Rabbi Freedman’s Shabbat Message

It does not go unnoticed that the verb לְהַכִּיר from the shoresh (the three letter root of the word) נכר to recognize comes multiple times in the Jacob – Joseph – Judah stories.  In fact there are six separate verses throughout this section of Genesis in which this word, in one form or other, is found.  In total as you can see below this verb is found eight times.

וַיְשַׁלְּחוּ אֶת-כְּתֹנֶת הַפַּסִּים וַיָּבִיאוּ אֶל-אֲבִיהֶם וַיֹּאמְרוּ זֹאת מָצָאנוּ  הַכֶּר-נָא הַכְּתֹנֶת בִּנְךָ הִוא–אִם-לֹא

And they sent the coat of many colours and brought it to their father, and said, “This we have found; do you recognise this as your son’s cloak or not.”  (Genesis 37: 32)

וַיַּכִּירָהּ וַיֹּאמֶר כְּתֹנֶת בְּנִי חַיָּה רָעָה אֲכָלָתְהוּ טָרֹף טֹרַף יוֹסֵף

And he recognized it, and said, “It is my son’s robe; a wild beast has devoured him; Joseph is without doubt torn to pieces.”  (Genesis 37:33)

הִוא מוּצֵאת וְהִיא שָׁלְחָה אֶל-חָמִיהָ לֵאמֹר לְאִישׁ אֲשֶׁר-אֵלֶּה לּוֹ אָנֹכִי הָרָה וַתֹּאמֶר הַכֶּר-נָא-לְמִי הַחֹתֶמֶת וְהַפְּתִילִים וְהַמַּטֶּה הָאֵלֶּה

As Tamar was being brought out, she sent word to her father-in-law (Judah), “By the man to whom these belong, I am with child.”  And she said, “Recognise, I pray you, whose these are, the signet and the cord and the staff.”  (Genesis 38:25)

וַיַּכֵּר יְהוּדָה וַיֹּאמֶר צָדְקָה מִמֶּנִּי כִּי-עַל-כֵּן לֹא-נְתַתִּיהָ לְשֵׁלָה בְנִי וְלֹא-יָסַף עוֹד לְדַעְתָּהּ

Judah recognised them immediately and said, “She is more righteous than me, inasmuch as I did not give her to my son Shelah.”  And he was never intimate with her again.  (Genesis 38:26)

וַיַּרְא יוֹסֵף אֶת-אֶחָיו וַיַּכִּרֵם וַיִּתְנַכֵּר אֲלֵיהֶם וַיְדַבֵּר אִתָּם קָשׁוֹת וַיֹּאמֶר אֲלֵהֶם מֵאַיִן בָּאתֶם וַיֹּאמְרוּ מֵאֶרֶץ כְּנַעַן לִשְׁבָּר-אֹכֶל

Joseph saw his brothers, and recognised them, but he treated them like strangers and spoke roughly to them. “Where do you come from?” he said.  They said, “From the land of Canaan, to buy food.”  (Genesis 42:7)

וַיַּכֵּר יוֹסֵף אֶת-אֶחָיו וְהֵם לֹא הִכִּרֻהוּ

So it was that Joseph recognised his brothers, but they did not recognise him.  (Genesis 42:8)

The climax of the story is found at the beginning of this week’s sidra, Parashat Vayigash: finally the identity of each one is known to the other and with huge emotion they reunite and become reconciled to one another.  At this point the text introduces a new word that completes the cycle of recognition when it states:

וְלֹא-יָכֹל יוֹסֵף לְהִתְאַפֵּק לְכֹל הַנִּצָּבִים עָלָיו וַיִּקְרָא הוֹצִיאוּ כָל-אִישׁ מֵעָלָי וְלֹא-עָמַד אִישׁ אִתּוֹ בְּהִתְוַדַּע יוֹסֵף אֶל-אֶחָיו.

Then Joseph could not control himself before all those who stood by him; and he cried, “Make every one go out from me.” So no Egyptian remained with him as Joseph made himself recognisable (lit. known) to his brothers.  (Genesis 45:1)

Few Hebrew roots carry such narrative and theological weight in Genesis as נכר (nkr)—a verb meaning to recognize, to discern, to acknowledge, but also, intriguingly, to make strange or to estrange.  Nowhere does this verb appear with greater density or greater literary artistry than in the stories of Jacob, Joseph, and Judah (Genesis 27–45).

Take first the patriarch Jacob.  His story begins with deception and the ensuing non-recognition.  The narrative begins in Genesis 27 with Jacob’s deception of his father Isaac.  The verb נכר does not appear here explicitly, yet this chapter is essential background: Isaac does not ‘recognize’ that it is Jacob impersonating Esau and the entire scene is about false perception, misidentification, and obscured identity: the hairy goatskins, the borrowed clothing, the disguised voice.  Classical and modern commentators alike have noted that this decision by Jacob impacted the rest of his life as well as the key protagonists around him.

Rabbinic commentators see this episode as the theological seed of what will unfold in Jacob’s own life.  Deception involving garments and incorrect recognition will return to him through his sons, particularly via Judah and Joseph.  One could almost say that the matter of recognition became a moral and spiritual barometer – tracking the characters’ growth, failures, and eventual transformation.

This is a classic case of measure for measure (middah k’neged middah): as Jacob deceived his father with a goat and a garment, so his sons deceived him with the blood of a goat and Joseph’s garment.  To add insult to injury the brothers failed to recognise Joseph when they appeared before him in Egypt – and in a separate incident, Judah was also caught up in this on-going family drama when he failed to recognise his daughter-in law Tamar, which resulted in her becoming pregnant by him.  His faux pas was later exposed when Tamar called upon him to identify some of his personal belongings which proved the paternity of the child.

In the light of these various cases, commentators, medieval and modern, explain that the repetition of the word and the concept of recognition turned the verb into a leitmotif signalling themes of identity, deception, and moral awakening.

Little wonder that some connect the two occasions that the text states הַכֶּר־נָא “recognize please” (found in Genesis 37:32 and Genesis 38:25), calling them literary mirrors pointing out that the very words used by Judah to deceive Jacob are then used against him by Tamar – a kind of moral reckoning.  There is no doubt that this symmetry becomes a turning point in Judah’s moral development.  When Tamar revealed Judah’s role in her situation by asking him הַכֶּר־נָא do you recognise these items – it was the moment that forced Judah into self-recognition, as he exclaimed – צָדְקָה מִמֶּנִּי – She is more righteous than me.

Within this story is a message for each one of us – being able to recognise the truth about oneself always marks the beginning of transformation—in Judah’s case, it was a transformation that culminated with him offering himself as a slave in Benjamin’s place (Genesis 44:33).

Thus, recognition here is not merely perceptual; it is ethical and existential.

While some commentators, such as Rashi, suggest that Joseph’s recognition is aided by memory—he sees them unchanged, except older—and by the fulfilment of earlier dreams.  Others, such as Ibn Ezra, note that Joseph’s Egyptian appearance masks him, contributing to the brothers’ failure to recognize him.  Modern literary commentators like Robert Alter argue that Joseph’s recognition is not just visual; it is moral and narrative.  Joseph discerns who they are and who he is now.  Recognition initiates the path toward testing, forgiveness, and reconciliation.  Recognition in this sense embodies a philosophical notion emphasized by thinkers from Philo to Maimonides to Levinas that moral growth begins when one recognizes one’s own failures.  Recognition becomes a moment of truth, enabling regret, remorse and ultimately repentance.

Notwithstanding this interpretation, Joseph’s recognition of his brothers was not just one of self-reflection but a moment of ethical summons.  Joseph sees the brothers and is obligated by their vulnerability—in spite of the harm they had done to him.  So the reflection is not just on one’s own failings, but also those of the other.

Biblical theology teaches one further significant message surrounding ‘recognition’ and that is the parallel between human recognition and divine recognition.  The Tanakh frequently describes Israel’s coming to “know” God through events of moral awakening.  The Joseph story, with its movements from misrecognition to understanding, mirrors this spiritual progression:

Isaac misrecognizes Jacob

Jacob misrecognizes Joseph’s fate

Judah recognizes Tamar’s righteousness

Joseph recognizes his brothers’ potential for change

The brothers finally recognize Joseph

This progression traces a movement from illusion to truth, from spiritual blindness to moral insight.  Recognition therefore, becomes a divine attribute which humans must learn to emulate.  With this in mind, modern scholars emphasize that the Joseph story’s climax found in Parashat Vayigash is not simply forgiveness but recognition – seeing the true identity and intentions of others.  Reconciliation becomes possible only when all parties see clearly, honestly, and without disguise.

None of this would surface had the stories of Jacob, Joseph, and Judah not used the verb נכר as a structural and theological motif.  Recognition becomes the pivot upon which deception turns into truth, sin into repentance, estrangement into reconciliation.  Ultimately, “recognition” in these narratives is not merely perceptual, it is spiritual.  To recognize is to know truly, and to know truly is to step into moral responsibility.  Judah’s growth, Joseph’s forgiveness, and the family’s healing hinge on this capacity.

Recognition is philosophically crucial for self-identity, social justice, and moral development, as affirmed by thinkers like Honneth.  Axel Honneth’s theory of recognition posits that a fundamental human need is for mutual affirmation, where individuals are recognized by others, forming the basis for a healthy self-relation and freedom, with its absence leading to social pathologies like shame and alienation, driving social conflicts and movements for justice through three spheres: love (caring), rights (respect), and solidarity (esteem).  Similarly Hegel’s concept of recognition (Anerkennung) is central to his philosophy, defining self-consciousness as dependent on being acknowledged by another self-conscious being, suggesting that individuals achieve true freedom and identity not in isolation, but through reciprocal, mutual recognition within social and ethical life.  Religious thinkers would add that recognition is also foundational for connecting with the Divine, moving from seeing value to believing in it, thereby grounding spiritual practices in lived experience and mutual respect.

Through these chapters, the Book of Bereishit demonstrates that recognition is a metaphor for the human condition: our struggle to see rightly – others, ourselves, and God – and the redemptive transformation that so often follows.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi David Freedman