Crying: A History
Tears heal the soul, reveal our humanity, and bridge time—Yosef’s story shows the timeless power of crying.
Crying is one of humanity’s most profound and mysterious abilities, a bridge between the physical and emotional worlds. Uniquely human, and reflecting our tzelem Elokim, it captures our capacity to channel deep feelings through tears. Yet, crying is often misunderstood and suppressed, especially by men. Shlomo Hamelech reminds us that “there is a time to laugh and a time to cry.”1 This delicate balance between restraint and release is exemplified in the story of Yosef’s tears in this week’s parashah. Tears can cleanse the soul, but only when channeled appropriately. Knowing when to cry, and when to hold back, requires wisdom.
About a year ago, my sister, Rebbetzin Kayla Goldstein, founded the Vaad L’Inyanei Igun and launched it with a gathering of Rabbanim to support Agunos. One of the featured speakers, Rav Moshe Weinberger, shared a moving story about the Rebbe of Hornosteipel, Reb Mottele. Known for being a confidant to those in pain, the Rebbe constantly had a stream of people outside his door, waiting to share their hardships. One day, overwhelmed by the suffering he heard, the Rebbe dramatically opened his shirt, exposed his chest, and cried out, "Master of the Universe! Look into my heart. I can't bear any more."
Rav Weinberger explained that just as we have our moments of tears, so does Hashem. The Midrash2 describes a hidden place called "Mistarim," where Hashem retreats to cry. In this sacred space, Hashem shares in our pain, weeping alongside us.
However, not all tears are warranted. Throughout our history, there have been moments when tears were unnecessary and misplaced. A striking example is the reaction of the Jewish people to the meraglim’s report about Eretz Yisrael.3 Their unwarranted crying on that fateful night, later marked as Tisha B’Av, set the stage for generations of exile and suffering.
In contrast, the tears of teshuvah, yearning, and prayer, like those shed by Chana in her heartfelt plea for a child,4 are transformative. These tears forge a deep connection with Hashem, opening the gates of heaven and drawing down His mercy. Rav Moshe Dovid Vali explains that tears often signify the resolution of din, clearing the way for divine compassion to flow. Far from being a mere release of emotion, these tears serve as a spiritual purification, paving the path for chesed to take root. It’s akin to a spiritual washing machine, rinsing away din and allowing kindness to fill the void.
The Torah describes Yosef’s restraint with the word “Vayisapek.” While commonly translated as "he held back," the Ksav v’Kabbalah explains that this term suggests Yosef was unable to fully express his emotions at that moment—a reflection of being overcome, rather than intentional restraint. In contrast, Rav Moshe Dovid Vali explains that Yosef’s tears reflect his mastery over his emotions: though overwhelmed, he chose to hold back to preserve the integrity of his greater plan.
These two perspectives highlight the complexity of emotional balance. Sometimes, tears overwhelm us beyond our control, while at other times, we hold them back as an act of wisdom and purpose. Yosef’s journey illustrates both realities—moments of inexpressible emotion and moments of deliberate restraint.
The Torah records Yosef weeping multiple times, each instance marking a profound moment of transformation. When Yosef first heard his brothers express guilt, he retreated to cry privately5. His tears reveal his deep care, his struggle to process past pain, and his effort to embrace the present. In this way, Yosef mirrors Hashem, who cries in the mistarim.
Later, when Yosef sees Binyamin for the first time in decades, he is overwhelmed with emotion, yet he once again conceals his tears to preserve the integrity of his plan.6 Only when the moment was right did he reveal himself and wept openly and loudly, a release of tension and joy.7
The Netziv emphasizes that while tears are often a tool for cleansing, they must be approached with caution. Esav cried when Yaakov received the beracha from Yitzchak, and Yaakov was later punished for feeling satisfaction from Esav’s tears. Similarly, the Alshich notes that Penina was punished for causing Chana to cry. These examples remind us of a powerful lesson: we must never cause others to cry. Tears can elevate and transform when they stem from self-growth or connection to Hashem, but those caused by another’s actions can have lasting repercussions.
When Yosef and Yaakov reunited, Yosef wept on his father’s shoulder, while Yaakov recited Shema instead.
Yosef’s restraint, followed by Yaakov’s composed recitation of Shema, teaches a vital lesson: there’s a time for tears, but not every moment calls for them.
Rav Wolbe, quoting the Maharal, explains that Yaakov prioritized maintaining his inner peace and focus, which he accomplished by saying Shema. Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch elaborates that Yaakov had already shed tears during the years of grief over Yosef’s loss. For him, the reunion marked closure, filled with relief and gratitude. Yosef, however, had lived a life full of distractions in Egypt, preventing him from processing the pain of separation. Seeing his father again, unleashed 22 years of pent-up emotion, allowing his tears to flow freely and begin his healing process.
Tears also carry the power to connect and redeem. Rachel’s selflessness exemplifies this: upon hearing Leah’s cries, Rachel gave her the secrets that enabled her to marry Yaakov. Such acts of selflessness open pathways for rachamim to flow and elevate those who act with empathy.
Yosef’s tears, spanning moments from reuniting with his brothers in Egypt8 to mourning Yaakov’s passing,9 marked turning points in his life. Rav Mordechai Schwab notes that tears often signify internal transformation, moments when we change and grow.10 For Yosef, each tear brought him closer to healing and family reconciliation.
The Lubavitcher Rebbe insightfully taught that tears don’t always need to accomplish a specific goal. Sometimes, we cry simply because the pain is overwhelming. Tears express our humanity and the depth of our experiences. Yosef’s tears were not calculated; they were an authentic reflection of his journey, encapsulating pain, relief, and joy.
Even physiologically, tears serve a vital purpose. Some tears contain lysozyme, a bactericidal enzyme that promotes eye health and sterility. Spiritually, the source of our tears determines their impact. Tears shed in prayer, teshuva, or yearning bring us closer to Hashem and open gates that might otherwise remain closed.
Rav Hirsch observes that Yosef’s thoughtful handling of his emotions demonstrates his ability to navigate intense feelings with care and purpose. Rather than suppressing his emotions, Yosef chose when and how to express them, teaching us the importance of balance and self-awareness in emotionally charged moments.
Crying is a uniquely, living human trait. To cry is to feel. Rav Gerzi explains that crying reflects a deep emotional touch, opening the door to healing and renewal. This balance highlights the importance of understanding and expressing emotions, a skill Yosef mastered and passed down through the generations.
In her book Dare to Lead, Brené Brown explores the difference between leading from hurt and leading from heart. She emphasizes the need to process emotions rather than project them onto others. Yosef’s journey epitomizes this idea. Despite enduring immense pain, he never allowed his suffering to control his actions. Instead, he channeled his emotions to build connections, mend relationships, and ultimately reunite his family. This is the essence of leading from the heart—transforming vulnerability into a profound source of strength.
Rabbi Sacks, quoting Rav Aharon Lichtenstein, reflects on Yosef’s tears as a window into the limits of power. Despite Yosef’s authority, his brothers’ lingering distrust after Yaakov’s death reveals the fragility of their bond. Rav Lichtenstein explains that Yosef’s weeping symbolizes the price he paid for his dreams and rise to power. Though Yosef provided for his brothers, gave them refuge, and forgave their betrayal, he discovers that raw power cannot mend broken family connections. His tears acknowledge the unhealed rifts and the profound human cost of his journey.
Yosef’s story demonstrates the duality of tears. On one hand, they break down barriers within ourselves, allowing vulnerability and connection. On the other, they demand discernment, as not all emotions should be shared publicly. Yosef’s choice to cry privately at times highlights the sanctity of personal struggles, preserving their depth while channeling his actions toward the greater good.
Tears serve as a catalyst for change, particularly in teshuva, where they break barriers between us and Hashem. They remind us of our dependence on Him, creating a space for connection. Beyond sadness, tears embody renewal and hope, they create a space where man and his Creator can meet.
Ultimately, crying is a gift, a holy act that bridges past, present, and future. It allows us to express the inexpressible, cleanse our hearts, and connect deeply with others. Yosef’s story reminds us that tears, when channeled wisely, are a source of profound strength. They teach us that even in moments of pain and longing, we can find room for transformation. Though the gates of prayer may close, the gates of tears remain eternally open, inviting us to embrace their power and the renewal they bring.
The history of crying, from Yosef to the challenges of today, teaches us that tears are not only an emotional reflex. Tears are a holy act, bridging past, present, and future with profound meaning. As my father says - “Tears are the ink of the soul”.
Tears remind us of our humanity, our deep connections, and our relationship with Hashem. By embracing the gift of tears, we open ourselves to renewal and transformation, carrying forward the timeless lessons Yosef’s story continues to teach us.
Koheles 3:4
Eichah Rabbah, Pesichta 24
Bamidbar 14:1
Shmuel A 1:10
Bereishis 42:24
Bereishis 43:30
Bereishis 45:1-2
Bereishis 42:24
Bereishis 50:17
Shmuessen of Rav Mordechai Schwab - Maamar 51