The Reunion: Yusuf Forgives His Brothers
The power of forgiveness; Allah's plan unfolds
Remember the dream? Eleven stars, the sun, and the moon, all bowing to a single light. Tonight, that dream comes true. But the road to its fulfillment passes through tears, through blindness, and through the most powerful act of forgiveness in the entire Quran. Tonight we finish the best of stories.
The seven years of abundance had passed. Egypt's granaries were full, just as Yusuf (AS) had planned. Now the famine arrived, and it did not only strike Egypt. It spread across the lands, reaching the very valleys where Yaqub (AS) and his remaining sons lived.
The brothers traveled to Egypt to buy grain, like hundreds of other families from distant lands. They entered a grand hall and stood before the powerful minister who controlled the food supply. They bowed. They asked for provisions.
The minister looked at them. He recognized them instantly: his own brothers, the same ones who had thrown him into a well years ago. But they did not recognize him. The young boy they had discarded was now a man of authority, dressed in Egyptian finery, speaking the language of the palace. They saw a stranger.
Yusuf gave them their grain but made one condition: "Bring me your youngest brother, the one you say stayed with your father. If you do not bring him, there shall be no grain for you, and do not approach me."
They returned home and begged their father to send Binyamin, the only full brother Yusuf had. Yaqub's heart clenched. "Shall I trust you with him," he said quietly, "as I once trusted you with his brother before?"
The pain in those words could fill an ocean.
But the family needed grain, and the brothers swore an oath. Yaqub let Binyamin go, saying, "May Allah protect him." He told his sons to enter the city through different gates, not out of strategy alone, but as a father who had learned that the world is unpredictable and caution is a form of prayer.
When the brothers returned to Egypt with Binyamin, Yusuf took his younger brother aside privately and whispered: "I am your brother. Do not be distressed by what they used to do." Binyamin's eyes widened. His lost brother, alive, powerful, standing before him. But Yusuf had a plan. He was not ready to reveal himself to everyone. Not yet.
Yusuf placed a golden measuring cup in Binyamin's saddlebag without anyone seeing. When the brothers set off to leave, a royal announcer cried out: "O caravan! Indeed, you are thieves!" The brothers protested. But when the bags were searched, the cup was found with Binyamin.
The brothers were horrified. Under Egyptian law, Binyamin would have to stay. They tried to negotiate, offering one of themselves in his place, but the law was clear. They returned home without Binyamin, just as they had once returned without Yusuf.
When Yaqub heard the news, his grief, buried for years but never gone, erupted. He wept so much and so long that his eyes turned white. He went blind from crying. His sons said, "By Allah, you will not cease remembering Yusuf until you become fatally ill."
And Yaqub said words that should be carved into the heart of every person who has ever suffered: "I only complain of my suffering and my grief to Allah, and I know from Allah that which you do not know."
He did not complain to people. He did not blame his sons, though they deserved blame. He took his broken heart and placed it before the only One who could mend it. This is the highest form of tawakkul, trust in Allah: not the absence of pain, but the direction of that pain.
The famine continued. The brothers had no choice but to return to Egypt once more. This time they arrived broken and humble. "O Aziz," they said, "adversity has touched us and our family. We have brought only a small amount of goods, so give us full measure and be charitable to us."
And then Yusuf could hold it no longer.
"Do you know what you did with Yusuf and his brother, when you were ignorant?"
The brothers froze. Their blood went cold. How could this Egyptian minister know about Yusuf?
"Are you indeed Yusuf?" they whispered, hardly daring to believe.
"I am Yusuf, and this is my brother. Allah has certainly been gracious to us. Indeed, whoever fears Allah and is patient, then Allah does not allow the reward of the doers of good to be lost."
They dropped their heads. The guilt of years crashed over them. Every lie, every cruel moment, every night their father cried, all of it was right there in the room.
Then came the words that make this story immortal:
"La tathreeba alaykumul yawm."
"No blame upon you today. May Allah forgive you, and He is the most merciful of the merciful."
No blame. After everything they did, after the well, the lies, the blood on the shirt, the years of his father's blindness, Yusuf chose forgiveness. Not because they deserved it. Not because they asked for it well enough. But because forgiveness was what his heart, filled with Allah, wanted to give.
He took off his own shirt and said: "Take this shirt of mine and cast it over my father's face; he will recover his sight. And bring me your family, all of them."
When the caravan carrying the shirt reached the edge of their homeland, something beautiful happened. Old Yaqub, blind and frail, lifted his head and said: "Indeed, I find the scent of Yusuf, even if you think me senile."
Those around him shook their heads sadly. But when the shirt was placed over his face, his sight returned. Light flooded back into eyes that had been darkened by grief. And with the light came the truth.
The entire family traveled to Egypt. When they entered the court of Yusuf, they fell into prostration before him: father, mother, and eleven brothers. And Yusuf said: "O my father, this is the interpretation of my dream from before. My Lord has made it reality."
Eleven stars. The sun. The moon. All bowing.
Then Yusuf raised his hands to heaven and spoke the prayer that closes the most beautiful story ever told: "My Lord, You have given me authority and taught me the interpretation of dreams. Creator of the heavens and earth, You are my protector in this world and in the Hereafter. Cause me to die as a Muslim and join me with the righteous."
In the Shia tradition, the forgiveness of Yusuf is seen as one of the highest human virtues. Imam Ali (AS) said: "The best deed of a great person is to forgive and forget." And the Ahlul Bayt consistently demonstrated this: even when wronged by those who should have been their allies, they chose mercy when they had the power to choose revenge.
Imam Husayn (AS) on the day of Ashura, even as he was surrounded by enemies, offered them water from his camp and called them to truth rather than cursing them. This is the legacy of Yusuf's forgiveness: that true strength is not in punishment, but in the courage to say, "No blame upon you today."
Key Verse
Qala la tathreeba alaykumul yawm, yaghfirullahu lakum, wa huwa arhamur rahimeen "He said: No blame upon you today. May Allah forgive you, and He is the most merciful of the merciful." Yusuf (12:92)
Reflection Questions
- Yusuf had the power to punish his brothers, but instead he forgave them. What does his example teach us about what true strength looks like?
- Yaqub said, "I only complain of my suffering to Allah." What does it mean to bring your pain to Allah instead of complaining to people?
- The dream that young Yusuf had at the very beginning came true many years later. What does this teach us about being patient with Allah's plan, even when we cannot see the outcome?