjoy personal comfort while remaining indifferent to the suffering of others. It goes even further, warning that one who does so is subject to severe punishment, as the prophet Isaiah declares: “Surely this iniquity shall not be atoned for you until you die.” (Isaiah 22:14)

At first glance, this response seems extreme. The individual who eats and drinks privately does not cause anyone else to suffer. Why should such behavior warrant so harsh a judgment?

The answer lies in the nature of derech eretz. Sensitivity to others is not an optional pious trait reserved for the exceptionally righteous; it is a foundational requirement of being human. One who is unmoved by the suffering of others has failed to meet even the basic standard of moral conduct. On a Divine level, such a person has distanced himself from the very purpose of human existence.

The Rif adds that the opposite is also true: one who shares in the suffering of the community merits to share in its redemption. He illustrates this from the battle with Amalek. (Shemos 17:8–13). When Moshe Rabbeinu raised his hands to inspire the people, his arms grew weary and he sat down on a rock. Although he could have sat on something soft, Moshe chose the rock, saying that if the people were suffering, he would suffer with them. (Rif on Taanis 11a).

Yosef and Moshe both teach us that Hashem expects us to act with derech eretz: to restrain our personal comfort when others are in pain and to remain sensitive to the needs of the community.

When we internalize derech eretz in this manner, we will merit to see the day when Hashem finally removes all suffering from the Jewish people and brings lasting peace to the world.