VaYigash - Righteous Grumblings

Shortly after his family resettles in Egypt, Joseph brings his saintly father to meet Pharoah. Struck by how old Jacob looked, Pharoah asks him one question: “How many are the days of the years of your life?” Jacob replies: “The days of the years of my travels are a hundred and thirty years. Few and evil have been the years of my life and I have not attained the years of life of my fathers in the days of their travels” (47:8-9). Accepting that Jacob faced many trials in his life with his brother Esau, his wives, and his father-in-law, as well as the abduction of his daughter, bitter infighting between his sons, and the disappearance of his son, his response to Pharoah is still perplexing. Is this the way a righteous man, who (we would think) models an acceptance of God’s will, speaks about his life to a major world leader?   

Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman (Ramban), a noted community leader and scholar in 13^th century Spain, asks this very question. He suggests that Jacob’s answer was intended to address Pharoah’s puzzlement at Jacob’s aged appearance, which was uncommon in Egypt. Jacob’s reply stated, in essence: “I look older than most people because I’ve faced many painful situations.”

I would suggest another rationale for Jacob’s seemingly bitter response to Pharoah. Jacob’s practice was to keep a distance from people who he viewed as unsavory or as potentially poor moral role models for his children and grandchildren. We can see this practice reflected in Jacob’s negative response to his brother Esau’s offer that they travel together (33: 12- 14), and his quick flight from his father in law’s house (Chapter 31). Jacob may have sensed that Pharoah would take a keen interest in the elderly father of his top official, Joseph. So Jacob did what he could to discourage Pharoah’s interest, by offering a sour and bitter outlook on life in their first encounter. It seems that Jacob’s tactic was successful, because the Torah records no further contact between the two men.

MeKaytz - Plausibility Quotient?

Pharoah, the king of perhaps the greatest superpower country in that era, tells Joseph – a Hebrew slave and the former prisoner – about his two dreams and Joseph offers a compelling interpretation, as well as some advice on how to handle the dream’s forecast of future events. Pharoah reacts by stating: “Can we find someone like this, in whom resides the spirit of God?” … Since God has caused you to know all this, there is none so discreet and wise as you. You shall be over my house and according to you all my people shall be ruled; only in the throne will I be greater than you.” (41:38-40).

I find Pharoah’s reaction hard to fathom. Yes, the dream interpretation and the advice may have seemed quite fitting, even wise. But would anyone – let alone a formidable ruler like Pharoah – turn around and immediately appoint a total stranger to be prime minister? There’s no background check, no apprenticeship, no offer of a cushy post as ‘top advisor’ – instead, Pharoah installs Joseph as almost a political rival. How can that be?

Some Biblical commentators suggest that Joseph’s interpretation was so spot-on, it demonstrated that he knew more about the dreams then Pharoah initially revealed. Noticing this, Pharoah understood that Joseph was Divinely inspired and put him in the best post to capitalize on his Godly connection. And then there’s a midrashic story (Talmud Sotah, 36B) that posits that Pharoah subjected Joseph to a leadership assessment test, in which he challenged Joseph to prove his mastery of different languages. In the course of the test, Joseph not only demonstrated mastery of the 70 known languages but also showed his knowledge of Hebrew, which Pharoah could not master. To cover up the fact that he was bested in this situation, Pharoah offered Joseph the top position on condition that he swear not to reveal the results of the language test to anyone else.

The explanations are interesting. But I have a difficult time connecting either one to the text in the Torah portion. So, for me, the question persists.

VaYayshev - Holding Steady

A young Joseph relates one of his prophetic dreams to his eleven brothers: “Behold, we were binding sheaves in the midst of the field and lo, my sheaf arose and also stood upright; and behold your sheaves came around it and bowed down to my sheaf.” (37:7). One of many questions that can be asked on this dream is – what is the significance of the fact that Yosef’s sheaf not only arose but “also stood upright”? Is there a distinct message in this added phrase?

Rabbi Shmuel Borenstein, a noted rabbi in Poland in the late nineteenth century/early twentieth century and author of the Biblical commentary Shem MiShmuel, took note of this seemingly superfluous phrase. He correlated it with a line in Psalms: “Who will go up to the mountain of God and who will stand in His holy place?” (24:3).  Rabbi Borenstein explained that both lines point to the idea that it is one thing to achieve a distinct level of spirituality, but it is another, deeper challenge to maintain that level of accomplishment. Human nature prompts us to constantly grow and change; it is no simple feat, then, to maintain a high level of religious devotion despite the changes we experience in age, attitude, ability, and interests. Joseph’s dream, then, hinted at one of his great strengths – his incredible constancy in spiritual conviction and in moral behavior, despite the vicissitudes he faced.

This insight on the verse has tremendous relevance for us all. In our marriages, as parents, in our professional lives, as devoted volunteers, in our spiritual lives, and in other spheres we may find that our concerted efforts and diligence yield moments of accomplishment. These achievements are indeed worth celebrating. But the greater challenge lies is insuring that our accomplishments remain constant and are not eroded by our human frailties.

VaYishLach - Expecting struggle

I’d assert that one of the unfortunate downsides of modern Western culture, with its remarkable advances in technology and its focus on personal independence and the pursuit of happiness, is an expectation that – for the most part – good things will happen to us. In the extreme we can see this attitude in alarming social ills like road rage, drug abuse, and alcoholism, as well as the frighteningly high rate of divorce. More commonly, we might see this attitude in the low national rates of civic involvement and voter turnout, as well as the correspondingly high rates of TV viewership. All these troubling developments reflect a bias towards bliss and a collective retreat from the difficulties of regular life.  As a society we think that life should be happy, even easy, and we recoil when troubles come our way.

At the other end of the spectrum, a truly righteous and intellectually sophisticated person expects there to be struggle and challenge in life. He does not expect a life of ease. And he is actually surprised when he’s achieved a string of successes, wondering if something is amiss.

This perspective is illustrated nicely in this week’s Torah reading.  Preparing for his encounter with his brother Esau after 20 years absence, and fearing that his brother is murderously angry with him, Jacob prays to God. Despite the Lord’s recent promise to him, “Return to the land of your fathers and to your family, and I will be with you.” (31:3) Jacob worries and states in his prayer: “I am not worthy of all the kindnesses and all the truth which you have done for your servant” (32:11).

Jacob does not see his successful escape from the home of his deceitful father-in-law, days earlier, nor the wealth and large family he’s built in the intervening 20 years, as his due. Nor does he take God’s promise for granted. Rather, he prays with genuine concern because he understands that life is often difficult and – even with God’s explicit blessing – a person can still face searing challenges and will need Divine favor to succeed.