Do we truly have free will? And what dors it mean that God descends into exile with us? Parsaht Vayigash

 Do We Truly Have Free Will? And What Does It Mean That God "Descends" Into Exile With Us?

In this week's parsha, Vayigash, a profound mystery unfolds when Yosef reveals himself to his brothers. He declares (Bereishit 45:7-8):

וַיִּשְׁלָחֵ֤נִי אֱלֹהִים֙ לִפְנֵיכֶ֔ם לָשׂ֥וּם לָכֶ֛ם שְׁאֵרִ֖ית בָּאָ֑רֶץ וּלְהַחֲי֣וֹת לָכֶ֔ם לִפְלֵיטָ֖ה גְּדֹלָֽה׃

"God sent me before you to make for you a remnant in the land, and to preserve life for you, that there be many survivors."

וְעַתָּ֗ה לֹֽא־אַתֶּ֞ם שְׁלַחְתֶּ֤ם אֹתִי֙ הֵ֔נָּה כִּ֖י הָאֱלֹהִ֑ים וַיְשִׂימֵ֨נִֽי לְאָ֜ב לְפַרְעֹ֗ה וּלְאָדוֹן֙ לְכׇל־בֵּית֔וֹ וּמֹשֵׁ֖ל בְּכׇל־אֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרָֽיִם׃

"And now, it was not you who sent me here, but God; He set me as father to Paroh and master of all his house, and ruler throughout all of the land of Egypt."

These words are startling. After all, it was the brothers who sold Yosef into slavery. It was Yosef's own choices—his integrity in Potiphar's house, his interpretation of dreams—that propelled him from prison to palace. So what is Yosef truly saying? Is he denying human free will (bechirah chofshit), suggesting we are mere puppets in God's grand design?

Later in the parsha, God appears to Yaakov in a night vision, reassuring him about the descent to Egypt (Bereishit 46:4):

אָנֹכִ֗י אֵרֵ֤ד עִמְּךָ֙ מִצְרַ֔יְמָה וְאָנֹכִ֖י אַֽעַלְךָ֣ גַם־עָלֹ֑ה וְיוֹסֵ֕ף יָשִׁ֥ית יָד֖וֹ עַל־עֵינֶֽיךָ׃

"I will go down to Egypt with you and I will also surely bring you up, and Yosef will set his hands upon your eyes."

Judaism emphatically rejects any notion of God having a physical form or descending literally into the world. So what does this divine "descent" mean? It powerfully echoes Yaakov's earlier dream of the ladder, with angels—messengers of God—ascending and descending, symbolizing an unbroken connection between heaven and earth.

Remarkably, these two puzzles share a single, profound resolution—one that illuminates the Jewish understanding of free will, divine providence (hashgachah), and how we carry God's presence into exile.

The Rambam, in Moreh Nevuchim 2:48, unveils a mind-expanding principle: Every event in the universe traces back through a chain of causes to the ultimate First Cause—God Himself. Prophets and the Torah therefore often attribute events directly to God as the ultimate source, even when intermediate causes (natural laws, chance, or human choices) are at play.

With unusual urgency, the Rambam urges readers to pay closer attention here than anywhere else in the Guide. He illustrates this using Yosef's story twice:

- For voluntary human choices: Yosef's words, "It was not you who sent me here, but God" (45:8).

- For chance events: "God sent me before you" (45:7).

Free will is not illusory—it is part of God's creation—yet every choice and its consequences ultimately trace back to the First Cause. Yosef wasn't absolving his brothers of responsibility; he was inviting them to see the bigger picture: Their freely chosen actions, painful as they were, became threads in a divine tapestry that preserved the family.

This perspective brings deep comfort: Even wrongdoing, when viewed through the lens of the First Cause, can be redirected toward redemption.

The key to God's promise "I will go down with you to Egypt" lies in this same idea—but with a transformative twist.

In Moreh Nevuchim 1:27, the Rambam explains anthropomorphic language like "descending," and in Yaakov's prophetic dream, the literal wording is retained because it is visionary imagery. More profoundly, divine "descent" into exile is not God literally accompanying us in a physical sense. Rather, hashgachah—divine providence—is our human recognition that everything traces back to the First Cause.

It is we who "take God with us" into exile through this elevated consciousness: by perceiving all events as ultimately rooted in God, and by actively choosing to imitate His ways (chesed, truth, justice) even in darkness.

This is the fulfillment of Yaakov's ladder vision. There, the angels (or "men of God," as some interpretations render) ascended first—representing the soul's upward journey in contemplation, grasping the esoteric truth that all reality flows from the First Cause. Only then did they descend, carrying that sublime understanding back into the world.

Now, as Yaakov and his family descend to the depths of Egypt—the epitome of impurity and materialism—they embody that descent of the ladder. They take the profound insight received in the Land of Israel, this esoteric worldview of tracing everything back to God and living in imitation of His attributes, down with them into exile. In doing so, they transform galut itself, ensuring that divine providence remains with them—not as an external force coming down, but as an inner light they carry downward.

Yosef modeled this perfectly: Amid betrayal and suffering, he maintained integrity and attributed the entire chain of events to God. In doing so, he brought the divine perspective into Egypt itself.

This is the timeless, empowering message of Vayigash: True hashgachah in exile is not God coming down to us, but our rising to Him—through understanding that all leads back to the First Cause, and through our resolute choice to live in imitation of His attributes. Like the angels on the ladder, we first ascend in thought and commitment, then descend into the world carrying that truth. In this way, we bring God with us wherever we go, turning even the darkest exile into a path of closeness and redemption.

Being close to God

 Within Jewish thought(Maimonidean), the less one presumes to know of God's essence, the closer one draws to Him.

The Rambam quotes the following in MN 1:59 to prove this point-

Tehillim 65:2-

לְךָ דֻמִיָּה תְהִלָּה אֱלֹהִים בְּצִיּוֹן

"To thee silence is praise"

TB Berakhot 33B

הַהוּא דִּנְחֵית קַמֵּיהּ דְּרַבִּי חֲנִינָא, אֲמַר ״הָאֵל הַגָּדוֹל הַגִּבּוֹר וְהַנּוֹרָא וְהָאַדִּיר וְהָעִזּוּז וְהַיָּראוּי, הֶחָזָק וְהָאַמִּיץ וְהַוַּדַּאי וְהַנִּכְבָּד״.

הִמְתִּין לוֹ עַד דְּסַיֵּים. כִּי סַיֵּים אֲמַר לֵיהּ: סַיֵּימְתִּינְהוּ לְכוּלְּהוּ שִׁבְחֵי דְמָרָךְ?! לְמָה לִי כּוּלֵּי הַאי? אֲנַן, הָנֵי תְּלָת דְּאָמְרִינַן אִי לָאו דְּאַמְרִינְהוּ מֹשֶׁה רַבֵּנוּ בְּאוֹרָיְיתָא, וַאֲתוֹ אַנְשֵׁי כְּנֶסֶת הַגְּדוֹלָה וְתַקְּנִינְהוּ בִּתְפִלָּה — לָא הֲוֵינַן יְכוֹלִין לְמֵימַר לְהוּ, וְאַתְּ אָמְרַתְּ כּוּלֵּי הַאי וְאָזְלַתְּ! מָשָׁל לְמֶלֶךְ בָּשָׂר וָדָם שֶׁהָיוּ לוֹ אֶלֶף אֲלָפִים דִּינְרֵי זָהָב, וְהָיוּ מְקַלְּסִין אוֹתוֹ בְּשֶׁל כֶּסֶף. וַהֲלֹא גְּנַאי הוּא לוֹ!

A particular individual descended before the ark as prayer leader in the presence of Rabbi Ḥanina. He extended his prayer and said: God, the great, mighty, awesome, powerful, mighty, awe-inspiring, strong, fearless, steadfast and honored.

Rabbi Ḥanina waited for him until he completed his prayer. When he finished, Rabbi Ḥanina asked him: Have you concluded all of the praises of your Master? Why do I need all of this superfluous praise? Even these three praises that we recite: The great, mighty and awesome, had Moses our teacher not said them in the Torah and had the members of the Great Assembly not come and incorporated them into the Amida prayer, we would not be permitted to recite them. And you went on and recited all of these. It is comparable to a king who possessed many thousands of golden dinars, yet they were praising him for silver ones. Isn’t that deprecatory? All of the praises we could possibly lavish upon the Lord are nothing but a few silver dinars relative to many thousands of gold dinars. Reciting a litany of praise does not enhance 

God’s honor.

One more thought that just occurred to me: Is it possible that Chazal’s mashal of gold and silver was inspired by (or even based on) these pesukim in Isaiah 46?

לְמִי תְדַמְּיוּנִי וְתַשְׁווּ וְתַמְשִׁלוּנִי וְנִדְמֶה׃

To whom can you compare Me Or declare Me similar?To whom can you liken Me,So that we seem comparable?

הַזָּלִים זָהָב מִכִּיס וְכֶסֶף בַּקָּנֶה יִשְׁקֹלוּ יִשְׂכְּרוּ צוֹרֵף וְיַעֲשֵׂהוּ אֵל יִסְגְּדוּ אַף־יִשְׁתַּחֲווּ׃

Those who squander gold from the purse And weigh out silver on the balance, They hire a metal worker to make it into a god,To which they bow down and prostrate themselves.

Korach the son or grandson of esav-וישלח

 In this week’s parsha (Bereishit 36), I’ve always found the listing of Esav’s descendants a bit confusing—specifically the son named קֹרַח who appears to be both a direct son of Esav and a son of Eliphaz (making him also Esav’s grandson).

Here are the relevant pesukim:

עֵשָׂ֛ו לָקַ֥ח אֶת־נָשָׁ֖יו מִבְּנ֣וֹת כְּנָ֑עַן אֶת־עָדָ֗ה בַּת־אֵילוֹן֙ הַֽחִתִּ֔י וְאֶת־אׇהֳלִֽיבָמָה֙ בַּת־עֲנָ֔ה בַּת־צִבְע֖וֹן הַֽחִוִּֽי...  

וְאׇהֳלִֽיבָמָה֙ יָֽלְדָ֔ה אֶת־[יְע֥וּשׁ] (יְעִ֖ישׁ) וְאֶת־יַעְלָ֖ם וְאֶת־קֹ֑רַח אֵ֚לֶּה בְּנֵ֣י עֵשָׂ֔ו אֲשֶׁ֥ר יֻלְּדוּ־ל֖וֹ בְּאֶ֥רֶץ כְּנָֽעַן׃

So we see that one of Esav’s wives, אׇהֳלִיבָמָה, gave birth to קֹרַח.  

(On a side note—her name אׇהֳלִיבָמָה, meaning “my tent is exalted” or “my tent is a בָּמָה,” is also quite interesting.)

The Torah repeats this lineage again:

וְאֵ֣לֶּה הָי֗וּ בְּנֵ֨י אׇהֳלִיבָמָ֧ה בַת־עֲנָ֛ה בַּת־צִבְע֖וֹן אֵ֣שֶׁת עֵשָׂ֑ו וַתֵּ֣לֶד לְעֵשָׂ֔ו אֶת־[יְע֥וּשׁ] (יְעִ֖ישׁ) וְאֶת־יַעְלָ֖ם וְאֶת־קֹֽרַח׃

Then we are told that Eliphaz (Esav’s firstborn son from his wife עָדָה) also had a son named קֹרַח:

אֵ֖לֶּה אַלּוּפֵ֣י בְנֵֽי־עֵשָׂ֑ו בְּנֵ֤י אֱלִיפַז֙ בְּכ֣וֹר עֵשָׂ֔ו אַלּ֤וּף תֵּימָן֙ אַלּ֣וּף אוֹמָ֔ר אַלּ֥וּף צְפ֖וֹ אַלּ֥וּף קְנַֽז׃  

אַלּֽוּף־קֹ֛רַח אַלּ֥וּף גַּעְתָּ֖ם אַלּ֣וּף עֲמָלֵ֑ק אֵ֣לֶּה אַלּוּפֵ֤י אֱלִיפַז֙ בְּאֶ֣רֶץ אֱד֔וֹם אֵ֖לֶּה בְּנֵ֥י עָדָֽה׃

And once more the Torah lists קֹרַח among the chiefs descended from אׇהֳלִיבָמָה(esav's wife):

וְאֵ֗לֶּה בְּנֵ֤י אׇהֳלִֽיבָמָה֙ אֵ֣שֶׁת עֵשָׂ֔ו אַלּ֥וּף יְע֛וּשׁ אַלּ֥וּף יַעְלָ֖ם אַלּ֣וּף קֹ֑רַח אֵ֣לֶּה אַלּוּפֵ֞י אׇהֳלִֽיבָמָ֛ה בַּת־עֲנָ֖ה אֵ֥שֶׁת עֵשָֽׂו׃

The Rishonim noticed this apparent contradiction: How can קֹרַח be both a son of Esav and a grandson (son of Eliphaz)?

Both Rashi and בְּכוֹר שׁוֹר (a prominent student of Rabbeinu Tam) brings a remarkable explanation, citing the words of our Sages-(I'm quoting the bechor shor below):

ורבותינו אמרו: כי אליפז בא על אהליבמה והולידו, ולפיכך מנהו באלופי אליפז ובאלופי אהליבמה ובבניה.

Meaning: Eliphaz had relations with his father’s wife אׇהֳלִיבָמָה and fathered קֹרַח with her. That is why the Torah counts קֹרַח both among the chiefs of Eliphaz and among the chiefs/descendants of אׇהֳלִיבָמָה (and originally as a direct son of Esav).

It’s striking that both Yaakov and Esav had similar scandals with their children. Yet by Yaakov and Reuven, the torah spells it straight out and by Esav and Eliphaz, it's only hinted…

Even more fascinating: centuries later, at the time of יציאת מצרים, the name קֹרַח became a common Jewish name—most famously borne by the Korach who challenged Moshe Rabbeinu. The fact that Jews in Egypt freely used names of Esav’s descendants may hint that, in that earlier period, Esav’s family was not yet viewed as the eternal adversary it later became (especially from the Second Temple era onward). In fact the Rambam(MN 3:50) says that the reason the descendants of Esav are listed in such detail, is so that in our mitzvah of erasing Amalek, we don't accidently harm Esav’s other children