Vayeitzei: The Power of Never Feeling Done
- Zachary Fish
- 4 minutes ago
- 5 min read
I wanted to look at the name יוסף itself and see what the essence of this name is. If you look at the pesukim where Rachel Names Yosef, it says.
ותהר ותלד בן ותאמר אסף אלקים את־חרפתי
She conceived and bore a son, and said, “God has taken away my disgrace.”
ותקרא את־שמו יוסף לאמר יסף ה׳ לי בן אחר
So she named him Joseph, saying, “May Hashem add another son for me.”
ויהי כאשר ילדה רחל את־יוסף ויאמר יעקב אל־לבן שלחני ואלכה אל־מקומי ולארצי
After Rachel had borne Joseph, Jacob said to Lavan, “Give me leave to go back to my own homeland.”
(Bereishis 30:23-25)
There are two primary questions that the meforshim ask:
Rachel breaks the pattern of how the shevatim were named. Usually, the mother’s initial statement explains the name. Based on that, Yosef’s name should have been אסף, not יוסף. Why introduce a new explanation — “יוסף ה׳ לי בן אחר” — and ignore the first one?
Why does Yaakov only ask to leave Lavan’s house after Yosef’s birth? What’s the connection?
I’ve also always found something else interesting. After all the years Rachel longed for a child and Hashem finally blessed her, she first says, “Hashem took away my embarrassment,” but immediately afterward she asks for another son. It almost seems like she already moved on, can’t she just enjoy the moment? Be thankful? Why jump right to wanting more?
Let’s first look at why Yaakov wanted to leave only after Yosef was born. Rashi on that pasuk says it’s because Yosef is the nemesis of Esav. He quotes a medrash that the descendants of Esav will fall to the descendants of Yosef.
What’s the p’shat?
The Shem MiShmuel [1] explains that the essence of Yosef and Esav are total opposites. When Rashi explains how Esav got his name he says.
לפי שהיה נעשה ונגמר בשערו כבן שנים הרבה
— “Because he was born completely formed, with hair like that of a grown man.”
The Shem MiShmuel writes that Esav represents this sense of completeness, of being finished — of thinking, “I’ve already arrived.” In contrast, Yosef represents hosafah — addition, striving, yearning for growth.
He notes that the Zohar says the yetzer hara is symbolized by an old man — representing a sense of being complete, finished, and unchanging. The yetzer tov, by contrast, is portrayed as a poor young boy, which represents an orientation of growth and feeling of needing to do more. And the Shem MiShmuel points out that we see in the Torah itself that Yosef, even at seventeen years old, is still referred to as a “yeled”, a child. This highlights his defining trait of perpetual growth and inner youthfulness, the spirit of someone who never feels “done.”
The Shem MiShmuel concludes that it is this middah of hosafah, of constant growth and striving, that allows Yosef to overcome Esav — because spiritual progress always defeats complacency.
And he says elsewhere [2] that it’s this same middah that allowed Yosef, even in galus Mitzrayim, to hold onto the light of Torah, to keep growing spiritually despite being in a foreign, corrupt land.
This idea reminded me of a striking Meshech Chochmah [3]. He describes a recurring cycle throughout Jewish history in galus: when a Jewish community becomes settled and successful, they build up Torah, strengthen their institutions, and deepen their connection to Hashem. But over time, the next generations begin to lose that intensity and sense of purpose. Eventually, Hashem has to awaken them - often by disrupting their comfort, forcing them to leave that land and start over elsewhere. It’s through that process of beginning again in a new land and losing it all, with nothing but faith and Torah to hold onto, that they rediscover their essence, reconnect to the Torah and ways of Hashem, and rebuild anew.
And he explains one of the reasons for this pattern:
הלא אין ביד הדור להוסיף מה
the later generations doesn't have anything to add
The generations born into communities where Torah life has already been firmly established often feel that everything has already been achieved. They feel that the great work of building and creating has been completed. Without that sense of mission or the drive to contribute something new, their passion for growth turns outward, and they begin channeling their creativity and yearning into foreign, non-Torah pursuits, gradually drifting away.
In other words: stagnation leads to exile while aspiration sustains us.
To stay connected to Torah, we must feel like we’re growing, that our avodah is going somewhere.
This, I think, explains why Rachel preferred the name יוסף over אסף. Many meforshim, such as the Rashbam, explain that Rachel still incorporated the meaning of אסף within the name יוסף, so that both ideas coexist. Under this approach, the name carries a dual message: the removal of past disgrace (אסף) and the tefillah for future growth (יוסף). Yet even so, it’s clear that the Torah emphasizes יוסף, the forward-looking aspect of addition and aspiration, as the defining theme.
However, the Meleches Machsheves, by Rav Moshe Chefetz [4], takes this idea even further. He explains that אסף was deliberately not chosen. Rachel intentionally avoided a name that looked backward and instead selected one that looked ahead. He explains:
ותקרא את שמו יוסף לאמר יסף ה׳ לי בן אחר – פי׳ מה שלא קראה שמו אסף על שם אסף אלהים את חרפתי. הפכה העבר לעתיד לאמר יוסף שלא לפתוח פיה לשטן לומר שכבר אסף בבן אחד. על כן הסבה שמו יוסף לומר יהי רצון שיוסיף ה׳ לי בן אחר ויהיה לשון ברכה ולא קללה.
He writes that Rachel deliberately changed the name from אסף to יוסף. To shift from the past to the future, to turn a potential klalah into a berachah. If she had named him אסף, it would have opened a pitchon peh to the satan. As if to say, "I am done, my shame is gone, I am good how I am” Instead, she used יוסף, expressing her desire and tefillah for Hashem to continue to add more beracha for her.
It’s a powerful message. It’s hardest to grow when things are good. When you’re struggling or have nothing, growth comes naturally. But when you’ve already succeeded, when אסף חרפתי, when the embarrassment is gone, that’s when complacency sets in. Rachel teaches that even at moments of success, you have to keep yearning for more.
They say perfect is the enemy of good, but maybe good is the enemy of better.
I’ll close with something I once heard from Rav Moishe Bane, the former president of the OU. After a very successful tenure, he was interviewed [5] and asked if he was nervous about what comes next after stepping down after having achieved so much.
He responded that he wasn’t nervous at all. He said that in fictional books, the whole story builds up to one defining moment, and everything after that is just the aftermath. But an oved Hashem, he said, “is someone who lives their entire life assuming their defining moment is still ahead of them — no matter how old they are.”
That’s exactly the message of Yosef, of hosafah, of adding, of never feeling done, of always believing the most important chapter is still ahead, even after success.
May we all carry that middah of hosafah, that drive to keep building and growing.