“Parashat Vayigash: Every Little Step” Rabbi Andrew Oberstein, Qabbalat Shabbat, 12/26/25

Rabbi Andrew Oberstein
Qabbalat Shabbat, December 26, 2025
Temple Israel of Boston 

This Shabbat always feels a little strange to me.

It’s the last Shabbat of the secular year – 

It’s a moment that feels like a holiday, 

but really isn’t one for us. 

We are a people who celebrate the turning of the Jewish calendar with clear rituals, 

with prayers, 

with texts that help us mark time: 

Rosh Hashanah calls us to reflection, 

Yom Kippur asks for repair, 

Sukkot invites gratitude, 

Passover teaches freedom. 

 

But Secular New Year? 

We have no liturgy, 

no anchor, 

no tradition for this threshold. 

But regardless, 

the turn of the year carries a weight all its own. 

 

Whether rooted in the Jewish calendar or not, 

the turning of the secular year asks us to stand in this liminal moment,

to notice the passing of time,

to reflect on what’s ended, 

and to consider what comes next.

******

At times like this, 

honest questions surface whether we invite them or not:
What am I carrying into the next year?
What remains unresolved?
What am I tired of holding alone?
And maybe the quietest, hardest question of all: 

Where do I have the energy—or the courage—to step forward in the year ahead?

 

Into this moment comes Parashat Vayigash.

Joseph, 

now powerful in Egypt but still unrecognized by his brothers, 

has put them to a test. 

His brother Benjamin is now at risk. 

And all of the brothers now face the same choice they did years ago: 

protect themselves or take responsibility for one another. 

 

And the Torah tells us the next move in three simple words:

Vayigash eilav Yehudah.
“And Judah stepped forward.”

Judah stepped forward not because he was certain.
Not because he knew the outcome.
Not even because he necessarily had a strategy.

He stepped forward because doing nothing in this moment was morally unbearable. 

Silence, 

and withdrawal, 

and avoidance—

they were no longer options.

*****

This year, that idea resonates more sharply than ever.

We have seen divisions deepen in families, in communities, and in our nation. 

Politics feel unmoored: 

the aftermath of the 2024 election, 

ongoing debates about the president and his policies, 

the erosion of trust in institutions, 

and the continued polarization of public life.

Violence and instability dominate headlines—

from Israel and Gaza to domestic extremism—

and many of us may feel powerless to change it. 

 

Social media has made outrage constant, 

and every conversation can feel like a trap. 

Many of us have struggled with conversations we long to have, 

But we fear they will only further fracture our relationships. 

 

Many of us have stayed silent when we wanted to speak truth.

It is tempting in such a year to withdraw. 

To disengage. 

 

And I’ll be clear that sometimes, 

that is exactly what is necessary. 

Torah is not naïve about human limits. 

Rest matters and 

boundaries matter 

and self-preservation matters.

*****

But Vayigash refuses to let withdrawal be the final word.

Judah doesn’t step forward because he is fearless or has certainty. 

He steps forward to appeal to Joseph on behalf of Benjamin because staying silent has a cost. 

Because avoidance is actually not neutral. 

Doing nothing is actually morally consequential. 

And in stepping forward, 

Judah offers the possibility of something different—

even when the outcome is unknown.

*****

This is not theoretical. 

I know it personally. 

 

This year, in 2025,

I’ll be honest, 

I hesitated before reaching out to certain people. 

I delayed conversations with friends about deeply political disagreements. 

Each moment of hesitation felt like the weight of indecision, and I saw how easy it would have been to let fear dictate my choices. 

Judah’s step forward reminds me—and all of us—that moral courage is not the absence of fear.  It is action in spite of it.

Stepping forward is not about grand gestures. It is about moral courage in ordinary life. 

In this year, stepping forward might look like:

• Staying in conversation with someone whose politics or beliefs you despise, instead of shutting them out entirely.
• It might look like speaking honestly to someone you love about a hurt that matters, even if the conversation is risky.
• It might look like bearing witness to injustice or violence, even when you fear it will make no difference.
• And it might look like engaging in civic life in ways that preserve your integrity rather than your comfort.

Sometimes stepping forward looks quieter:

• It might look like admitting you are tired instead of pretending you’re fine.
• It might look like asking for help instead of withdrawing.
• It might look like setting boundaries instead of just ghosting.
• And it might look like showing up for those who have less power or voice, even when it feels small or thankless.

These acts are small, they are human, and they are consequential. 

They are the embodiment of vayigash, of Judah stepping forward in our own lives.

To be clear, the Torah does not promise a tidy resolution. 

When Joseph finally says, “I am Joseph,” everything does not magically become simple. 

There are tears. 

There is shock. 

And fear. 

Because stepping forward is not about certainty. 

It is about responsibility.

*****

This secular year of 2025 is coming to a close and it’s a year that has asked so much of us. Emotionally. Spiritually. Morally. 

It has asked us to watch suffering across the globe, 

to confront brokenness at home, 

to reckon with the ways we have stayed silent, 

and to consider what it means to be present in a world that is often painful and unfair. 

 

And now, 

as this year closes, 

the question is not “What will the next year bring?” 

Because that we simply can’t know. 

 

Instead, the question is: Where am I being asked to step forward?

So, may we take stock honestly. 

May we honor what we have survived, 

what we have lost, 

what we are still grieving, 

and what we are still hoping for. 

And may we find the courage to act with integrity, with presence, and with moral clarity, even when the world around us feels fractured, uncertain, and exhausting.

Judah’s step forward was small, 

human, 

and uncertain. 

 

And it changed the story. 

 

May we each step forward in our own lives, 

even when we do not know the ending, 

and may that be enough to begin again.