Joseph & His Brothers

'Then Joseph said to his brothers, "Please come closer to me," and they drew closer. And he said, "I am your brother Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt. But now do not be sad, and let it not trouble you that you sold me here, for it was to preserve life that God sent me before you.' (Genesis 45:4-5)

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In this week's Torah portion, Vayigash, after an intense and moving dialogue between Joseph and Judah, Joseph finally reveals himself to his brothers, that he is the viceroy to Egypt's kingdom and their long lost brother. Our Sages remark that the shock and surprise they felt at that moment is akin to the shock we will feel at the time of the redemption and coming of Mashiach, when we will understand God's Presence was here all along.

What's so powerful and insightful here is Joseph's magnanimous reaction to his brother's ill treatment of him in the past. Hated by his brothers, Joseph was thrown into a pit and instead of killing him, his brothers sold him to a caravan of Ishmaelites. We know the rest of the story, as Joseph moves from servant to prisoner, and then rises to 2nd in command of the strongest nation of his time, with the vision and interpretation of Pharaoh's dream that famine was on its way that ultimately saved not only Egypt's people, but the entire Middle East. 

How often do we focus on the deeper reasons behind what happens to us? Judaism teaches that everything that happens to us has a Divine plan and significance behind it. Yes, those that execute those plans toward us have free choice to do so, but that event was meant to happeneither way. It is up to us to choose to focus on the messenger of that plan, or the Director of the plan behind it all. Joseph chose to live his life according to the latter. He was meant to experience hard times, to descend into Egypt and servitude, in order to save the world. His brothers did wrong him, but he chose not to dwell on their mistake, but on the Divine plan behind it that was no mistake at all. 

{Mind and perspective are crucial to interpersonal peace. At the end of Ch. 12 in his magnum opos, Tanya, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi writes a radical idea when we are wronged: So, too, in matters between man and his fellow-man. As soon as there rises from his heart to his mind any animosity or hatred, God forbid, or jealousy, anger or a grudge, he will bar them from his mind and will, refusing even to think of them. On the contrary, his mind will prevail over and dominate the feelings of his heart, to do the exact opposite of that which the heart desires, namely, to conduct himself toward his fellow with the quality of kindness and to display towards his fellow a disproportionate love, in suffering from him to the furthest extreme, without being provoked into anger or to take revenge in kind, God forbid, even without anger; but, on the contrary, to repay offenders with favors, as taught in the Zohar, that we should learn from the example of Joseph’s conduct with his brothers, when he repaid them for the suffering they brought upon him, with kindness and favors.}   

Like our forefather Joseph, let's try to focus on the deeper plan and not on the superficial experiences that occur to us. This doesn't mean to roll over and accept abuse, but rather to recognize that those around us have zero control over our fate, and that what happens to us has a deeper purpose.

Shabbat Shalom!    

The Flames of Chanukah

There are only a few things in this world that a person can gaze at for a while and get lost in. One of those things is a flame of fire. As it flickers upward and back down again, tearing itself away from its contact with wick or wood, it somehow radiates a quiet tranquility. We are now in the midst of the 8 nights of Chanukah, commemorating the victory of Jewish freedom over hellenist Greek oppression - light over darkness. As we watch the candles dance on these nights of Chanukah, what lessons can we take into our lives from the flickering flames? 

  

A small candle lights up a dark room. Like the candle in the dark, our individual actions and positive thoughts and speech, can have a strong effect on our surroundings, especially in an area of spiritual darkness. 

Growing slowly, one candle at a time. Why don't we light all 8 candles each night? The lesson in lighting only one more candle each night, is that we must strive to grow as people and as Jews, one step at a time. One mitzvah, one action that we connect with. That type of growth is slower, but lasting.
One candle can light infinite others. When lighting from one flame to another, notice that the original flame loses nothing. When helping others, we may think we are diminished - our time, financially, emotionally. But the truth is that we gain and fortify ourselves greater than before. And the ripple effect of our actions can carry on infinitely. See this video for  an awesome example of this. There are so many other lessons, but let's end with this:

"The soul of a person is a candle of G-d" [Proverbs 20:27]. The soul descends into a body and material life, in order to carry out its individual mission on earth. On one hand, our souls desire to leave the "wick" - the body - and return to its source in heaven and spiritual bliss, like the candle always yearning upward. But ultimately the soul's purpose is on the wick, for only in the body is it able to perform its crucial mission of making the world a beautiful, G-dly place. Maybe the reason we like to stare at the flames of the candles, is because we are really staring into ourselves.

Shabbat Shalom & a very happy Chanukah to you!

The Light of Joseph

In this week's Torah Portion, Vayeshev, we are first introduced to the great Joseph: "Yakov settled in the land of his father. These are the descendants of Yakov: Yosef was 17 years old." It's not by coincidence that every year the Torah portions about Yosef fall during the holiday of Chanukah (begins this Tuesday Night). Every holiday is associated with a forefather; Avraham with Passover, Isaac with Shavuot and Yakov with Sukkot. But who best exemplified the light of Chanukah?

     At the beginning of the Torah's account of creation, G-d fashions a special light and hides it, calling it "good" - tov. Tov in hebrew is numerically equivalent to 17, the age of Yosef in this week's Torah portion. If that wasn't enough numerical connection for you, on Chanukah we light a total of 36 candles, and Yosef's mother Rachel died at the age of 36. Leah's Hebrew name equals 36, and Yosef's father Yakov was away from his home for 36 years. 

     In the book of Ovadiah (1:18), we read: "The house of Yakov will be fire, the house of Yosef a flame, and the house of Esau straw, and they will ignite them and devour them." Esau represents spiritual numbness, the darkness of exile full of assimilation and spiritual insensitivity. Yosef represents the light of the Jewish soul, able to illuminate this darkness with his flame of goodness and holiness like the menorah of Chanukah at night, even amidst the temptations and loneliness he experienced in Egypt.
   
     As we watch the candles flicker on these upcoming 8 nights, let us meditate on their strength and power. A little bit of light dispels a lot of darkness. We light only one additional candle each day. We learn from this that our inner character growth can be slow and incremental, as long as it's real. Then it will last.

Happy Chanukah!

-Rabbi Daniel Bortz