Were Yosef's words a form of harsh criticism, or was there rebuke in what he left unsaid?
A famous Midrashic passage (Bereishit Rabba 93:10) compares the reaction of Yosef’s brothers upon discovering that the Egyptian vizier was their brother, and our reaction when we leave this world and stand in judgment before the Almighty:
Woe unto us on the day of judgment… Yosef was the youngest of the tribes, and yet his brothers were unable to respond to him. When the Almighty will come and reprimand each individual according to his stature…all the more so!
If the brothers were so struck by horror that they could not even speak to Yosef, the Midrash states, then certainly we will be seized by terror and fright when we are reprimanded by the Almighty.
Many darshanim and writers noted that this comparison appears to assume that Yosef somehow reprimanded his brothers, and they were unable to respond because of the humiliation caused by his censure. In truth, however, all Yosef had said to them was, “I am Yosef, is my father still alive?” (45:3), and the question thus arises as to how this amounted to a tokhecha – a statement of reproach.
The most famous explanation is that of the Beit Halevi, who explained that Yosef’s question, “Is my father still alive?” was intended as a biting condemnation of his brothers. In response to Yehuda’s impassioned plea that he allow Binyamin to return to Canaan, because otherwise Yaakov would suffer overbearing sorrow and grief, and perhaps even die, Yosef sarcastically asks, “Is my father still alive?” Why, he asks, were the brothers not concerned for their father’s wellbeing twenty-two years earlier, when they sold him as a slave and pretended he had been killed? The Beit Halevi explains that the greatest humiliation a person could suffer is the exposure of his hypocrisy, of the fallacy of the many excuses he gives for his failings. And thus Yosef’s censure of his brothers is indeed a powerful warning of the humiliation we might one day experience if we live a life of inconsistencies and hypocrisy.
Rav Yechiel Yaakov Weinberg (the Seridei Eish) suggested a much different explanation of the Midrash’s comment:
This is precisely the strongest form of censure – that he did not censure them! Yosef’s brothers saw Yosef’s greatness and exalted stature in that he did not punish them, but rather treated them kindheartedly. Because of this they were struck by horror in his presence, as Rashi explained, “Because of the shame.” They were the older ones, and Yosef was the youngest, and yet they felt ashamed and humiliated in the face of his righteousness and his elevated soul, to the point where they could not respond to him. When the Almighty will come, and a person will see His loftiness and greatness, all the more so he will feel ashamed and humiliated…
(Lifrakim, pp. 606-607)
Often, the most stinging form of criticism is silent observation. The stark contrast between the brothers’ cruelty toward Yosef and the benevolence and sympathy he extended to them was more effective than any words in putting the brothers to shame. By simply treating his brothers kindly, Yosef effectively “reprimanded” them, as they naturally felt humiliated by the way they had treated him. The Midrash draws our attention to the fact that when we come face-to-face with God’s unlimited might and grace, when we understand how truly powerful He is and just how kindly He treats His creatures, we will be ashamed without having to hear a word. This recognition, along with our recognition of our failings and deficiencies, will cause us great shame and humiliation, far more than words possibly could.