Crying as an Expression of the Soul

CCrying as an Expression of the Soul

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Joseph cries more than any other person in the Torah. 

Seven times, the Torah records his tears, each one marking a deeply human expression. These tears are not incidental. They teach us something essential about vulnerability, healing, and what it means to be fully human.

When Joseph first sees his brothers in Egypt, he cries privately. His tears are hidden.

When he sees Benjamin for the first time, he again rushes out of the room to weep in secret. These moments are deeply personal, too raw to be shared. His tears belong to his inner world.

But when Judah steps forward and offers himself in place of Benjamin, everything changes. Joseph can no longer contain himself. This time, he cries out loud. He sends all the attendants out of the room, reveals his identity, and allows his tears and screams to flow. Something has shifted. This moment was too big to hide

Then come the tears of reunion: Joseph weeps with Benjamin, with his brothers, and later when he falls on his father Jacob’s neck after decades of separation. These are tears of love, of restoration, of familial bonds partially repaired.

After Jacob’s death and finally, when his brothers ask for forgiveness he cries again. Their request reveals a lingering fracture. Even after all that has happened, they still fear him. There is still distance. 

There is a profound teaching here: Joseph’s tears are not weakness; they are an expression of the soul responding to disconnection and a family not united.

Tears are what we might call an expression of the soul. They flow when words are insufficient. They wash over us and allow us to express vulnerability we cannot otherwise articulate. We do not hesitate to express joy publicly whether it be singing, dancing, or laughing. Why should sorrow, longing, or grief be hidden?

Judaism understands that healing comes not from suppressing emotion, but from allowing it to move through us.

Tears are a gift that God gives us. whether they flow from hope, love, grief, or loss. Perhaps when we allow ourselves to cry, we do not fall apart; we come out the other side more whole.

The Midrash on Eicha teaches this powerfully. When the Beit HaMikdash was destroyed, God went into a private chamber and cried. The angel Metatron offers, “Let me cry for You.” And God responds, “I need to cry Myself.”

God does not outsource grief. Pain cannot be delegated. Tears must be owned.

Joseph teaches us that there are times when tears are private and other times when they can be shared. God teaches us that grief must be felt, not transferred. Together, they remind us that crying is not a failure of faith but an expression of it.

Shabbat shalom,

Elissa