“Blessed are those who uphold justice and act righteously at all times”

Over the past two years, the names of the hostages – children, elderly people, and infants – have been constantly on our lips. People we had never known became close to us; we followed the stories of their lives, their dreams, and those they loved. We ached and wept with their families and joined in their cries. Their names sharpened for us the meaning of a name in the story of our people. Thankfully, the living hostages have already returned to their homes and families, yet the names of all the hostages, both the living and those who were killed, which remain in our hearts, represent the supreme value of human life.

As an educator, I was already a “zealot for names” back in my years working in the school system. It was important to me to know every student, each boy and each girl, by name already in the first week of the school year. I invested all my energy and strength in this. I came to realize that the process of learning names redeems us from anonymity and helps minimize the experience of alienation and meaninglessness that we encounter in many frameworks.

Parashat Vayechi concludes the Book of Genesis, a book of promises and dreams, of wanderings, jealousy, and reconciliation, of a family that becomes a nation. It does not end with redemption, but with death: Jacob dies, Joseph dies, and the children of Israel remain in Egypt. This is an ending that is not a solution, but a transition point. A place where a decision must be made: whether to cling to the past or lay the foundation for the future.

In his final moments, Jacob blesses his sons. The blessings are not comforting compliments, but a precise combination of truth and kindness. Truth that does not obscure violence, jealousy, and brokenness; and kindness that does not give up on the belief that human beings, in all their complexity, can change. This is how partnership is built, and this is how a nation is built: not through denial, but through courageously walking together with kindness and truth.

We too are at such a moment. The recently concluded crowdfunding campaign was a resounding success. Many chose to contribute, share, and stand by our side. This is living proof of the power of a broad community, and of the fact that this work is meaningful, compelling, and inspires trust. For this, we are deeply grateful

Chapter 46. Joseph is petrified. Suddenly he asks himself: Why did I commit to this? Have I lost my mind? Who am I to make such decisions? Wait, wait… let’s take a step back. What are we talking about?

As we recall, at the beginning of Parashat Vayigash, Joseph is deeply moved by Judah’s speech. He bursts into tears, embraces his brothers, and in a surge of enthusiasm invites his father and his entire family—seventy souls—to come live in Egypt. He even specifies a particular place: “So, it was not you who sent me here, but God—who has made me a father to Pharaoh, lord of all his household, and ruler over the whole land of Egypt. “Now, hurry back to my father and say to him: Thus says your son Joseph, ‘God has made me lord of all Egypt; come down to me without delay. You will dwell in the region of Goshen, where you will be near me—you and your children and your grandchildren, your flocks and herds, and all that is yours. There I will provide for you—for there are yet five years of famine to come—that you and your household and all that is yours may not suffer want.” (Gensis, 45:8-11).