Redemption in a Single Moment - The Power of Names and Second Chances©
- Rabbi David Baum

- Jan 14
- 6 min read
Parashat Vayigash 2025 - Rabbi David Baum
Have you ever had a second chance in life?
I don’t mean a small one.
Not a “we’ll try again tomorrow” moment.I mean the kind of second chance where you knew—deep down—that you didn’t really deserve it… and yet it was given to you anyway.
And on the other side of that question: Have you ever been the one who gave someone else that second chance?
Not because they had earned it. Not because it was easy.
But because something in your heart told you: If not now, then never.
The idea of second chances is the beating heart of this week’s parashah, Vayigash - and he, Judah approached, וַיִּגַּ֨שׁ אֵלָ֜יו יְהוּדָ֗ה - Judah went up or came near. The rabbis try and ascertain the emotions he carried with him by looking at how that phrase is used in other places. Some say he approached him to go to war, but Rabbi Neḥemya says he approached him in for reconciliation - וַיִּגְשׁוּ בְנֵי יְהוּדָה אֶל יְהוֹשֻׁעַ לְפַיְיסוֹ, using an example from the future when the tribe of Judah sought to reconcile with Joshua.
At the very beginning of the parashah, one man steps forward: Judah; And in that step forward, everything changes.
Our story, the story of Joseph and his brothers, began years before this moment, and now, we reach its climax. In this moment, it is not just Joseph who seeks redemption, it is also his brothers. In last week’s parashah, Miketz, Joseph recognizes his brothers, but they don’t recognize him. He puts them through an ordeal involving deception, and psychological torture.
Why does Joseph put his brothers through this? Some say it is revenge, but Nechama Lebowitz feels otherwise. She gleans an idea from other commentators: Joseph put his brothers through this ordeal in order to give them the opportunity to do tesuvah. Maimonides teaches that one’s teshuvah is not complete until one is presented with the same situation that one was in previously, and resists the temptation. In this week’s parashah, Yehudah - Judah, approached, Vayigash, to begin the Teshuvah process, the reconciliation, and his brothers followed.
Judah places himself to take Benjamin’s place, admitting to the sin that led them to this place.
This is when Joseph sees his brothers have changed, and so has he. All of them are redeemed. Joseph is no longer the selfish boy who expects everyone to bow to him – thinking this is his destiny, as he says:
“I am your brother Joseph, he whom you sold into Egypt. 5 Now, do not be distressed or reproach yourselves because you sold me hither; it was to save life that God sent me ahead of you.”
Two brothers take the biggest leap of their lives in the form of dialogue. Teshuvah is performed, and forgiveness given. There is a similar story in the Talmud about redemption which comes in one moment.
Rabbi Hananiah Ben Teradyon has been sentenced to death, by burning at the stake, with wet wool over his heart so he will die slowly. The Roman executioner, called the קְלַצְטוֹנִירִי is impressed by Teradyon’s faith and determination and asks “If I increase the fire, and remove the wool so that you die, will you take me to eternal life with you?” Rabbi Hananiah ben Teradyon replies “Yes.” The executioner ends the rabbi’s torture, and himself is engulfed in the flames, as a heavenly voice cries out that both rabbi and executioner are welcomed in the world to come.
This is one of three examples in the Talmud of koneh et olamo b'sha'a achat, someone who acquired a portion in Olam Habah because of one act in one second.
Joseph and his brothers, and Rabbi Hannah ben Teradyon and the executioner teach us that no matter how low we are in the pit, one act of righteousness can redeem us.
We can come back.
Judah does this by giving his life for his brother Benjamin.The executioner did this by giving Rabbi Hananiah ben Teradyon a quicker death, and giving up his own life in the process.
I think about that often, but in a different way. He acquired His world, in one moment.
What world is he receiving? His could mean God’s world, or literally the person’s world?
I like to look at this as a way to look at our lives, the own second chances we received.
Asheknazim name their children after those they have lost, not only to honor their memory, but as a way to give their loved ones a second chance in this world - to bring a piece of them into the Promised Land, the undiscovered country that is the future.
If you share your stories with them, your ancestors will walk with their namesake through difficult times, and help them acquire a new world themselves.
Today, I want to talk about two second chances from ancestors, to thank them because without them, I wouldn’t be here today. We named our two sons after ancestors who gave second chances to others, and were given themselves a second chance.
This week, we marked the passing of Richard Solom, brother of my father in law, Murray Solom. Without their parents, Harry and Thelma, my wife and children would not be standing here today, and let’s face it, probably me too!
Harry and Thelma could not conceive children, but they were determined to bring life into the world, so they adopted two boys. And one of those boys, who grew up with a great jewish education and family, became my father in law.
Without that second chance, we wouldn’t be sitting here today. Our second born, our son Harrison, is named after his great-grandfather Harry.
And there’s another second chance I want to share.
Today, we are named a baby girl, Rachel Yael - the first name, Rachel, is named after our mother of blessed memory. My mother’s parents raised my brother and I, my grandfather’s name was Abram Musman.
My grandfather, Avram was born in Poland in 1913. He had a rough childhood, only completing the 2nd grade before moving to Warsaw alone where he became a tailor’s apprentice. After the Germans invaded Poland, Avram became one of the first prisoners of Auschwitz where he spent the duration of the war. Avram lost his first wife and child in Auschwitz, but survived despite years of torture. He married my grandmother Eva and started a family in Poland of my uncle Harry, my mother Rachel, and my aunt Mary.
My aunt told me a story of why she gave her son, my first cousin Brian. He shared a family secret with her. He told her a secret that he held for close to 50 years when his youngest daughter had her first son: "I want you to name him Betzalel after my first son who was murdered in Auschwitz.” For decades, we had no idea that he had a family before he met my grandmother.
But when it came the time to name a new grandson, he shared that name, and that story, with us all.
It was at that moment, many years ago, that I decided to name my future first born son, Avi, after him. His courage was not just in surviving, but in building a new future, not just for him, not just for me, but for you, the great-grandchild he would never meet. He taught us that survival is not enough; we must also dream for the future, and journey forward.
We believe in giving our loved ones a second chance in this world.
Rabbi Donniel Hartman, the head of the Hartman Institute in Israel once said, “The deepest lesson of the Holocaust is in the responsibility it places on all of our shoulders. As Jews, we are all survivors. As a people who survived, we did not choose the path of bitterness and despair. We chose the path of recommitment to life, its challenges, opportunities and responsibilities. When we remember the Holocaust and all of our Jewish tragedies, we mourn those who died, and give new respect to those who survived and the ways they survived, and commit ourselves to walking in their path.”
And, without Judah’s second chance, we wouldn’t be here as a people. We are not named the Josephites after all, we are called the Jews - Yehudim - the Judahs. This is who we are named after.
Let us return from where we began.
Have you ever had a second chance in life?
Not the small kind.Not the convenient kind.But the kind that saved you.The kind that changed the direction of your story.
And have you ever been the one who gave that second chance to someone else?
Judah did.
Joseph did.
An executioner did.
Harry and Thelma did.
My grandfather Avram did.
Our ancestors did — again and again — choosing life over despair, future over bitterness, rebuilding over retreat.
And now the question is ours.
Who in your life is waiting for you to step forward like Judah?
Who is hoping you will see them not for who they were, but for who they are trying to become?
What part of your own story is still waiting for its second chance?
Because Judaism is not a religion of perfect people.
And maybe that is why we are still here.
Not because we were spared the darkness, but because, like Judah, like Joseph, like our parents and grandparents, we kept choosing to walk forward — together — into the future.
May we be worthy of the second chances we have been given. And may we have the courage to give them to others, both in this world and the world to come.
And let us say - Amen.



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