Eight Moments in Miketz (Miketz #1)

It most often happens that parshas Miketz overlaps with Shabbas Chanukah, and while there are reasons for this that have nothing to do with Chanukah, it is interesting to look for a common theme. Chanukah is the holiday of light, of reminding the world of Hashem’s constant presence and the active miracles He did and does for the Jewish people. Parshas Miketz, on the other hand, is not about open miracles or immediate assistance. One might even say that there are no miracles at all in this week’s parsha - and that is the pivotal connection. As Jews, it is incredibly important that we remember “sheh asah nisim lavotenu bayamim hahem bazman hazeh” (who did for our ancestors miracles in their day in this time). The past and the present in this bracha are a beautiful reminder that miracles are always happening.

Chanukah is the holiday of lights, and lights are often used as a metaphor for sudden understanding or new ideas, because those “ah ha” moments are moments when Hashem let’s us see the world from a new perspective. Parshas Miketz might not describe open miracles, but throughout the parsha one can find eight such magnificent moments in which our forefathers had a sudden and new understanding of their lives and their reality, and through that new understanding, they were better able to understand Hashem’s long term plan - which is, of course, nothing short of miraculous.

Let us note those eight moments.:

1: Bereishis 41: 9 – 13. When, two years after his release, the chief cup bearer finally remembered Yoseph and told Pharaoh about him. If Pharaoh had not asked just about everyone he knew to help him discover the meaning of his dreams, would the butler ever have remembered Yoseph? And even if he had, he would not have brought it up for fear of reminding Pharaoh of his earlier time in jail. But Hashem put him in the right place at the right moment to have this sudden moment of memory so that Yoseph and Pharaoh could meet.

2: Yoseph understood Pharaoh’s dreams. Read the dreams of Pharaoh as if you had never read the parsha before. Really fourteen cows and fourteen stalks of grain mean the harvests will be spectacular for seven years and then there will be a horrific famine? The interpretation of Pharaoh’s dreams is far from obvious. Yet Yoseph does not appear to hesitate in explaining the dream to Pharaoh. While we understand from early chapters that Yoseph was particularly gifted at interpreting dreams, this understanding of the warning against famine was definitely a moment of incomprehensible understanding.

3: Pharaoh’s understanding that he should appoint Yoseph to undertake the preparations for surviving the upcoming famines is another Divine “ah ha” moment. Let's be honest, it's one thing to have a foreign convict interpret one's dreams, it's something far different to decide to appoint him as viceroy. But Pharaoh didn't take weeks and months looking for the right appointee, he immediately thought of and appointed Yoseph to oversee the necessary planning.

4: "When Yaakov saw that there were food rations to be had in Egypt, he said to his sons, 'Why do you keep looking at one another?’” (42:1). There are many commentaries on this verse about what Yaakov’s rebuke-filled question meant. The use of vayare (and he saw) is also understood to mean that he perceived something. One could see in this verse that Yaakov had a sudden, clear understanding that there was something in Egypt that they needed, and perhaps his question to his sons was really an expression of his puzzlement that they did not perceive the same thing.

5: Yoseph’s recognition of his brothers is as significant as their not recognizing him. Yoseph saw that he had an unexpected opportunity to see what his brothers were really made of. He understood that his dreams might come true, but just as strongly he understood that he had to see if they were the same jealous brothers who had so callously sold him into slavery.

6: "They said to one another, we are being punished on account of our brother, because we looked on his anguish yet paid no heed as he pleaded with us'" (42:21). This was a moment of partial enlightenment. They were on the right track in their thinking, but isn't it interesting that even as they actively discussed Yoseph, none of them even had an inkling as to his actual identity. Still and all, this is a significant moment of awareness because it was the first time there is a feeling of guilt among the brothers. (It is necessary to note that Reuven is not part of this “ah ha” moment. As we learn in verse 42:22, Reuven immediately set himself apart from his brothers and their deed, which is, perhaps, why he is unable to negotiate a surety for his father for Binyamin).

7: Yehuda has great understanding that he can step up and lead. He heard Reuven’s offer of his sons’ lives as a surety for Binyamin’s safety and how it was rejected. He witnessed how they all ignored the elephant in the room – the missing Shimon, stuck still in Egypt – and went about their normal lives. One day, as their rations fell short, Yehuda finally realized that he need not wait for his older brothers, that he could take the leap, gain his father's trust with Binyamin's life, and help the family. This was an important moment in Yehuda’s path that would ultimately lead him and his descendants to be the recognized leaders of Bnei Yisrael.

8: “And Yoseph saw Binyamin was with them." Finally, Yoseph is capable of understanding what it has all been about. He saw Binyamin and he knew that his original dreams would come to fruition. There were still measures to take, such as testing the commitment of the brothers to Binyamin’s safety, but when Yoseph saw the brothers enter with Binyamin, he knew that everything would work out as part of Hashem’s plan, because now that he could see some of the bigger picture, he understood why he had had to face so many challenges in his life.

The miracle of Yoseph’s life, the miracle of parshas Miketz, is something most of us experience many times but do not particularly notice or ascribe to miracles. In Miketz we learn to see past the glowing lights of the Menorah and the spark of the Divine intervention our people needed and received against the Syrian-Greeks, but rather look to the ultimate miracle of seeing and understanding God’s ultimate control in this world.

A Man Who Pointed The Way (Vayeshev #1)

Once upon a time in my life there was a man, really a boy - although at the time he seemed far older than me, who mentioned in passing that being Jewish was something that he thought about in everything he did. Being the 14-year-old that I was, I thought he was a little lame. That youth, without even realizing, had a major impact on my life because even though I had been disdainful in the moment, his words resonated deep within my soul. For me, that boy, a counselor at a BBYO summer program back in 1990, was an eesh b’sadeh, the seemingly random man in the field who asked Yosef what he was looking for and then directed him to his brothers (Bereishis 37).

It is a snippet of narrative told in just a few verses, but it contains many powerful lessons. In our current generation, one of the most significant of these lessons is about Hashem’s great desire for Jewish unity. Yes, it is a common trope, one that is brought up particularly often after our beautiful Jewish community suffers a tragedy. The reason it is so pervasive is because it is a concept with which we struggle mightily – not philosophically, but in actuality. Since biblical times, we have been working toward achieving and maintaining this goal, but we’ve had to restart that work far too often. Obviously, it is no easy task.

How does the eesh b’sadeh offer a lesson on unity when all he did was offer Yosef directions? It starts with the fact that, according to some opinions, the brothers took the sheep so far away to pasture because they wanted to get away from Yosef. Here we have disunity and conflict. Yaakov knew that there was tension between his sons. He sent Yosef anyway, with the specific mission: "ra’ey et shalom achehcha," see the peace of his brothers. Yosef is a faithful son - and some comment that he was actually oblivious to his brothers’ antipathy for him - and so he went. He loses his way, however, because his brothers have gone to a different location. Then he meets the unspecified man, the eesh b’sadeh. According to almost all of the commentaries, this man was the angel Gavriel. Some commentaries say that in his response that the brothers had left, Gavriel was warning Yosef that they were not of a mindset for peace with him. Nevertheless, he told Yosef where to go because, ultimately, Hashem wanted the brothers to be together. Hashem could send His messenger to warn Yosef and to point him in the right direction, but reconciliation of the sons of Yaakov had to come from themselves, unity must be the result of human effort.

The challenge of unity most often stems from problems with perception. By human nature we like to believe ourselves to understand the bigger picture. More challenging than that is the fact that we also tend to believe we understand other people’s motivations and thought patterns, and most of the time we are pretty far off the mark. When the ten shepherding brothers saw Yosef approach, they viewed him from their perception alone. They thought of Yosef with hatred, or with jealousy, or perhaps with fear – fear for their future. Much of their emotions stemmed from their reactions to Yosef’s dreams and their belief that he wished to rule over them. Many commentaries, however, seem to present Yosef as simply an exuberant youth who just wished to share his dreams.

And the perception of each brother was not the same, although in many ways, the picture painted by the narrative is that they were in agreement, on the whole, to get rid of Yosef. But Shimon saw him as the dreamer, the one who dreamed of being bigger, for he was the one who called out “Here comes the dreamer.” Reuvain saw him as a road to redemption, and he convinced them not to kill him so that he could rescue him and thus build himself in his father’s eyes. And Yehuda was the one who suggested selling him, looking at Yosef as a broader picture of one with whom he was connected but with whom he wanted a way to sever that connection.

The distinction between the tribes have essentially been lost by the great dispersion, but we remain in many ways, entrenched in this tribal mindset. In centuries past, we divided ourselves between our minhagim and our countries of origin. Ashkenazim marrying Sephardim was jokingly [mostly] referred to as intermarrying. In the current era, we align ourselves by denominations, and then we look at each other and we make assumptions that may be, but quite probably are not, true.

The eesh b’sadeh, the man in the field, represents people or incidents in our lives (both individual and as a people) whom Hashem sends to try to help us become whole again.  When we think back in our lives there are those moments we can find, like the words of the counselor at that camp, that give us a nudge in the right direction. However, sometimes these men in the field are not kind, they are warning that danger awaits on the path we are on. Even when we are given these guides, however, we are so often hampered by what happens next. When we allow our preconceived notions, our superficial judgments, our fear of the possibility that another might know something we do not, to inhibit us from coming together.  Like the 12 brothers who were our ancestors, the Jewish people have always had to learn how to deal with the fact that while we are all Jews, we are not homogeneous. We can't have unity if we don't learn to talk to each other like brothers. We today still need to rectify the inability of our ancestors to look and see from our brothers’ eyes.  

Tell Me Who You Are (Vayishlach #1)

There are many famous questions posed by scholars of all generations about the midnight wrestling match of Yaakov and the malach. It is amazing that even with the surprising amount of details provided, there is a myriad more details still needed to fully understand what occurred and why it is significant.

One fascinating question not among the more frequently discussed commentaries might be concerning pasuk 32:28” “Said he to him, ‘What is your name?’ and he said ‘Yaakov.’” The next verse is the famous pasuk in which Yaakov is given the new name of Yisrael, which perhaps overshadows an interesting oddity. Didn’t the malach know with whom he was wrestling? After all, he was the one who attacked Yaakov!

Let us take a step back to the beginning of the parsha and the one overriding emotion we learn from Yaakov in the beginning of Vayishlach - he was afraid. He plans and strategizes about dividing his camp. He calls out to God with almost desperate fervor, reminding God rather directly of His promise for Yaakov’s future. He sends gifts, lots of gifts, to temper his brother’s feelings.

Let us remember that he is a malach, and therefore, ultimately, an agent of Hashem. Perhaps when the malach asked for his name, what he was really doing was reminding Yaakov to be himself. The name given to him at birth is more than just a reminder that Yaakov grabbed hold of Esau’s heel as they were being born, it tells of an ongoing character trait. From the very beginning, Yaakov knew that he needed to be the one to carry on the work of Avraham, and since birth, nothing stopped him from working to attain the rights of the bachur. He used his brains (buying the birthright), he used his brawn (working hard to marry the women who were destined to create klal Yisrael), and he even challenged Hashem in how he spoke to Him after his dream.  At no point in any of these actions, not even when his mother told him that Esau wanted  to kill him or when he was facing off with Lavan as he removed his family from Haran, is Yaakov described as being fearful or scared.

Now, however, with his wives and his children and the people in his care, Yaakov is afraid. The malach saw that weakness and came to challenge him. When the dawn begins to break, the malach knows that despite all the anxiety that Yaakov has expressed, he is still just as strong in his drive to carry on Avraham’s heritage. When the malach asks his name, he is relaying a message: know yourself. This moment of self-knowledge moves Yaakov to the next level of spirituality. One might even then see significance that the term the Torah uses to describe the actions of their struggle is avek (Aleph Veis Kuf אבק), which is oddly similar to akev (Ayin Kuf Veis עקב), the root of Yaakov’s name. After the wrestling is over, Yaakov’s new level is expressed in his new name, Yisrael, when the term ya’yayavek (יאבק) is exchanged for saaris (שׂרית), a very different type of word for struggle. Then, when Yaakov asks the malach for his name, he is subtly reproved with no answer, because the malach never needed to be reminded of his essence.

When the morning comes and Yaakov is faced with meeting Esau, he is no longer afraid. Perhaps this might explain why, when he meets Esau, his wives and children appear to be divided only into family groups, fairly close together in a non-defensive structure. Now that Yaakov is once again confident of who he is and what he needs to do, he is able to face Esau and to keep him at bay with easy excuses to each of Esau’s seemingly friendly overtures.

Yaakov’s actual encounter with Esau can be, and has often been, understood as an excellent reflection of the recurring cycles of the feints of peace during the exile of Edom. This is significant today. We appear to be entering an era in which the false face of Esau is crumbling once again and the underlying ferment of hate is bubbling to the surface. The wrestling match of Yaakov and the malach of Esau is once again beginning, and we must be prepared to declare ourselves ready to stand with the strength of Yaakov as proud members of Bnei Yisrael, the descendants of he who has “striven with beings divine and human, and prevailed” (Bereishis 32:29).

Now That’s A Rock! (Vayetzei #2)

Remember that old saying, “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend”? Perhaps if your goal is gashmius (materialism) that is true, but in this week’s parsha, the Torah presents the first significant gift of a rock from a guy to a gal … and it’s ALL ruchnius (spiritual). It’s also a really big rock!

When Yaakov arrives at Haran, he finds the local shepherds and their flocks relaxing near the well. When he asks why they are not shepherding the sheep, it is explained to him that all of the shepherds gather together so that they can unite their strength and move the large rock that covers the well. No sooner have they explained this, then Rochel appears shepherding her father’s sheep. “And when Yaakov saw Rochel, the daughter of Lavan, his mother’s brother, and the flocks of Lavan, his mother’s brother, Yaakov went up and rolled the stone off the mouth of the well, and watered the flocks of Lavan, his mother’s brother. Then Yaakov kissed Rochel, and he lifted his voice and wept” (Bereishis 29:10 – 11).

A romance columnist might say he rolled the rock to impress the girl with his superior strength. But the Torah certainly isn’t wasting space with basic bravado. According to Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch, the repetition of “his mother’s brother” is an indicator that Rochel looked a great deal like her aunt. He writes: “For in everything that Yaakov did here, he was moved by the thoughts of his mother who appeared living before him in the person of her nearest relative.” More than that, perhaps seeing her approach with Lavan’s sheep had a specific meaning for Yaakov. Here he was, a stranger in Haran, sent by his mother, and his cousin arrives looking like a vision of Rivka. Seeing the similarity indicates to him what he must do to demonstrate who he is. After all, as he tells her later on, he has no possessions, nothing as proof of his identity. Therefore, just as his mother did for Eliezer, Yaakov must hurry to bring water for Rochel and for her animals. When the rock moves with such tremendous ease, he knows that this is a sign from Hashem.

It is interesting that Rabbi Moshe Alshich comments on pasuk 29:10’s vayigal et ha’even (and he rolled away the rock) that “Yaakov did not even have to roll the rock away, all he had to do was reveal the mouth of the well. The word vayigal is derived from gimmel lamed hey גלה, to reveal, not from gimmel lamed lamed גלל, to roll.” So what was revealed by moving a rock?

The fact of the matter is that there are a lot of rocks in parshas VayetzeI. In Bereishis 28, Yaakov arrives and arranges his camp with the stones of the place and goes to sleep. Hashem then brings him his famous dream of malachim on a ladder to shamayim (heaven). When he wakes up, he takes the rock upon which his head has rested, and he sets up a matzeva, a libation stone - for lack of a better English translation.

Yaakov has just been promised a great spiritual future. One might say that he has had confirmation that the brachos he received from Yitzchak had Hashem’s full approval. Now he needs a life partner to make that future happen. He wasn’t going to Haran just to escape from Esau; he was going to Haran to find his spiritual partner. When he was able to remove the rock, he knew that Rochel, too, was important for the future he was building.

Tradition informs us that the rock upon which Yaakov rested his head was no ordinary rock. Rather, as the commentator Chizkuni writes:

According to the sages in Pirkei de Rabbi Eliezer, chapter 35, this stone was the one known in later generations as the even shetiyah symbolising the navel of the globe-  a mystical stone at the site where the Holy Ark had stood in the Holy of Holies during the First Temple. This stone, if removed, would expose a hole going down to the center of the earth. It is supposed to have served G-d as the first piece of solid material of what would be the globe on which we live (translation from Sefaria).

It’s a hard concept to understand – a mystical rock that manifests in different ways throughout the ages, a rock so important to creation that was also a pillow for Yaakov’s head. Like many Midrashim, this should be looked at for the lesson rather than dwelling on the literal meaning. What Yaakov experienced on his way to Haran was a taste of pure spirituality, and that is what is important here.

There is no indication anywhere in Tradition that these two rocks, the one he set as a matzeva and the one he removed from the well, have any connection to each other. On the other hand, there is often a symbolic connection between two sections that are next to each other in the Torah. Between leaving the matzeva and arriving at the well covered by the rock, there is only one pasuk: “And Yaakov lifted up his feet and he went to Haran” (29:1). It’s an odd pasuk. The Torah often says that someone lifted up their eyes, but lifting up one’s feet is not quite so common; and why couldn’t it just say the second half of the pasuk, that Yaakov went to Haran? Rashi says that this pasuk indicates that he was so inspired that “his heart lifted his feet” (citing Bereishis Rabbah). But lifting up one’s feet indicates active effort. The Abarbanel suggests that Yaakov had trouble leaving this place filled with kedusha, especially to head for a place like Haran.

Yaakov knew enough of his uncle, from his mother’s memories and the continued communications between the families, to understand that he was heading toward a place where wealth and possessions, materialism, were valued over spiritual growth. When he got to the well and saw the loitering shepherds, he must have worried further about this new environment. Then he saw the rock, the rock covering the well … the rock that these men mired in the physical could not move. But to Yaakov, the physical world was now secondary, and seeing a large rock reminded him of all that he had experienced. Yaakov rolled that rock from the well and revealed to Rochel that her future was with him, a future of spiritual wealth. And she let him water her sheep, thus accepting his kindness. And so he kissed her and he cried, because he knew he had found his soulmate.