Parsha Miketz

Joseph is languishing in prison. Then, at the beginning of this week’s parashah, a sequence of events takes place, leading to the most rapid, radical change of fortune in the Bible. Pharaoh has two dreams that trouble his spirit. None of his priestly retinue can decode the dreams in a way that satisfies him. Pharaoh’s butler remembers Joseph. Hurriedly he is taken from prison, given a wash and change of clothes, and brought before the ruler.

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks sheds great clarification on this story: “That is the narrative on the surface. One apparently insignificant detail, however, stands out. Pharaoh has had not one dream but two: one about cows, the other about ears of grain. Joseph explains that they are the same dream, conveying the same message through different images. Why then were there two? This is his explanation: That Pharaoh has dreamed this twice means that G-d is firmly resolved on this plan, and very soon He will put it into effect. (Genesis 41:32)

At first sight, this looks like just another piece of information. Understood in the full context of the Joseph narrative, however, it changes our entire understanding of events. For it was not Pharaoh alone who had two dreams with the same structure. So too did Joseph at the very beginning of the story: one about sheaves of wheat, the other about the sun, moon and stars… It is only in retrospect that we understand the story of our life.

Later events explain earlier ones. At the time, neither Joseph nor his brothers could know that his dreams were a form of prophecy: that he was indeed destined for greatness and that every misfortune he suffered had a part to play in their coming true. At first reading, the Joseph story reads like a series of random happenings. Only later, looking back, do we see that each event was part of a precise, providential plan to lead a young man from a family of nomadic shepherds to become second-in-command of Egypt. This is a truth not about Joseph alone but about us also.

We live our lives poised between a known past and an unknown future. Between them lies a present in which we make our choices. We decide between alternatives. Ahead of us are several diverging paths, and it is up to us which we follow. Only looking back does our life take on the character of a story. Only many years later do we realise which choices were fateful, and which irrelevant. Things which seemed small at the time turn out to be decisive. Matters that once seemed important prove in retrospect to have been trivial.

Seen from the perspective of the present, a life can appear to be a random sequence of disconnected events. It takes the passage of time for us to be able to look back and see the route we have taken, and the right and wrong turnings on the way.’..It is then, with hindsight, that we begin to see how providence has guided our steps, leading us to where G-d needs us to be. That is one meaning of the phrase spoken by G-d to Moses: “Then I shall take away My hand, and you will see My back, but My face cannot not be seen.” (Exodus 33: 23) Only looking back do we see G-d’s providence interwoven with our life, never looking forward (“My face cannot not be seen”). How subtly and deftly this point is made in the story of Joseph – the supreme example of a life in which human action and Divine intervention are inextricably entwined. It is all there in the verse about the doubling of Pharaoh’s dream.

By delaying this information until later in Joseph’s life, the Torah shows us how a later event can force us to re-interpret an earlier one, teaching us the difference between two time perspectives: the present, and the understanding that only hindsight can bring to the past. It does so not by expounding complex philosophical propositions, but by the art of story-telling – a far simpler and more powerful way of conveying a difficult truth. These two time perspectives are embodied, in Judaism, in two different literatures. Through halakhah, we learn to make choices in the present. Through aggadah we strive to understand the past. Together, these two ways of thinking constitute the twin hemispheres of the Jewish brain. We are free. But we are also characters in a Divinely scripted drama. We choose, but we are also chosen. The Jewish imagination lives in the tension between these two frames of reference: between freedom and providence, our decisions and G-d’s plan.”

~Devorah Abenhaim

Parsha Vayeshev

In this week’s parshah, we see the consequences of jealousy. Joseph’s brothers’ could no longer endure the favoritism that their father displayed towards their younger brother, and plotted to rid of him in some way. Joseph was thrown into a pit, and later sold to merchants as a slave.

Fully aware that they would have some explaining to do to their father Jacob when they returned without Joseph, the brothers “dipped the coat (Joseph’s coat that was a gift from Jacob) in its (a goat’s) blood” (Genesis 37:31). There are a few questions that need to be answered: 1) Why did the brother’s fabricate an elaborate charade about what transpired with Joseph, and 2) What made Jacob think that Joseph had been devoured by a wild beast? And why did Jacob, speaking about the beast, say both has devoured him and has torn him apart?Besides, the order of what happened should have been reversed!
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The Alshekh answers these questions and explains as follows:  The brothers had debated amongst themselves how to present Joseph’s absence. Had they claimed never to have seen him, their father would organize search parties, questioning all caravans in the region. He would find out about the Ishmaelites who had traveled to Egypt.  If they would say that Joseph had been found dead, Jacob would demand to see his grave. If they would say that they had HEARD about an accident that had befallen him, they would be telling an outright lie. For these reasons, they felt it best to let Jacob form his own opinion on the basis of the faked evidence. Had they presented Joseph’s coat in an undamaged condition, Jacob would have reasoned that Joseph had taken it off, and would have searched for him, thinking him still alive. The brothers could now imply that Joseph’s fate was due to his having slandered them.

Jacob knew for certain that it was Joseph’s coat. Being unaware of any character weakness in Joseph except his tale bearing, he persuaded himself that Joseph had been punished in this cruel manner for his weakness. In the Torah, the warning not to listen to false information is preceded by the line throw it to the dogs in the book of Exodus. Shemot Rabba 31 points out that one who spreads false information deserves to be thrown to the dogs. Upon reflection, Jacob did not think that Joseph had been eaten alive; this seeing that he was made in the image of God and this having been reflected in his face even after having informed on his brothers. Therefore he assumed tarof, toraf – he had first been ripped apart by a free agent, i.e. a human being.

Afterwards, an animal had devoured his remains. This is why he repeated tarof toraf, i.e. he had been torn twice. He considered it possible that one of his sons had harmed Joseph. Jacob tore his clothing and wore sackcloth because he felt that if his interpretation of what happened was true, he himself was partly to blame. This, due to the fact that he had listened to Joseph’s tale bearing WITHOUT PROTESTING IT, although he had not believed the stories.  When the brothers saw the depth of Jacob’s grief, they did not even attempt to offer words of condolence until a long time had elapsed. The Torah states that Jacob “mourned for his son for many years”. This was because of his exceptionally close bond that existed between the soul of Jacob and the soul of Joseph. He refused to accept consolation because of what he thought had been his own part in causing the tragedy. On the contrary, he felt that he himself was eventually going to die because of his complicity in Joseph’s fate. For all these considerations, our sages read v.35,  his father wept for him, as referring to Isaac, who was aware that Joseph was still alive but dared not reveal it to his son, seeing that God had not seen fit to reveal it to him (Bereishit Rabba 84).
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~Devorah Abenhaim

Parsha Vayishlach

Vayishlach

At the beginning of this portion, Yaakov Avinu is filled with anxiety over the approaching meeting with his brother Esav after a twenty year separation. He doesn’t know what to expect. He only knows that Esav is coming towards him with four hundred men from his people. Yaakov’s lack of certainty concerning his fate is expressed very well by Rashi, with his saying that prior to this meeting, “Yaakov prepared himself for three things: for a gift, for prayer and for war” (RaSHI on Bereshit 32, 9). In other words: Yaakov didn’t know what to do – whether to tempt his brother in order to find favor in his eyes and to develop a feeling of “political horizon”, or to prepare for a destructive war, or whether to depend on the grace of The Holy One.

Rabbi Gustavo Suraszki of Ashkelon comments: “From the perspective of this weekly portion’s reader, there isn’t much room for optimism. A person reading the Torah for the first time will immediately feel that there isn’t much room for making peace, rather for revenge and the beginning of waves of violence between the two sides. There is a great probability that in the end, blood will be spilled at the site of the meeting. However, in the end, the two adversaries kiss and embrace in the center of the arena. Many commentaries have been made on this very same embrace. There are those who say that Esav “nashak” (kissed) his brother with all his heart (Rashi on Bereshit 33, 4), and there are those who say that Esav “nashach” (bit) him with all his heart. Between “kissed” and “bit” (“nashak”- “nashach”) there are innumerable commentaries.

At the beginning of our Torah portion, the Ramban says “that all what occurred to our forefather with his brother Esav will always occur to us with the sons of Esav.” He is basically describing this meeting as a “prototype” of all of the meetings that occurred over the generations between the Jewish people and the nations of the world. Meetings in which there were kisses that were also bites, and embraces that were counterfeit; meetings in which the suspicion dominated the setting.

So what do we learn from this meeting between Yaakov and Esav? Rabbi Saraszki explains his thoughts: “The first thing that it teaches us is that even if the kiss was genuine, it didn’t make them friends forever. But the most important point is not in the present story. The important point is that on that occasion, they understood that there was room in the world for both of them. And most importantly: they understood that there is no more important battle than the struggle for co-existence between two entirely different conceptions of the world.

It’s reasonable to assume that Yaakov and Esav continued to live very differently from each other as they did at the time of their births. Even if Esav invited his brother to continue the journey together in saying “… “Travel on and let us go” (Bereshit 33, 12), Yaakov quickly realized that there was no point to it. Yaakov continued along his path to the Land of Canaan, and Esav made his way to Seir. That was perhaps one of the first opportunities in history in which the slogan was made: “Two countries for two nations”.

~Devorah Abenhaim

Parsha Vayeitzei

In this week’s parasha, parashat Vayeitzei, we read of the deception of Jacob by his father-in-law, Laban. Jacob, of course, intends to marry Rachel, but discovers, only too late, that he has unwittingly married Leah. Professor Nechama Leibowitz begins her analysis by comparing the welcome that Laban extends to Eliezer, the servant of Abraham, who seeks the hand of Rebecca for Isaac, and Laban’s welcome of Jacob, who arrives alone in Charan. In Genesis 24:28-30, we are told that when Rebecca reported the arrival of Eliezer to her family, her brother, Laban, immediately runs out to the man at the well. When Laban sees the nose-ring and the bracelets on his sister’s hands, Laban gives Eliezer an enthusiastic welcome saying (Genesis 24:31), “Come O blessed of the Lord! Why should you stand outside, when I have made ready the house, and room for the camels?” On the other hand, when Laban hears that his nephew Jacob has arrived, Scripture states in Genesis 29:13, “Va’yaratz lik’rato, va’y’chabek lo, va’y’nashek lo,” Laban ran to meet Jacob, embraced him and kissed him, brought him into the house, and he [Jacob] told Laban all the events [that had happened]. While, at first glance, Laban’s welcome to Jacob seems extremely warm, Rashi cogently declares that Laban’s reason for running toward Jacob with great enthusiasm was due to Laban’s mistaken assumption that Jacob had arrived with great wealth in hand. After all, Abraham’s servant had arrived with ten camels laden with wealth. Rashi similarly maintains that Laban’s embrace and kissing of Jacob was also insincere. In fact, when Laban saw that Jacob had no camels, Laban embraced Jacob to feel if he had any gold pieces hidden in his bosom, and kissed him, to determine if he had secreted any precious jewels in his mouth.

In order to develop the picture more fully, Nehama Leibowitz analyzes Rashi’s words carefully. She points to the next verse in the text, Genesis 29:15, in which Laban says to Jacob, “Just because you are my brother, should you therefore work for me for nothing. Tell me, what shall be your wages?” Nehama Leibowitz notes Rashi’s unusual grammatical comment on the word “Va’ah’vah’d’tah’nee,” that you should work for me, implying, that if you [Jacob] work for me in the future, then I will pay you. But, all the work that you have done for me until now, will not be compensated!

Before Jacob has an opportunity to respond and declare what he believes would be fair compensation, Scripture unexpectedly interrupts. Providing a description of Laban’s two daughters, the Bible informs the readers that the name of the elder was Leah, and the name of the younger was Rachel, and that Leah was tender eyed, but Rachel was shapely and beautiful. Scripture then states that Jacob loved Rachel.

It’s at this point that Jacob responds (Genesis 29:18), “Va’yomer, eh’eh’vahd’cha sheva shah’neem b’Rachel bitcha hak’tahna,” And he [Jacob] says, I will serve you for seven years for Rachel, your younger daughter. Again, Rashi notes that Jacob obviously suspected Laban of planning to deceive him, so he carefully identified Rachel with an exacting description. “Her name is Rachel, she’s your daughter, and she’s the younger of your two daughters!” Laban, however, responds rather ambiguously, saying (Genesis 29:19), “Better I give her to you than give her to another man, stay with me.” Laban, as we see, never definitively promises that Rachel will be given as a wife to Jacob. Despite Jacob’s valiant attempt to be specific, he was cheated just the same.

Rabbi Ephraim Buchwald comments:  “And so it is not surprising that after the wedding, we learn, (Genesis 29:25), “Va’y’hee va’boker, v’heenay hee Leah,” When the morning came, behold it was Leah. Jacob’s response to this deception is great anguish–the anguish of one who has served for seven years for someone he loved, only to be cheated! Jacob cries, Genesis 29:25, “Ma zot ah’seetah lee? Ha’lo b’Rochel ahvad’tee eemach, v’lahmah ree’mee’tahnee?” What have you done to me? Did I not serve with you for Rachel? Why then have you tricked me?! Professor Leibowitz points out, that until now, all the commentators’ interpretations seem to side with Jacob, against Laban. Now, however, that sympathy vanishes. The Midrash Tanchuma maintains, that on the night of the nuptials, Leah acted as if she were Rachel. Jacob only discovers in the morning that the woman with whom he had lain was really Leah. Jacob cries out to Leah, “Daughter of the deceiver, why have you tricked me?!” According to the Midrash, Leah responds to Jacob saying defiantly, “Why did you deceive your own father? When he [Isaac] asked, ‘Are you my son Esau?’ you responded by saying, ‘I am Esau, thy first born!’ Now you ask me why I deceived you? Your own father said to Esau that you, Jacob, had come in deceit.” Jacob is obviously being paid back measure-for-measure for his own misdeeds. Not only was Jacob punished for Esau’s exceedingly bitter cry, but Laban also socks it to Jacob by saying (Genesis 29:26), “Lo yay’ah’seh chen bim’koh’may’noo, la’tayt hatz’eerah lif’nay hab’chee’rah,” It’s not done like this in our place, to give away the younger before the firstborn! Clearly Jacob is being been paid back for his deceit. Professor Leibowitz concludes, “Laban is seen here as alluding either consciously or unconsciously to Jacob’s dealing with Esau. Whatever the truth of the matter, the moral lesson remains clear–sin and deceit, however justified, bring in their wake ultimate punishment.”

~Devorah Abenhaim

Parsha Toldot

Rebecca, Isaac’s wife, finally became pregnant after many years of being barren. With regard to her pregnancy, the Torah states that the children were struggling within her womb. She therefore prayed to God and said: “If so, why am I thus?” (Genesis 25:22), or in Hebrew – “Eem ken, lamah zeh anochee?” Hashem answers Rebecca in the following verse in the Torah and states: “Two nations are in your womb; two regimes from your insides shall be separated; the might shall pass from one regime to the other, and the elder shall serve the younger.” Although this verse has been explained by many, the Or Hachayyim believes that there is still no truly satisfactory answer. God responded to her fear that she would miscarry by explaining to her that there was nothing medically wrong in her womb but that she was carrying two instead of merely one fetus. Normally, when a mother expects twins, the two fetuses get along inside the womb. In Rebecca’s case, they did not. Hence, she experienced the feeling of being crushed. She did not merely carry twins, but each one was destined to become a nation with very different characteristics from one another.

Not only would each one be a king in his own right, but these respective nations would endure for thousands of years. All of this would not contribute to her feeling of being crushed were it not for the fact that these twins did not conform to the usual patterns of twins. When God explained that “they will be totally separate already while still inside of you,” this meant that they would not only be separate inside of Rebecca, but their being separate would continue AFTER they were born. The Or Hachayyim continues to explain that an additional factor preventing the two peoples from dwelling together in harmony: each one will derive its strength from the defeat of the other. He cites a similar concept in a statement from Megillah 6 that the city of Tzor attained its true prominence only through the fall of Jerusalem. Seeing that each nation therefore anxiously awaits the downfall of the other, there is no hope that they will live together in brotherly harmony.

Prior to the Torah recording the birth of Jacob and Esau, it tells us that Rebecca “completed the days of her pregnancy” (25:24). Why would the Torah find it necessary to tell us this? Torat Moshe comments that in Berachot 5, it states that whereas in this case the nine-month pregnancy was completed, in the case of Tamar and her twins, it was not. Tamar’s twins were born after a pregnancy of six months and 3 days (Genesis 38:27). We need to understand why Rebecca who suffered such discomfort had to complete nine months of her pregnancy, whereas Tamar was spared almost one-third of her pregnancy. The Midrash tells us that if Rebecca had not exclaimed why am I alive, an exclamation of exasperation, she would have become the mother of all 12 tribes. The numerical value of the word ‘zeh’ in her exclamation is the basis for the interpretation. Also, in Rebecca’s case, the word for twins, ‘teomim’, is spelled defectively without the aleph, since one of her children would be wicked. In the case of Tamar, both of her sons were righteous. There, the word for twins is spelled normally. By allowing Rebecca to complete her pregnancy, each child became complete. Esau was COMPLETELY hairy, unlike humans, whereas Jacob was COMPLETELY devoid of any impurities which Esau was full of. Esau, being the firstborn, exited the womb together with the blood – depicting his future lifestyle. Jacob, on the other hand, was unhurried, and content to wait until Esau had left the womb.

~Devorah Abenhaim

Parsha Chayei Sarah

In an ironic twist, the portion dealing with the death of Sarah is called Chayei Sarah, “The Life of Sarah,”but on second thought, it is not really so strange. We celebrate a person’s life only when it has been rounded out.. But instead of a eulogy, the portion begins with a long passage describing Abraham’s acquiring the cave of Machpelah as a burial place for his wife, Sarah. The following chapter tells the story of Abraham’s servant finding Rebekah and bringing her back to become the wife of Abraham’s son Isaac. Notably, Isaac brings Rebekah to the tent of his recently deceased mother, where “he took Rebekah, and she became his wife and he loved her. Thus did Isaac take comfort after [the death of] his mother”(Genesis 24:67).

It is disappointing that Sarah’s life is only hinted at in the portion that bears her name, and we are left to fill in the blanks only from events as told from Abraham’s perspective. We cannot know whether Sarah has truly lived the life she meant to live—kept her values, lived up to her integrity—until we see the whole of her life. So let us try to reconstruct her life based on what we know.
When Abraham was called in Lech L’cha to leave his father’s house, Sarah naturally went with him. She, too, was taken from her home, her kindred, but to a land that would be shown to her husband, not to her. We know she was barren and that it grieved her enough to offer her servant Hagar to her husband so that he could have a son. We know that she is twice called beautiful, but Abraham used her beauty for his own purposes. He put her at great risk by passing her off as his sister, because he feared that if the Egyptians knew that she was his wife, he would be killed. He did not object when Pharaoh took her as his own wife—that is, until God afflicted Pharaoh with plagues (Genesis 12). Abraham repeated this ruse with Abimelech (Genesis 20). We know that Sarah longed for a son and was finally blessed with the birth of Isaac, which seemed to answer her distress and give meaning to her life. One midrash suggests that her fear for Isaac’s life during the Akeidah caused her death ( Pirkei D’Rabbi Eliezer 31). With hardly any other clues, we are left to discover, if we can, who Sarah was in herself and in her relationship with God.

Dr. Carol Ochs, a professor at Hebrew Union College, explains that  the most important traces of Sarah can be found in the life of her son. When Rebekah first sees Isaac and he is meditating in a field, it is evident that Sarah had helped him develop his own relationship with God. Isaac, as the Torah points out, loved his wife, and unlike the other patriarchs, he was monogamous. Also he is the only one of the three to pray to God on behalf of a barren wife (Genesis 25:21). With the death of his mother, Isaac exhibited both a capacity to mourn and a capacity to be comforted. Abraham was the first and the great innovator of the faith. Jacob grew to be the ancestor of the twelve tribes. Isaac merely re-dug his father’s wells. But his faithfulness, modesty, and humility say much about him and about his mother, who raised him. We have been led to believe that greatness comes from carrying out flamboyant deeds and taking courageous stances. Today we recognize the deeper courage that lies in endurance, in day-to-day faithfulness granted not for recognition, wealth, or power, but for its own sake.

If we regard the Torah’s depiction of Isaac as a text that sheds light on the life of Sarah, we recognize a woman who had to fashion her own relationship with God. She was capable of abiding love and fidelity to her spouse and son. Also, she could endure the harshness of the land, even in times of famine, and the deeper harshness of her husband’s silent ways. We celebrate the life of Sarah not simply because she passed on the line of the covenant, but because in the values she passed on to her son, she exerted a tempering influence on the severe ways of patriarchy. Because of her, Jewish wives can expect to be loved, exclusively, by their spouses. They can expect a relationship that is mutual and that is shaped by a shared relationship with God. And they can know that through their own fidelity and endurance, they contribute significantly to the line of the covenant.

~Devorah Abenhaim