A Moment of Reckoning for the Brothers

Parashat Vayigash tells of Yosef's dramatic revelation to his brothers, at which point, we read, "his brothers could not answer him, for they were petrified from him" (45:3). A well-known Midrashic passage (Bereishit Rabba 93) points to this incident as an effective model of what awaits us on the final Day of Judgment:

"Woe unto us on the Day of Judgment; woe unto us on the Day of Rebuke! Yosef was the youngest among the tribes, and yet they could not withstand his rebuke. When the Almighty will come and rebuke each and every person based on what he is… how much more so [that we will be unable to withstand it]!"

Many writers have addressed the question, to what does the Midrash refer when it tells of Yosef "rebuking" his brothers? All Yosef said to them was, "I am Yosef; is my father still alive?" Where in this announcement and question lies any sort of harsh rebuke towards his brothers, one we can equate with the chastisement awaiting all people at the end of days?

Several years ago, we presented the famous explanation of this Midrash offered by the Beit Ha-levi. He claims that the Midrash refers to the obvious, inherent contradiction of which Yosef makes note in his response to Yehuda's plea to release Binyamin. The parasha opens with Yehuda begging the Egyptian vizier (Yosef) to allow Binyamin to return home to Canaan, despite his alleged crime, while Yehuda himself remaining as a slave in Binyamin's place. He argued that Yaakov would assuredly die if his beloved son did not return home. Yosef responds to Yehuda: "I am Yosef; is my father still alive?!" Meaning, if you're so concerned for the consequences of Father losing a beloved son, then why did you sell me into slavery? The Midrash warns that similarly, when each of us faces judgment, we will be shown how we lived an inherently contradictory life; all the excuses we make for our shortcomings will be proven false by our own conduct. If, for example, we claim to have no time for further religious growth, then how have we found so much time for the many useless activities in which we engage? And so on.

A somewhat different approach to this Midrash is cited in the name of Rav Avraham Pam zt"l, who explained, quite simply, that the harsh rebuke spoken of in the Midrash is longtime held beliefs that will suddenly be disproved. The brothers were so confident that Yosef was but a childish, arrogant boy who longed for power and honor for his own ego. Given their father's apparent interest in appointing him leader, they saw Yosef as a threat to the family and, by extension, to the nation soon to emerge from the twelve brothers. Upon hearing the two words, "Ani Yosef," the brothers were suddenly shown that their entire approach had been mistaken. In spite of their hostility, Yosef had indeed lived to become a world leader and have his brothers under his charge and command. This, says the Midrash, is the harsh rebuke that awaits us in the world to come. We will see how we lived our lives under grave illusions and errors, how so many of the assumptions on the basis of which we conducted our lives are simply false. The Midrash thus impresses upon us the critical importance of constantly reexamining ourselves, our beliefs and our conduct, so as to avoid the humiliation of this harsh rebuke at the end of days.

We might suggest yet an additional interpretation of this Midrash. The verse upon which the Midrash comments concludes that the brothers "could not answer him, for they were petrified of him." Why were they "petrified"? Rashi explains this as reference to "busha" – shame and humiliation. By contrast, Chizkuni and Rabbenu Yosef Bekhor Shor explain that they feared Yosef's vengeance, that he would repay them for their mistreatment of him. Perhaps to this fear the Midrash refers when it speaks of "tokhecha" – rebuke. In an instant, the brothers found themselves at the mercy of the very person whom they abused and tried to kill. Similarly, when the time comes, we will finally understand - far more powerfully than we do during our lifetimes – that the One against whom we sin has absolute control over us and our eternal fate. This, perhaps, is the most frightening "rebuke" which none of us will have the strength to withstand: the realization that we are entirely at the mercy of the Almighty, mercy which, based on our conduct, we hardly deserve.

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The Bitter Irony of Yosef's Economic Policy

Towards the end of Parashat Vayigash, the Torah describes in great detail the conditions in Egypt during the seven years of famine and the economic policies enacted by Yosef in leading the country through the crisis. Initially, the people purchased from the government grain that it had stored during the previous seven years of surplus. Once they had spent all their money on food, the people then sold their animals and lands to the government. Ultimately, the state took ownership of all Egyptian land, and Yosef enacted that the farmers would work as sharecroppers for the state, giving Pharaoh one-fourth of the yield and keeping for themselves the other three-quarters.

When reading these and other details of Yosef's management of Egypt, one cannot but wonder why this narrative earned an entire section in Sefer Bereishit. It appears in between Yaakov's arrival in Egypt with his family and the story in Parashat Vayechi of Yaakov's final days and death; thus, this account of Yosef's handling of the famine disrupts the narrative concerning Yaakov, Yosef and his brothers. Why did the Torah see fit to devote a sizeable portion of Biblical text to this topic?

One might explain the purpose behind this section in light of the final verse of Parashat Vayigash, which concludes the discussion of the famine in Egypt: "Israel settled in the country of Egypt, in the region of Goshen; they acquired holdings in it, and were fertile and increased greatly." This verse appears to draw a drastic contrast between the situation of the native Egyptians and that of Benei Yisrael. Whereas the natives all lost their property and became serfs of the monarchy (albeit under far more favorable terms than those in most feudal or communist systems), Benei Yisrael acquired holdings, became wealthy, prospered, had large families, and enjoyed success. In this sense, this section perhaps serves to set the stage for Sefer Shemot, where Pharaoh fears the growth and success of Benei Yisrael and enslaves them.

Professor Nechama Leibowitz, however, suggests that we look to a different verse as the focal point of this narrative: "Only the land of the priests he [Yosef] did not take over, for the priests had an allotment from Pharaoh, and they lived off the allotment which Pharaoh had made to them; therefore they did not sell their land" (47:22). The Egyptian priests received allowances from the monarchy to support themselves and their families, and therefore were not compelled to sell their possessions in exchange for food, as did the rest of the population. Professor Leibowitz notes the bitter irony in this arrangement: specifically the class of people who did not have to work for or worry about their livelihood, who lived directly off Pharaoh's treasury, were allowed to retain their property and real estate holdings. She claims that we read this verse as the Torah's sarcastic depiction of the concept of priesthood among the ancient pagans. This system stands in direct opposition to the arrangement legislated by the Torah, whereby the kohanim and Levi'im are denied any land holdings. The Almighty declares to Moshe (Bamidbar 18:24), "For it is the tithes set aside by the Israelites as a gift to the Lord that I give to the Levites as their share; therefore I have said concerning them: They shall have no territorial share among the Israelites."

This verse in Sefer Bamidbar, Professor Leibowitz suggests, must be read as a contrasting parallel to the verse in Parashat Vayigash concerning the Egyptian priests. In Egypt, the priests did not have to work for their livelihood, and "therefore" ("al kein") they held onto their land holdings forever. With regard to Benei Yisrael, however, the exact opposite is true: the kohanim are supported by gifts from the people, without working the land, and "therefore" ("al kein") they are not given any agricultural lands. For the pagans, the clergy meant the abuse of power through special rights and privileges paid for by the laymen; among Benei Yisrael, the concept of priesthood involves strict obligations and responsibilities. The Torah withheld land from the tribe of Levi and had them supported by the people to ensure their investment of time and energy in their spiritual duties towards the nation, rather than receive support from the people while at the same time earning profits from their agricultural pursuits.

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The Weeping of Yosef and Yirmiyahu

Before Yosef reveals himself to his brothers, as told in Parashat Vayigash, he weeps, as he had done several times earlier throughout this story. Here, he cries so loud "that the Egyptians could hear" (45:2). Perhaps it is the Torah's emphasis on the volume of this sob that led Chazal to afford it symbolic significance. The Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 93:13) comments, "Just as Yosef appeased his brothers only with weeping, so will the Almighty redeem Israel only with weeping, as it says, 'They shall come with weeping, and with compassion will I guide them' (Yirmiyahu 31:9)."

How exactly does this Midrash understand the importance of "weeping" in this narrative, and how does this relate to that prophecy in Sefer Yirmiyahu?

One approach to explaining this Midrash might be to understand the context of Yirmiyahu's prophecy referred to in this passage. As we discussed in our S.A.L.T. series to Rosh Hashanah this past year, this prophecy (which we read as our haftara for the second day of Rosh Hashanah) appears to foresee specifically the return of the Northern Kingdom of Israel, or the Ten Lost Tribes. (Rav Mendel Hirsch, in his work on the haftarot, emphasizes this point.) Throughout this prophecy, Yirmiyahu refers to Am Yisrael as "Efrayim," which clearly refers to the Northern Kingdom. Efrayim was the largest and most influential tribe in the Kingdom, and in fact, the Kingdom was founded by Yeravam Ben Nevat, who was from the tribe of Efrayim. Yirmiyahu predicts that "again you shall plant vineyards on the hills of Shomron" (31:5). The city Shomron was capital-city of the Northern Kingdom, and the region of Efrayim in general is often referred to as Shomron (as it is today; "Samaria," or "Shomron," is the northern section of the West Bank). Similarly, Yirmiyahu declares, "For the day is coming when watchmen shall proclaim on the heights of Efrayim: Come let us go up to Zion, to the Lord our God!" (31:6). The Ten Tribes of the North had dissociated themselves entirely from Jerusalem and the Temple, and, according to Chazal, blockades were erected to prevent pilgrimages from the northern tribes to Jerusalem. But Yirmiyahu foresees the day when pilgrims from the North will once again bring their fruits to Jerusalem as required by the Torah, when the Ten Tribes will become part of a unified Am Yisrael, with one kingdom, one country, and one Temple uniting the entire nation.

With this in mind, we can perhaps gain a clearer understanding of the association Chazal draw between Yosef's emotion as he reveals himself to his brothers, and that foreseen by Yirmiyahu. Both Parashat Vayigash and this prophecy of Yirmiyahu tell of the reunion between Yosef (or the tribe of Efrayim, the larger of the two tribes that emerged from Yosef) and his brothers after years – or, in Yirmyahu's case, centuries – of estrangement. With tears and emotion, the Northern Kingdom of Israel will return to the Jewish people; it will, like Yosef, reveal its true identity that had been concealed for so many years under the disguise of foreign nationality and loyalty. In the spirit of "ma'aseh avot siman la-banim" (that which happened to the patriarchs foreshadow what will happen to their descendants), Chazal saw within Yosef's revelation to his brothers the symbol of the ultimate reunion between the Northern Kingdom and the Kingdom of Yehuda, with the arrival of the final redemption.

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Harmony Between Yehuda and Yosef - Yehuda is Sent to Goshen

The Torah tells in Parashat Vayigash (46:28) that Yaakov, as he made his way towards Egypt, sent his son Yehuda ahead "to point the way before him." According to one view in the Midrash, cited by Rashi, this refers to the establishment of a Torah educational facility. Understandably, Yaakov made Torah education his priority in preparing for his family's sojourn in the foreign environs and culture of Egypt.

Another Midrashic passage appears to note the novelty, or at least irony, in the fact that Yaakov chose specifically Yehuda for this task. The Midrash in Bereishit Rabba (95:1) comments that Yehuda is likened to a lion (in Bereishit 49:9), whereas Yosef is compared to cattle (Devarim 33:17). And yet, the lion and the ox, which under normal circumstances can never live together peacefully, managed to reconcile their differences and work together in harmony. "Therefore," the Midrash concludes, "'He sent Yehuda ahead of him'." Meaning, as Rav Henoch Lebovitz explains (as recorded in "Chiddushei Ha-lev"), Yaakov would not have sent Yehuda ahead to establish a yeshiva in Egypt together with Yosef, had the two been unable to iron out their differences and work together in peace and harmony.

But although this explains why Yehuda was not disqualified for this task, it does not tell us why specifically he was chosen. Rabbenu Bechayei (as well as the commentary of the Maharzu to the Midrash Rabba) claims that Yehuda was superior to his brothers in several different areas, including Torah knowledge. It was only natural, then, that Yaakov assigned him the responsibility of founding the yeshiva in Egypt.

Returning, then, to the previous Midrash, we find that although Yehuda was best suited for the job, Yaakov would have selected someone else if not for the harmony between Yosef and Yehuda. Had these two great leaders been unable to work harmoniously together, then Yaakov would not have chosen Yehuda, the most qualified of his sons to establish the yeshiva, for this job. The obvious message, as developed by Rav Lebovitz, is, as recorded by his students, "that one may not violate rules of ethics and matters of derekh eretz [etiquette and manners] even when there is a need to establish a house of study and residence for Kelal Yisrael… One should not build a place of Torah through means that oppose derekh eretz and the rules of ethics, and it is clear that if we do not abide by this [guideline], this institution will not be successful and it will not be sustained. A place of Torah built in a forbidden manner cannot possibly succeed… "

Yosef and Yehuda can join forces to build a successful religious institution only by working harmoniously together, with mutual respect and admiration, and without friction and competition.

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Yov and Yashuv

Parashat Vayigash tells of Yaakov and his family's migration to Egypt, where they would be sustained by Yosef, who is now second-in-command to Pharaoh. The Torah here lists by name the members of Yaakov's family who joined him as he relocated from Canaan to Egypt. In this list, we find the names of the four sons of Yissakhar: Tola, Puva, Yov and Shimron (46:13). Surprisingly, however, in the genealogical record of the tribe of Yissakhar in Divrei Hayamim I (7:1), Yov is listed by a slightly different name – "Yashuv." Rashi, in his commentary to Divrei Hayamim, explains that the name "Yashuv" evolves from the term "yeshiva," or "sitting." Yov was given this name, Rashi explains, because his descendants "sat themselves down to learn Torah." Rashi here refers us to a chapter later in Divrei Hayamim, where we find a lengthy list of people who assisted King David at various critical stages in his life, including those who joined him in Chevron after King Shaul's death to help transfer the kingship to him. Among these men was a group from the tribe of Yissakhar, described as "men who knew how to interpret the signs of the times, to determine how Israel should act" (Divrei Hayamim I 12:33). Rashi (in chapter 7) understood this description as referring to their Torah scholarship, and, apparently, this group descended specifically from Yissakhar's son Yov. Accordingly, Yov is sometimes referred to as "Yashuv," as an allusion to the diligent Torah study of his descendants. (Curiously, however, Rashi in chapter 12 interprets that verse to mean that these men from Yissakhar had a keen understanding of current events and were thus capable advisors to David on political, diplomatic and military matters.)

Rav Yitzchak Yissakhar Leventhal, in his "Birkat Yitzchak" (1946), adds that this name change may also relate to the particular field of study for which this group of Yissakharites was known. As the Radak brings in his commentary to Divrei Hayamim, Chazal explained this phrase – "who knew how to interpret the signs of the times" – as referring to proficiency specifically in the field of astronomy. These scholars of Yissakhar studied the lunar and solar cycles, a field that was of critical importance for the functioning of the Jewish calendar, upon which all Jewish holiday celebration depends. (It is recorded, for example, that among the decrees issued by the Selucids against the Jews during the Hellenist period was the ban on "kiddush ha-chodesh" – the declaration of new months based upon the sighting of the new moon.) The Jewish calendar is essentially a lunar calendar, arranged based on twelve revolutions by the moon around the earth. At the same time, however, the festivals must occur at certain points in the solar, agricultural year – Pesach in early spring, Sukkot before the rainy season. Thus, the calendar must be adjusted in order to maintain a general correspondence between the lunar and solar cycles. These scholars of Yissakhar bore the burden of overseeing this complex system, which obviously required lots of diligent study and careful, precise analysis of the astronomical cycles.

With this in mind, Rav Leventhal suggests, we can perhaps understand more clearly why Yov's descendants' achievements are alluded to by the name "Yashuv." Why would their "sitting" warrant such prominent recognition? The answer, perhaps, is that they applied themselves diligently in the study of very complex material, a pursuit requiring intense concentration and tireless effort. Indeed, the Gemara (Megila 21a) discusses whether one should stand or sit while studying Torah, a discussion that concludes with the position of Rava, that straightforward material should be studied while standing, while complex issues should be learned sitting. The name "Yashuv," then, underscores the diligence and concentration of Yov's descendants, who devoted themselves to the very complex study of the Jewish calendar.

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Yosef's Economic Policy and his Family in Egypt

  Parashat Vayigash tells of Yaakov's descent with his family to Egypt, where they were fed and sustained by Yosef during the harsh famine that struck the region.  After describing Yaakov and his family's arrival in Egypt and their meetings with Pharaoh, the Torah suddenly shifts onto an entirely different topic – Yosef's handling of the Egyptian economy during the famine.  The Egyptian citizens spent all their money, and then their animals, in exchange for grain, until all that remained was their land and bodies.  Yosef therefore "purchased" the Egyptians' lands and selves, arranging that they would work the land and give a percentage to the government.  He made an exception for the Egyptian clergy, exempting them from this produce tax.  In addition, Yosef transferred the Egyptian population from one region to another.  Chizkuni (47:21) explains that he did this so that nobody could lay claim to his land, which had become the property of the monarchy.  Rashi, based on the Midrash, explains that this was done for the sake of Yosef's brothers; by transferring the population, Yosef ensured that the entire citizenry would feel a sense of disorientation, and not merely his brothers.  After this section, the Torah, in the beginning of Parashat Vayechi, returns to the story of Yaakov and his sons' experiences in Egypt.

 

            The question arises as to the intent and purpose of the Torah's description of Yosef's economic policies in Egypt, a section that glaringly disrupts the narrative of Yosef and his brothers.  What more, this section does not begin with a new parasha – or paragraph break – in the Torah scroll, perhaps suggesting that it is somehow part of the story of Yaakov and his sons, and does not comprise an independent textual unit.  In what way does the narrative of Yosef's management of Egypt form part of the story of Yaakov's family's resettlement in Egypt?

 

            Rav Yaakov Kaminetzky discusses this issue in his Emet Le-Ya'akov, and posits a theory that the measures Yosef undertook in governing Egypt were all intended to prevent Benei Yisrael's sense of permanence in their new place of residence.  We already mentioned Rashi's view that the transfer of populations from one region to the next was geared towards generating a feeling of disorientation among the entire citizenry, so that his brothers would not be the only foreigners.  Nobody in Egypt would feel a sense of being rooted, and thus naturally his brothers would likewise not become too entrenched in Egyptian society.  And the tax exemption for the clergy was also intended to help Benei Yisrael, as it ensured that a learned class among the nation would be able to devote itself to Torah study unencumbered by other responsibilities.  Indeed, as Rashi writes in his commentary to Sefer Shemot (5:4), the family – and then tribe – of Levi was exempt from the slave labor imposed upon the rest of Benei Yisrael.  Rav Yaakov explained this exemption as based on the clerical tax exemption instituted many years earlier by Yosef.  In this way, Yosef ensured that at least one group among Benei Yisrael would retain the nation's connection to its roots and spiritual heritage, which would remind the people that they are foreigners in their current country of residence.

 

            Rav Yaakov adds that Yosef felt compelled to enact these measures after his brothers' meeting with Yosef.  When his brothers stood before the Egyptian king, they told him, "La-gur ba-aretz banu" – "We have come to live in the land" (47:4).  As we know from the Haggadah, this verse is understood as an indication that the brothers had intended to stay in Egypt for only a brief period, until conditions improved in Canaan.  After this meeting, however, Pharaoh says to Yosef, "…hosheiv et avikha ve-et achekha" – "settle your father and your brothers" (47:5).  Pharaoh ordered that Yosef's family establish permanent residence in Egypt, rather than staying as temporary visitors.  The reason, presumably, was that Pharaoh wanted his second-in-command to renounce all and any ties to his previous country.  This is best accomplished by having his family establish permanent residence in Egypt.

 

            Yosef naturally feared the consequences of his family's sense of permanence in Egypt, and therefore enacted the aforementioned measures to ensure that they would always remember their origins and continue to aspire to their return to their ancestral homeland.

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Yaakov Gathering Wood for the Future

   We read in Parashat Vayigash of Yaakov's descent from Canaan to Egypt, where he settled to escape the famine that devastated the region.  The Torah tells (beginning of chapter 46) that Yaakov stopped along his journey in the city of Be'er Sheva.  According to the Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 94:4), in Be'er Sheva Yaakov cut wood from the sycamore trees that his grandfather, Avraham, had planted in that city many years earlier.  Yaakov brought this wood with him to Egypt in anticipation of his descendants' construction of the Mishkan from sycamore wood after their departure from Egypt.

 

            Rav Yaakov Kaminetzky, in Emet Le-Yaakov, explains that Yaakov found it necessary to take this wood with him to serve as a constant reminder to his descendants of their heritage and roots.  God appears to Yaakov in Be'er Sheva and declares, "Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt, for I will make you a great nation there" (46:3), implying that Yaakov had been concerned.  Seforno explains that Yaakov feared his descendants' assimilation among the Egyptians and gradual disinterest in their origins.  The sycamore wood from Be'er Sheva served as a tangible vestige of Benei Yisrael's roots, and of their future destiny to return to Eretz Yisrael.  Yaakov therefore made it a priority to bring this wood with him as he brought his family to Egypt.

 

            Rav Yaakov returns to this Midrash in his comments to Parashat Vayakhel, in the context of the verse, "And anyone who had with him blue dye and purple…brought [them for the construction of the Mishkan]" (Shemot 35:23).  As Rashi comments in Parashat Teruma (25:4), the terms tekhelet (blue dye) and argaman (purple) refer not merely to the colored dyes, but to wool dyed in these colors.  Accordingly, it emerges from this verse that anyone who happened to have with him wool dyed in the appropriate colors donated it for the Mishkan.  Accordingly, Rav Yaakov infers from this verse that the wool used for the various accessories in the Mishkan, including the garments of the kohanim, did not have to be dyed li-shma – with the specific intent for the mitzva.  The Torah tells that anyone who "had with him" dyed wool could donate it to the Mishkan, even though it was obviously not dyed with this mitzva in mind.  The bigdei kehuna(priestly garments) would then differ from tzitzit, in that the tekhelet strings of the tzitzit – at least according to the Rambam (Hilkhot Tzitzit 2:33) – had to be dyed specifically for the purpose of the mitzva.

 

            But Rav Yaakov then dismisses this proof, in light of the aforementioned Midrash.  That Yaakov brought wood for the Mishkan with him to Egypt, and this wood was preserved for 210 years and used in the construction of the Mishkan (see Rashi, Shemot 25:5), might indicate that at least some members of Benei Yisrael were cognizant of and concerned about the needs of the Mishkan throughout this period.  One might therefore contend that some among Benei Yisrael prepared other materials, as well, in anticipation of the Mishkan's construction.  If so, then the dyed wools donated for the Mishkan may have indeed been dyed with the Mishkan andbigdei kehuna in mind, thus meeting the criterion of li-shma.  Accordingly, Rav Yaakov concludes, this verse provides no proof that the dyeing process did not require li-shma.

 

 
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Yosef to the Brothers: Drop the Issue

        In Parashat Vayigash, Yosef reveals his identity to his brothers and instructs them to return to Canaan and bring Yaakov to Egypt, where Yosef – who had risen to the position of viceroy – will support him and his family during the remainder of the famine years.  Just before they leave, Yosef gives one final instruction: "Al tirgezu ba-darekh."  This difficult phrase has earned many different interpretations.  Rashi begins by citing two Midrashic interpretations from the Gemara (Masekhet Ta'anit 10b).  One view explains this instruction to mean that the brothers should not engage in complex halakhic discussion and debate during travel.  Another opinion recorded in the Gemara claims that Yosef advises them to travel patiently and ensure to stop over for lodging before nightfall.

 

            Rashi himself suggests that Yosef warned his brothers to refrain from discussing the matter of his sale twenty-two years earlier.  The brothers were understandably humiliated upon discovering that they were speaking face-to-face with the brother whom they had tried to eliminate.  These feelings of shame could have easily erupted in the form of bitter mutual allegations and finger-pointing as the brothers made their way back to Chevron.  Yosef therefore advised them to drop the issue altogether.  This instruction would then be seen in light of his earlier emphasis after revealing his identity (45:5) that the brothers had no reason to dwell on their past injustices, since in the end it served to save them and their families from hunger.  Here, too, Yosef urges the brothers to leave past events in the past, rather than harboring resentment towards one another over this matter.  Ibn Ezra suggests this interpretation, as well.

 

            This verse would then perhaps teach a simple lesson in the area of interpersonal relations: to be able to let go of hurtful events of the past.  More often than not, friends, siblings, spouses, and parents-children who have fought in the past and have since rehabilitated their relationship are best advised to simply forget and let go and set their sights on the future, rather than dwelling on the painful experiences of the past.

 

            Several other commentators, including the Ramban, Peirush Ha-Tur, Rashbam and Chzikuni, explain this verse to mean, "Do not be afraid of the trip."  The previous verses describe the gifts with which Yosef showered his brothers to bring to Yaakov in Canaan.  They had good reason to fear traveling during a period of severe drought with ten donkeys loaded with food and grain.  Yosef therefore reassured them that they would not come under the attack of roadside bandits.

 

            A particularly fascinating interpretation is suggested by the Ba'al Ha-Turim.  He writes that despite the brothers' newly-discovered royal connection, they should not assume the right to trample on other people's property and damage their crops.  Their recent discovery that their brother is the leader of the wealthiest country in the region was a situation of "rags to riches"; after experiencing two years of hunger and hardship, they were suddenly guaranteed complete financial security and royal treatment.  Yosef warned them that their sudden transformation must not allow them to neglect those who still suffer the ravages of famine.  They must continue to respect the property of the poor, struggling peasants along their travel route, even as they make their way to a future of financial security.

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פן תשמחנה בנות פלשתים

 

זעקת "לָמָה ה' תַּעֲמֹד בְּרָחוֹק..." כבר נשמעה במזמור י (בלי ייחוס לדוד), שחותם בתביעה נמרצת - "שְׁבֹר זְרוֹעַ רָשָע..." (י, טו);

מזמור יג (המיוחס לדוד) פותח בנימה אישית - "עַד אָנָה ה'... תַּסְתִּיר אֶת פָּנֶיךָ מִמֶּנִּי" - 'עד מתי'? - אך חותם בביטחון מוחלט - "וַאֲנִי בְּחַסְדְּךָ בָטַחְתִּי...".

אנו קוראים את סיפורי דוד מתוך ידיעת התוצאה, אולם כאשר הוא נרדף על ידי שאול וצבאו עד שנאלץ לברוח מארץ יהודה (3 פעמים! למואב, ולגת), הוא היה שרוי במתח נורא מיום ליום, כי בכל יום עלול המוות להשיגו - "פֶּן אִישַׁן הַמָּוֶת". אבל היה לו ביטחון פנימי, שה' יציל אותו ואת אנשיו ויגמול עליו לטובה.

לעומת זה, כשברח דוד מפני אבשלום, הביטחון הפנימי שלו כבר היה בספק, מפני חטאו - "אִם אֶמְצָא חֵן בְּעֵינֵי ה', וֶהֱשִבַנִי וְהִרְאַנִי אֹתוֹ וְאֶת נָוֵהוּ..."(שמואל-ב טו, כה-כו), ולימי הרדיפות והייאוש שבגלות מתאים יותר מזמור י. 

מזמור יג (כמו מזמור ז) חוזר לתאר את רגשות דוד בנדודי בריחתו מפני שאול, תוך כדי קרבות עם גלית הפלשתי ואחיו (שמואל-ב כא, טו-יט), ובייחוד את החרדה "פֶּן תִּשְׂמַחְנָה בְּנוֹת פְּלִשְׁתִּים..." (שמואל-ב א, כ) בניצחונם עליו - "פֶּן יֹאמַר אֹיְבִי יְכָלְתִּיו" (יג, ה).

לַמְנַצֵּחַ מִזְמוֹר לְדָוִד; 

עַד אָנָה ה' תִּשְׁכָּחֵנִי (זמן כמו) נֶצַח,   
עַד אָנָה תַּסְתִּיר אֶת פָּנֶיךָ מִמֶּנִּי;   
עַד אָנָה אָשִׁית עֵצוֹת בְּנַפְשִׁי (לאן להימלט והיכן להיחבא)   
יָגוֹן בִּלְבָבִי יומם, 
עד אָנָה יָרוּם אֹיְבִי עָלָי;   
הַבִּיטָה עֲנֵנִי ה' אֱ-לֹהָי,   
הָאִירָה עֵינַי פֶּן אִישַׁן הַמָּוֶת;   

פֶּן יֹאמַר אֹיְבִי יְכָלְתִּיו,
צָרַי יָגִילוּ כִּי אֶמּוֹט;

וַאֲנִי בְּחַסְדְּךָ בָטַחְתִּי,  
יָגֵל לִבִּי בִּישׁוּעָתֶךָ,
אָשִׁירָה לה' כִּי גָמַל (=יגמול) עָלָי.


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