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Sunday, December 13, 2015

Parashat Vayigash 5776 Seeing a Ghost


Echoes of Eden
Rabbi Ari Kahn
Parashat Vayigash 5776
Seeing a Ghost

They never saw it coming: The dramatic, unexpected end to the saga in which they were embroiled was the last thing the brothers anticipated - and that was precisely the problem. The scrutiny to which they had been subjected seemed unwarranted. Why, of all the visitors who came to Egypt to purchase food, had they been singled out? Why the interest in their family, their father, their brother Binyamin?

When they attempt to return the money that had mysteriously turned up in their bags, the brothers’ misinterpretation of the events that had transpired in Egypt becomes clear: They convince themselves that everything that had happened was part of a plot to rob them of their possessions and their freedom.

When the men [realized that] they were being brought to Yosef's palace, they were terrified. They said, 'We are being brought here because of the money that was put back in our packs the last time. We are being framed and will be convicted, our donkeys will be confiscated, and we might be taken as slaves.' (Bereishit 43:18)

Had they thought things through more calmly and rationally, they might have asked themselves why the second-most powerful man in Egypt would need some paltry excuse to seize their meager possessions; moreover, the Egyptian ruler’s modus operandi - placing his own money in their bags - seems strange and counter-intuitive: Had the Egyptian wanted to keep their donkeys, he could have left all of the brothers in prison, rather than freeing them after three days, and their donkeys and very lives would have been his.

Apparently, the human mind has a powerful capacity to rationalize, justify and fabricate alternative explanations to the obvious when the simple truth is too difficult to face. In flagrant disregard for Occam’s Razor[1], the brothers built intricate and improbable hypotheses to explain their predicament. Had they been able or willing to open their eyes, they would have saved themselves so much confusion, fear and angst. Their adversary was not a stranger; they had known him their entire lives, but were unable or unwilling to recognize him. The obvious solution eluded them, because in their minds it was impossible in so many ways. This person could not possibly be Yosef: Yosef was a dreamer, with no grasp of reality. Yosef was probably not even alive: As a slave, Yosef must have annoyed his master to the point that he did what the brothers themselves could not. On the other hand, who other than Yosef would have cared about their youngest brother and their father? Who else had any reason to throw them in prison? Who else cared enough to carry on this protracted game of wits, to maintain contact only to continue to threaten and abuse them?

The brothers never dreamed that they would bow to Yosef; ironically, when they finally did bow before him, the brothers were unaware that Yosefs dreams had come to fruition: They did not know that it was Yosef to whom they bowed. They bowed to the man who controlled all the food in Egypt; in a very real sense, they had not bowed to Yosef, but to a strange Egyptian potentate. They never dreamed that this was their own brother.

The Midrash offers a more detailed account of the moments in which Yosef finally revealed himself to his brothers: At first, Yosef told them that their missing brother, the brother they had claimed was dead, was in fact very much alive. The brothers were stunned, incredulous. Yosef then assured them that this long-lost brother was in the palace; in fact, he told them, I will call him and he will appear before your eyes. He called out, Yosef son of Yaakov, come to me! Yosef son of Yaakov, show yourself! The brothers scanned every corner of the room, searching for Yosef, until Yosef finally declared, I am Yosef - and the brothers (almost) died. (Bereishit Rabbah 93:9)

Even when they are told that Yosef is in the room, they look everywhere - except at the man who stands before them.

Sometimes, jealousy and hatred can be so strong that we underestimate the person who is the object of our hatred. By belittling their worth, we justify our own bad behavior. Because the brothers hated Yosef, they could not see the truth - even as it stared directly at them. When they were finally forced to recognize Yosef, they were dumbfounded, shocked almost to death. As if struck by lightning or confronted by a ghost, that moment of enlightenment forced them to recognize their many crimes.

They had hated their brother for no reason. Yosef had not been suffering from delusions of grandeur; he was, and always had been, capable of greatness. They suspected him of vanity and a false sense of superiority, but it was they who suffered from myopathy: They could not, or would not, see what was, and always had been, right in front of them. In the end, they had bowed to him, just as he had dreamed they would. They relied on him for sustenance, as his dream foretold. They understood, too, that if revenge was on his mind, he was certainly in a position to do anything he wished to them, and not merely take their few donkeys.

In one dazzling moment, the brothers world was turned upside down. They were not victims, as they had imagined, of this mans abuse; they themselves were the abusers. They might tell their story, and perhaps even garner sympathy from anyone and everyone else but there was one person in the world who was not fooled. They might have taken comfort in self-pity and self-righteousness had they been standing before any other accuser, but the man who stood before them was Yosef, the one person who knew their darkest secret, the person who had been their victim, the brother they had put out of their minds for so many years. Yehudahs impassioned speech, so full of righteous indignation, suddenly seemed hollow, even laughable. Now, they were forced to remember: They had another brother, he was in the room, staring right at them, and he was everything they had tried to deny: Yosef was a visionary, a man of unparalleled talents and strengths, a man of the highest moral caliber. He had risen far above them in every way, but he was willing to go even further, to do the unimaginable: Yosef was willing to forgive them.


Echoes of Eden




[1] Occam’s (or Ockham’s) Razor states that among competing hypotheses, the one with the fewest assumptions should be selected. In other words, the most straightforward explanation is usually correct.  

Audio and Essays Parashat Vayigash

Audio and Essays Parashat Vayigash

New Echoes of Eden Project:
Seeing a Ghost

Audio:
Honesty and Empathy – The Inner World of Yehudah

Brothers and Others

Parshat Vayigash / The Inner Meaning of the Wagons

Parshat Vayigash / The merger of Yehudah and Yosef (The Haftorah for Parshat Vayigash)

Escaping from Yosef's Trap

Parshat Vayigash / Yosef; Tour Guide of a Guilt Trip

Parshat Vayigash / Making Dreams Come True

Parshat Vayigash / The Stature Of Yosef

Parshat Vayigash / Prologue To The Exile

Parshat Vayigash / The Brothers Stand In Front Of Yosef

Parshat Vayigash / The Sale Of Yosef

Parshat Vayigash / Why Did Yosef Not Contact His Father

Parshat Vayigash / Yehuda Becomes The Leader

Parshat Vayigash / Yosef Is Zion




Essays:

Becoming Yehuda

A Moment of Truth

Plan Interrupted

Wagons

Joseph From the Kabbalistic Perspective

Catch the Bull By the Horn


Monday, December 7, 2015

Parashat Miketz 5776 Crime and Punishment


Echoes of Eden
Rabbi Ari Kahn
Parashat Miketz 5776
Crime and Punishment

The new chapter in the lives of Yaakov’s sons had started innocently enough: A famine in Canaan gave rise to a trip to Egypt to procure food. On the one hand, the brothers told themselves that they were doing what their father had asked them, and surely, in the merit of their filial devotion they would be protected and no evil would befall them. On the other hand, just below the surface of their conscious thoughts, they knew - even if their father had no inkling – that they were not the loyal and obedient sons Yaakov thought they were. They had conspired to kill their brother and in the end had “only” sold him. If they were relying on their track records as good sons to see them through, they had good reason to worry.

Surely, their destination did nothing to calm their jittery subconscious: Egypt, of all places! That was the direction that their “dearly” departed brother Yosef was headed when he was thrown out of the family – sold off like discarded property. Deep down they must have known: This trip would not be easy. Something would go wrong. And so, as soon as they attempt to purchase the much-needed supplies, they are attacked; falsely accused of espionage, they are thrown into a pit, the dungeon of the Egyptian prison.

Three days later, all but Shimon are released; he is held over as some strange sort of collateral. However, their time in prison jarred their memory, and their subconscious broke through to the surface; they finally gave voice to the submerged guilt that had been gnawing its way to the surface:

They said to one another, 'We are guilty because of what we did to our brother. We saw him suffering when he pleaded with us, but we would not listen. That's why this great misfortune has come upon us now.' (Bereishit 42:21)

The bizarre chain of events could not be coincidental: Once again, they were heading back home – but leaving one brother behind. This time, though, the “abandoned” brother was Shimon, who had been the chief instigator in the sale of Yosef.[1] And this is only the beginning; the pressure continues to ratchet its way up to the boiling point. First, one of the bothers finds that the money with which he had purchased grain from to the Egyptians had somehow returned to his bag. Soon all the brothers find their money similarly returned to them. On a practical level, this was disturbing; they knew they would eventually have to return and face the Egyptian leader who was as intimidating as he was formidable. How in the world would they explain this - especially after already having been accused of serious crimes? But on a deeper level, on the level of their guilty conscience, their situation was all the more ominous: Years earlier, when they “left” Yosef behind, they had exchanged him for coins. Now, once again, they made their way home with coins in their bags that clinked and jingled and rattled their nerves – but no brother. The “coincidence” was eerie, unsettling. With each step they take, the sale of Yosef forces itself back onto center stage, coming into ever-sharper focus as it morphs from a dull, distant memory into very sharp pangs of guilt from which they cannot hide.

After some time and effort, Yaakov is finally prevailed upon to allow the brothers to return to Egypt, and to take Binyamin with them. All of the brothers’ pleading and cajoling ineffective, until Yehudah speaks up. It is surely no coincidence that the last time Yehudah took the lead, the last time he spoke up and rallied others around him, was when he convinced his brothers to sell Yosef.

The brothers return to Egypt, present Binyamin, and redeem Shimon; all seems well. They are invited to sit as a family and enjoy a meal together, unaware that their table is more complete than they imagine. They have no reason to guess that their twelfth brother is sitting with them, eating and drinking with them. The last time we saw the brothers sitting down to share a meal, their table was far less complete: Yosef was screaming for mercy from the bottom of the pit, and then their repast was interrupted by the merchants who so fortuitously happened to ride by and take Yosef off their hands once and for all – or so they thought.

And now the family is whole, at least in a certain sense. What was Yosef’s strategy? Perhaps his accusation that they were spies was intended to preclude the brothers from asking probing questions about the strange Egyptian despot who had taken such an intense interest in Yaakov’s family.

The meal comes to an end; provisions are procured, and the brothers are lulled into a false sense of security as they take their leave and return home. They are, they believe, whole again: Binyamin is with them, Shimon has been returned, and they can go home and see their father; Yaakov’s premonitions of disaster had proven false and their own fears unfounded.

There was, however, one brother who, unbeknownst to them, watched from afar as they rode away. He knew what they could not admit: They had left something – or, more accurately, someone - behind, someone they had underestimated from the very beginning. They had mocked him: Will we ever bow to you, they jeered? In fact, they had. Would you rule over us, they laughed? Indeed, that is precisely what had come to pass. Even sitting at the same table with him, the brothers were still blind to Yosef’s greatness, blind to capabilities.

Their false sense of security was soon abruptly shattered: Yosef’s soldiers caught up to them with a new set of accusations: Their master’s special (perhaps even magical) cup had gone missing, and they were now the prime suspects. Giving no thought to the fact that items of value have made a habit of appearing in their bags unexplained, the brothers grandstand: If the cup is found with them, they declare, the guilty party should be put to death, and all the others enslaved.[2] Their response is so completely disproportionate and imprudent, we cannot help but wonder: Were they feeling guilty? Did they hope to be punished – for an earlier crime they knew they had actually committed?

Their protestations are ignored, and the terms they offer are rejected: The guilty party will be enslaved to their master Yosef, and all the others will be free to go.[3] When their bags are opened, cold hard reality stares back at them: The bag with the contraband belongs to Binyamin. In a counterintuitive, seemingly illogical counter-offer, the brothers insist they will all be slaves. What motivates this strange reaction? Are they afraid to face their father without Binyamin, or has their guilt – not for this crime, but for the older, more heinous crime – finally caught up with them? They clearly know that they deserve to be punished: They had plotted to kill their brother, had sold him into slavery or worse, had lied to their father and continued to conceal the truth from him for decades. Now, strangely, it seems to them that God has “subcontracted” with this strange and cruel Egyptian ruler in order to exact revenge. And yet, their offer is rebuffed, their punishment once again held in abeyance. Only Binyamin, the one among them who is guiltless of their terrible crime, is to be enslaved.

'What can we say to my lord?' replied Yehudah. 'How can we speak? How can we prove our innocence? God has uncovered our guilt. Let us be your slaves - we and the one in whose possession the chalice was found.' 'Heaven forbid that I do that!' said [Yosef] 'The one in whose possession the chalice was found shall be my slave. [The rest of] you can go in peace to your father.' (Bereishit 44:16,17)

The psychological pressure of losing Binyamin triggers the full weight of the brothers’ guilt.  As the parasha ends, the brothers are, essentially, begging to be punished; they know they are guilty of a terrible crime, and they seeking an apt punishment. Yosef does not let them off the hook that easily: Before the slate is cleared, they must see Yosef for who he really is.

For a more in-depth analysis see:
 Echoes of Eden

[1] Rashi Bereishit 42:24
[2] Bereishit 44:9.
[3] Bereishit 44:10.