"The Pit Was Empty — No Water: The Anatomy of Sin by Omission"

The Hidden Destruction of “Not My Problem”

The Torah does not only condemn the hand that strikes — it equally indicts the hand that refuses to reach out. When Yosef is thrown into the pit, the Torah pauses to tell us: “והבור ריק — אין בו מים” — “The pit was empty—there was no water.” Chazal immediately add: no water, but full of snakes and scorpions. The silence of the brothers, their distance from Yosef’s cries, becomes a defining moral failure: not active murder, but the deadly convenience of thinking “he is no longer my responsibility.” This story becomes the foundational warning in Torah ethics: when a person’s suffering is before you, neutrality is not neutral — inaction becomes participation.

I. The Torah’s Strange Focus

When the Torah describes Yosef’s descent into the pit, it inserts a detail so vivid that Chazal never stop expounding it:

“וְהַבּוֹר רֵק אֵין בּוֹ מָיִם”
“The pit was empty — there was no water.” (Bereishis 37:24)

If the pit is empty, then of course there is no water. Why does the Torah spell out both?

Rashi famously answers:

“אין בו מים — אבל נחשים ועקרבים יש בו.”
Meaning: there was no life-giving water… but there were deadly creatures.

In other words, the Torah is showing us what the brothers didn’t intend — and what they did. They didn’t actively murder Yosef by sword… they merely threw him into a context where death awaited him silently.

This becomes a paradigm for חטא בשב ואל תעשה — sins not of violence but of refusal to care.

II. Ramban: The Cruelty of Calculation

Ramban draws out a deeper injustice:

The brothers strip Yosef, throw him in a pit, and then sit down to eat a meal (37:25).

To recline comfortably while your brother cries for help just feet away — this is callousness elevated into ideology. Ramban highlights that they convinced themselves their choice was righteous — Yosef was dangerous to the family’s destiny.

They didn’t see cruelty.
They saw policy.

This is the nightmare of moral blindness: when omission becomes justified as virtue.

III. Abarbanel: When Responsibility Is Abandoned

Abarbanel notes a paradox: Reuven performs a partial rescue — “throw him in the pit, do not kill him!” — but then walks away.

His intent is good.
His result is tragedy.

Reuven becomes the model for the almost-savior, the one who cares… but not enough to stay.

This is a profound warning:

When we delay righteousness, harm proceeds without us — but not without our share of guilt.

Sometimes responsibility is not a heroic action — but remaining present, refusing to leave the suffering unattended.

IV. Silence as Violence — The Torah’s Moral Philosophy

The halachic system reinforces this theme:

• לא תעמוד על דם רעך — Do not stand by as your brother’s blood is shed (Mitzvah #297)
• והשבותו לו — Return what is lost, including health, safety, and dignity (Mitzvah #204)
• הוכח תוכיח את עמיתך — Reprove your fellow, rescue him from a bad path (Mitzvah #205)

All assume a single, radical premise:

You are responsible for the other.

Indifference is never neutral.
Silence is never harmless.
Looking away is a form of participation.

V. “No Water” — The Killer of Hope

Water symbolizes:

• Life
• Torah
• Chesed

To say “no water” is to say:
We removed not only survival — but hope.

They did not kill his body immediately…
They killed his sense of future.

The cruelty of omission often works that way:
A person may remain alive —
but abandoned, unseen, unvalued.

VI. Eating Near the Pit — The Chilling Contrast

Midrash says Yosef begged and cried — and the brothers ignored him.

Eating, conversing, planning — while another weeps — is the essence of כעס אכזריות (the anger of cruelty). It reveals how ordinary evil can look when moral imagination shuts down.

VII. Our Pits

Every generation builds pits:

• A classmate left out
• A coworker mocked
• A neighbor struggling silently
• A family member battling privately
• A person drowning spiritually — in addiction, loneliness, shame

The real test is not whether we commit open harm,
but whether we walk away believing that not killing equals righteousness.

The Torah says: wrong.
Holiness demands presence.

“Where there is no man — strive to be a man.”
(Avos 2:5)

If someone is sinking, we do not analyze —
we act.

VIII. Redemption Begins Where Indifference Ends

The descent into Egypt begins with a pit.
But so does the ascent.

Yosef rises because he never mirrors his brothers’ apathy.
He sees a fallen face (the cupbearer and baker) — and intervenes.
He sees hunger — and feeds nations.
He sees vulnerability — and protects his family.

Where the brothers abandoned,
Yosef embraced responsibility.

Geulah is born when one brother stops walking away.

Conclusion: What We Choose Not to Do

Parshas Vayeishev teaches one of the deepest truths of human accountability:

We are judged not only for what we do wrong —
but for the lives we fail to lift.

The pit stands forever in Torah as a warning and a charge:

Don’t wait until someone is drowning.
Don’t eat next to the pit.
Don’t be Reuven-for-a-moment and then vanish.

Fill the pit with water — with Torah, kindness, attention, advocacy, courage.

If we will not push someone down,
we must also not fail to pull them up.

📖 Sources

• Full sources available on the Mitzvah Minute Parshas Vayeishev page under insights and commentaries.