[Jewish] Weekly D'var Torah (Torah Commentary) on Parashat Vayigash

[Steven Nathan]

Dear Hampshire Jewish Community,
I sent this D'var Torah on Friday, but for some reason it wasn't 
delivered. Oh well, better late than never.  I hope you're all staying warm.

Steven


This week's Torah portion, Vayigash( Genesis 44:18), begins with the words
"Vayigash aylav Yehudah...." "And Judah drew near" to Joseph to plead 
for his brother Benjamin's freedom. Judah volunteered to be taken as a 
slave in Benjamin's stead, so that his father Jacob would not 'lose' 
another son.
 
Judah's pleas to keep him instead of Benjamin, the youngest son, and the 
only other son of Joseph's mother, Rachel -- was dearest to their 
father.  Moved by Judah's entreaty, Joseph decides to reveal himself to 
the brothers.  Moved to tears, he orders his servants to leave them 
alone so that he may reveal his true identity. He told them not to feel 
guilty for having left him in the pit. It was God's plan that Joseph 
should end up in Egypt, where he could predict the famine, become 
Pharaoh's administrator, and save his own family from starvation. Joseph 
told his brothers to return to Jacob and bring the entire clan to Egypt 
where he will ensure their well-being for the remaining years of the famine.

For the past two weeks I have viewed the Joseph narrative as an allegory 
for the journey of the ego and the negation of the ego in order to allow 
the soul to shine forth.  Today's parashah is the climax of the story.  
Joseph, faced with the reality of all the suffering that an ego can 
bring on the world realizes that he must reunite all the pieces of 
himself in order to reconnect with the soul.  He sends away his Egyptian 
servants, representative of his ego's "power" and standing there, 
stripped of all sense of pretense and self-importance, breaks down into 
tears and reunites with all the disparate aspects of himself and his 
universe. This eventually results in the reuniting with Jacob, his 
father, his human source of life (along with his long-deceased mother). 
This represents the oneness that we find when we reunite ourselves with 
our our divine source, the oneness of existence (however one chooses to 
define or experience that sense of oneness).

This story of reconciliation is a moving one and brings us closer to the 
end of this chapter in Joseph's life.  Yet, as always, there is another 
chapter yet to be lived.  In sharing these thoughts on the reunion as 
representative of the journey of negating the ego, I would also like to 
share with you an original Midrash (allegorical tale in the rabbinic 
tradition) that I wrote concerning this parashah.

In this Midrash, Joseph's ultimate decision is brought about by yet 
another dream of his, one that calls not on father as source of life, 
but on mother, and which leads him to his ultimate decision.  I hope 
that you find this meaningful and enjoyable.

Shabbat Shalom,

Steven

Joseph's Choice

Joseph was seated on his throne as he watched his brothers preparing to 
leave.  They had just enjoyed a sumptuous feast together.  They enjoyed 
each other's company as if they were old friends and had no idea that 
they were dining with their brother, nor that he had been setting a trap 
for them this entire time.

As they prepared to leave Joseph sprang his trap.  "Wait," he cried, 
"someone has stolen my golden goblet.  The perpetrator shall be caught 
and punished appropriately."  Amid the denial of all 11 brothers Joseph 
watched as his men searched their bags.  When the goblet was found in 
the sack belonging to Benjamin, the only other son of Rachel, Joseph 
could hear the jaws of the trap slam shut.  "This one shall remain here 
as my slave as punishment for the wrong he has done me.  The rest of you 
may return to your father."

Then something happened that Joseph never expected.  Judah, the one who 
had been so instrumental in what happened to Joseph all those years ago, 
offered himself in Benjamin's stead, rather than see the only other son 
of Rachel, the child of Jacob's old age, remain captive, thereby 
grieving -- and possibly killing -- their elderly father.

As Joseph stood there looking down on his brothers, he could feel hatred 
and triumph raging in his heart. Yet, somewhere else deep inside he felt 
another emotion trying to emerge, though he did his best to keep it 
repressed.  For he knew that this emotion was compassion, the source of 
forgiveness, and he did not want to forgive.  Above all else, he wished 
nothing less than that.  To see his brothers suffer as he did was his 
greatest desire.  Only after that might he be willing to entertain any 
other idea.

As he felt his hatred and compassion struggling within him he suddenly 
remember a dream that he had the night before that held the key to his 
decision.

In this dream, he imagined that he was standing, just as he was now, 
above his brothers as they watched the golden goblet emerge from 
Benjamin's sack.  In that moment, it appeared all the brothers turned as 
one towards Benjamin, pointing an accusing finger.  They encircled him 
like lions surrounding their prey, moving ever closer to him, tightening 
the circle, preventing his escape.

Then, Joseph saw that there was a deep pit in the earth just behind 
Benjamin.  As the other brothers moved closer to Benjamin he continued 
to step back in fear, unaware of the danger behind him.  As Benjamin 
stood almost at the edge of the pit, Joseph cried out "stop!"  This the 
brothers did.  What happened next astonished Joseph even more than it 
did his brothers.  For Joseph descended the steps from his throne and 
pushed aside the brothers.  He then stood in front of Benjamin and 
looked deeply into his eyes, not saying a word.  All held their breath, 
wondering what he would do.  He then reached out his hands and placed 
them on Benjamin's shoulders, all the while fixing his gaze on those 
familiar eyes.  Then, without warning, Joseph shoved Benjamin as hard as 
he could and listened to his scream as he fell into the pit.  The 
brothers gasped as they witnessed history repeating itself.

The room was silent, but for the low sobs rising from the depths where 
Benjamin lay.  Joseph looked down into the pit, but he could see nothing 
in the darkness, except for Benjamin's eyes looking up at him through 
his tears.  As he looked deeply into the well, into the eyes of Rachel's 
only other son, he suddenly heard a wail like he had never heard 
before.  This cry pierced his heart; it pierced the heavens.  It was as 
if it's grief could tear the world in two.

Then Joseph awoke.  Yet, he was confused, for the wail still continued.  
He looked around his bedchamber, but could not find its source.  He 
looked outside, but no one was there.  He wanted to follow the sound of 
the cry, but he could not tell from which direction it came.  It was as 
if the cry came from everywhere and from nowhere.  It was as if it came 
from deep within Joseph, himself.

Then the wail changed to a deep sobbing, which gave way to the voice of 
a woman crying softly, "Joseph, my Joseph, what have you done to your 
brother? What have you done to yourself? To me? To us all?"  Joseph knew 
that voice.  For even though he had not heard it since he was a youth, 
it was a voice he would never forget.  For who could ever forget the 
voice of his mother?  Joseph remained silent.

Then his mother spoke again.  "Joseph, you must undo what you have 
done.  You must release your brother from the pit.  You must undo what 
has been done to him and to you."  Finally Joseph spoke, "But how? Why?  
For all these years, I have never forgotten what my brothers did to me.  
Not a day has passed when I did not dream of setting things right.  Now 
my opportunity has arrived.  How can you deny me this justice, mother?"

"Justice!" replied Rachel, "this is not justice.  This is hatred.  This 
is revenge.  This is what will eventually bring about the destruction of 
our family, our people and all humanity, if it does not cease."  Joseph 
again remained silent, as his mother continued.  "Joseph, look down into 
the pit.  Look into the eyes of the only other child ever to emerge from 
my womb.  "But the pit is not here," replied Joseph, "that was merely in 
my dream."  "Look," Rachel commanded.  Suddenly Joseph saw that there 
was indeed a pit in front of him, just as in the dream.  Perhaps he had 
never really awoken? Perhaps he simply went from one dream into 
another?  Or perhaps in that moment there was no separation between the 
world of dreams and the world of reality? He did not know.

Joseph looked into the pit and saw his brother's eyes staring at him 
through the darkness.  "Look deeply into those eyes," implored Rachel, 
"and tell me who you see."  Joseph looked deeply for what seemed an 
eternity, then he spoke, "I see my brother....I see you, my mother 
.....I see myself." "Exactly," exclaimed Rachel, "Benjamin is you and 
I.  But he is also your other brothers.  He is your family -- a family 
that has tricked and deceived so many through the years.  A family where 
twin brothers vied for parental blessings.  A family where sisters 
strove with one another for a man's love and attention.  A family where 
brothers plotted together to destroy the life of another brother.  He is 
all of this, as are you.

"Continue looking into his eyes, my beloved son, and you will see 
yourself in him.  Then look inside your soul and you will see him, as 
well as the rest of our family, in you.  You must release him from his 
captivity.  If you do not, neither you nor anyone in our family will 
every be free!"

Joseph suddenly looked up from the pit, breaking gaze with his brother, 
and cried into the air, "But why should I release him?  You said it 
yourself; in our family, it has always been brother against brother, 
sister against sister.  Perhaps it is in seeking retribution that is 
meant to be part of our destiny!"

"No!" cried Rachel, "I have come to you from my grave to tell you that 
this is not the way.  I am here in Bethlehem alone.  I was not buried 
with my family.  I was not gathered to my ancestors, as is our custom. I 
was left out here alone by the side of the road, as a reminder of what 
jealousy and struggle brings.  I may have received more love from your 
father than did my sister, but in doing all I could to see that this 
would never change, I separated myself from her, and ultimately from 
everything and everyone.

"Yet, I know that Leah and I never hated one another, as you believe you 
hate your brothers.  We just were too narrow-minded and selfish to see 
that we were part of each other.  Perhaps we understood this at the 
beginning, but as the competition for love and children continued we 
could each only see our individual suffering and pain.  We were blind to 
the suffering of the other and everyone around us, just as your father 
had been blind to the suffering of his brother when he stole the 
blessing and the birthright.  Do not be blind Joseph!  See ... not with 
your eyes, but with your soul.  Listen ... not with your ears, but with 
your heart.  See the suffering of your brother; for it is your 
suffering, it is the suffering of all humanity.  Hear his sobs, for they 
are your sobs, they are the sobs of all who desire simply to live in 
freedom and happiness and are prevented from doing so.  Hear him and see 
him now, for he is the same as you, all those years ago.  He is the same 
as those yet to be born who will also suffer so long as there is hatred 
in the world.  Look ... Listen ... Feel ... my beloved, and you will 
understand what I mean."

Slowly Joseph walked again to the edge of the pit and looked down at his 
younger brother.  He had been but a mere child when Joseph was sold into 
slavery.  He looked down and saw the eyes that were his and his 
mothers.  As he continued to look, he began to feel the hatred well up 
within him once again.  Then he remembered his mother's plea.  He 
breathed in deeply and looked again, this time with his soul.  He saw 
the pain and the fear in his brother.  The longer he stood there, the 
more he felt the same pain and fear within himself.  He wanted to run 
from it, but he did not.  He knew he needed to stay there, still, quiet, 
and allow himself to feel these emotions, no matter how difficult it 
might be.  Then he began to truly listen, for the first time, to the 
sounds coming from the well.  They were not sounds of hatred, envy or 
jealousy.  They were the sounds of pain, the cries of someone who did 
not know if he would see sunlight again.  The sounds of someone who 
believed that he would soon die and never again know happiness.  They 
were the sounds that Joseph had made all those years ago as he lay in 
the pit alone, prepared to die.

As he truly looked and listened, he could feel the pain, fear and 
longing deep within him.  As he continued to pay attention to those 
feelings, he then sensed them slowly turning into a sense of compassion 
and mercy toward his brother, towards himself, toward his brothers and 
towards all in the world who are suffering.  As the compassion and mercy 
grew, the pain, fear -- and anger -- diminished.  Not that it 
disappeared totally, but it did disappear enough for him to begin to 
realize that his mother was right.  The only way to break the cycle of 
anger, fear, jealousy and hatred that had plagued his family was to 
release Benjamin -- and himself -- from the pit.  The only way to do his 
small part in bringing compassion and peace to humanity and the world 
was to show compassion towards Benjamin.  No.  Not just Benjamin.  He 
needed to show compassion and mercy to all of his brothers.  The past 
was past.  This was a new day, a new moment.  And Joseph had the 
opportunity to change the present.  Hopefully, the future would follow 
suit, but that would remain to be seen.

At that moment, Joseph realized that he was still in his throne room, 
surrounded by his brothers.  He saw the youngest, Benjamin, not deep in 
a pit, but in the clutches of his men, prepared to be taken into 
slavery.  He saw Judah, now with a look of bravery and compassion on his 
face, prepared to take Benjamin's place so that their father would not 
again experience a loss like he had when they sold Joseph into slavery.  
The faces were the same as all those years ago, yet they were completely 
different.  As he looked at them, he felt love and compassion begin to 
well up inside of him and he knew what he must do.

He ordered his guards to release Benjamin and then commanded them to 
leave him alone with these Canaanite men.  He knew that he was about to 
reveal his true self to his brothers and that they were about to begin 
the process of which his mother had dreamed.  His reunion with them, 
with himself, and ultimately with his father, was about to begin.

He had no idea how things would turn out.  All he knew in that moment 
was what he must do in order to bring some peace and healing to his 
family and himself, thereby bringing a little more peace and wholeness 
to all of God's creation then, and hopefully in the future.. 

-- 

Steve Nathan

 


Steven P. Nathan

Campus Rabbi and

Interim LGBTQ Advisor

Hampshire College 
                                                           

Office of Spiritual Life -- Box SA

Amherst, MA 01002

Phone: (413) 559-6234

Fax: (413) 559-5663

snathan at hampshire.edu <mailto:snathan at hampshire.edu>


 

"The more deeply immersed I became in the thinking of the prophets, the 
more powerfully it became clear to me what the lives of the prophets 
sought to convey: that morally speaking there is no limit to the concern 
one must feel for the suffering of human beings. It also became clear to 
me that in regard to cruelties committed in the name of a free society, 
some are guilty, all are responsible."

-Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel

-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <https://lists.hampshire.edu/pipermail/jewish/attachments/20071216/9aaa074a/attachment.htm>