Yosef and Esav

Rashi, in his comments to the first verse of Parashat Vayeshev (in most editions of Rashi's commentary), cites a Midrash that describes Yaakov's fear of Esav in the wake of the latter's establishment of a large and powerful kingdom in Edom. The Midrash draws an analogy between Yaakov's fear and the concerns of a smith when an animal carrying an enormous load of flax enters his cramped shop. How, he wonders, will the entire stack of flax fit in such a small area? Finally, somebody tells him, "All it takes is a single spark from your anvil to burn the entire load!" Similarly, says the Midrash, Yaakov wondered how he could survive living near the powerful and hostile kingdom of Edom, the leaders of which were just enumerated in the previous chapter. The Torah therefore proclaims at the beginning of Parashat Vayeshev, "These are the products of Yaakov – Yosef." Yosef is the single spark that can ignite and consume the entire kingdom of Esav, as the prophet Ovadya famously foresees, "The House of Yaakov shall be fire, and the House of Yosef flame, and the House of Esav shall be straw; they shall burn it and devour it" (Ovadya 1:18).

How are we to understand this comparison between Esav/Edom and flax, or straw, and what is it about Yosef that enables him in particular to destroy and devour Esav?

Rav Yaakov Ariel (Chief Rabbi of Ramat-Gan), in his work, "Mei-Ohalei Torah," explains that straw and flax draw a lot of attention. They occupy a lot of space and often scatter about in the air. The actual kernels of grain, by contrast, are much smaller and less pronounced. And yet, it is clearly the grain that constitutes the primary component of the stalk. Likewise, Esav drew a lot of attention to himself. While his brother Yaakov sat quietly and unassumingly in his "tents" (25:27), Esav spent his days in the fields, demonstrating his strength and talents, earning for himself a widespread reputation. Esav was the straw, whereas Yaakov was the concealed and humble kernel of grain.

As the Midrash comments, Yaakov defeats Esav specifically through Yosef. Rav Ariel suggests that Yosef shared some of Esav's characteristics. He, too, was an attractive youngster who made a name for himself wherever he went. This perhaps gives us some idea as to why the brothers found it necessary to eliminate him. They perceived him as the Esav of the family, as a person of vanity and external, superficial charm, devoid of inner substance and ideals.

In truth, however, Yosef, unlike Esav, managed to incorporate his "straw"-like qualities within a far more meaningful, substantive life of ideals. His resistance to the advances of Potifar's wife demonstrated that his attractive exterior reflected, rather than supplanted, a profoundly spiritual interior. He used the enchanting effect he had on those around him to lead a nation to wealth and prosperity and save them from starvation, rather than for his personal gratification and honor. Though outwardly he may have resembled Esav, internally he was forever loyal and committed to the teachings and values of Yaakov: "These are the products of Yaakov – Yosef."

Yosef is therefore the spark that leads his people to triumph over the straw, Esav. It is he who represents Am Yisrael's ability to produce both the straw and the kernel – an appealing exterior and a spiritually meaningful interior. If we channel the qualities of Esav towards a higher purpose, if we utilize beauty and external grandeur for sacred purposes, then we can, indeed, emerge victorious over the enemy nation of Edom.

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Who Sold Yosef - and What was Reuven's Plan

     Yesterday, we discussed the Midrash's comment regarding Reuven's absence from the sale of Yosef.  Recall that Reuven dissuaded his brothers against actively killing Yosef, advising instead that they cast him into a pit and let him die naturally.  Reuven's intent, as the Torah explicitly testifies (37:22), was to later come and rescue Yosef from the pit.  Ultimately, of course, the brothers decide to instead sell Yosef into slavery.  The Torah tells (37:29) that Reuven returned to the pit – presumably to rescue Yosef – and, much to his horror, discovered that he was missing.  This indicates, of course, that Reuven was not present when the brothers lifted Yosef from the pit and sold him to passing merchants.  Yesterday, we cited the explanation offered by the Midrash, cited by Rashi, that Reuven left his brothers to engage in ongoing prayer and repentance to atone for his sin involving Bilha.

 

            The Rashbam (37:28), however, who very often offers interpretations that differ drastically from those that appear in the Midrashim, explains this entire incident much differently.  He addresses a discrepancy that troubled many commentators regarding the identity of the merchants to whom the brothers sold Yosef.  The Torah tells that as the brothers sat down to eat after casting Yosef into the pit, they saw Yishmaelites coming from the east and heading towards Egypt, and the brothers decided to sell Yosef to them (37:25-27).  But then the Torah writes, "Midyanite merchants passed by, and they pulled and brought Yosef out of the pit, and they sold Yosef to the Yishmaelites…" (35:28).  (I still recall my ninth grade Chumash teacher describing this verse as "one of the most confusing pesukim in the entire Torah.")  This verse mentions two groups – Midyanites and Yishmaelites.  Rashi explains that the brothers took Yosef from the pit and sold him to the Yishmaelites, in accordance with their plan, and the Yishmaelites then sold him to the Midyanites.  Others, including Seforno, claim that the term "Midyanites" is interchangeable with "Yishmaelites."  The Rashbam, however, proposes a much simpler solution to this problem, namely, that the brothers never sold Yosef.  The brothers, he claimed, sat at a distance from the pit, and before they returned to the pit to pull Yosef out and sell him to the Yishmaelites, a different group of merchants, from Midyan, passed by and noticed or heard Yosef in the pit.  It was they who – without the knowledge of Yosef's brothers – pulled Yosef from the pit and sold him to the Yishmaelites, who brought him to Egypt.

 

            In light of the Rashbam's approach to this event, we can more easily understand the verse that speaks of Reuven returning to the pit and discovering it empty.  According to the conventional understanding, that the brothers took Yosef from the pit and sold him, we must struggle to explain Reuven's absence.  According to the Rashbam, however, this verse is perfectly clear.  Upon hearing the brothers' plan to pull Yosef from the pit and sell him into slavery, Reuven realized that his plan to rescue Yosef was in jeopardy.  He immediately "excused himself" and hurried back to the pit to pull Yosef out before the brothers did.  Much to his surprise and horror, however, by the time he arrived the Midyanim had already pulled Yosef out and sold him to the Yishmaelites.  Reuven thus returned to his brothers and painfully informed them, "The boy is gone" (37:30).

 

            One interesting result of the Rashbam's approach is that the brothers never knew that Yosef had been sold as a slave and brought to Egypt.  They likely assumed that he had died in the pit, as a result of a snakebite or other natural occurrence.  This perhaps sheds light on their utter astonishment when Yosef reveals his identity to them as the Egyptian viceroy many years later.  Not only had they not expected him to rise to power in Egypt; they had presumed him to be dead for the last twenty years.

 

            (Rabbi Menachem Leibtag elaborates on the Rashbam's in much greater detail, at http://tanach.org/breishit/vayesh/vayesh1.htm.)

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Reuven's Absence and Repentance

          The opening section of Parashat Vayeshev tells the unfortunate story of Yosef's sale as a slave to Egypt.  We read that the brothers initially planned to kill Yosef as he approached them, but Reuven, in an attempt to save his younger brother, convinced them to instead kill him indirectly, by casting him into an empty pit.  His plan was to later come and rescue Yosef.  However, Yehuda then advised removing Yosef from the pit and selling him as a slave to passing merchants.  The Torah tells that Reuven returned to the pit – to rescue him – and found that Yosef was missing.  Evidently, Reuven was not with his brothers when they removed Yosef from the pit and sold him to the merchants.  Rashi, citing from the Midrash (Bereishit Rabba, 84:19), explains that Reuven was "occupied with his sackcloth and fasting for having switched his father's bed."  According to the Midrash, Reuven left after Yosef was thrown into the pit to focus his attention on his repentance for the sin recorded earlier, in Parashat Vayishlach (35:22), which Chazal understood as disrespectfully moving his father's bed into Leah's tent.  (Reuven wished to defend his mother's honor, which was infringed upon when Yaakov moved his bed into the tent of Rachel's maidservant, Bilha.)

 

            The obvious question arises, what connection is there between this incident, of the sale of Yosef, and Reuven's repentance for his sin?

 

            One simple answer, perhaps, has to do with the meal the brothers conducted after throwing Yosef into the pit (37:25), and during which they noticed the merchants and decided to sell Yosef.  When the brothers sat down for a meal, Reuven, who was still observing regular fasts to atone for his disrespect towards his father, left to continue his prayers.  He was therefore not present when the brothers sold Yosef to the merchants.

 

            The Beit Ha-levi suggests a different explanation.  Even though Reuven succeeded in convincing his brothers to cast Yosef into a pit rather than actually kill him, and thereby hoped to rescue Yosef, there was nevertheless no guarantee that his plan would work.  As Chazal famously comment, the pit was occupied by poisonous snakes and scorpions.  The prospect of Yosef's death meant not only the tragic loss of a brother, but a loss of one of the twelve tribes of Israel.  The Midrashim elaborate on the spiritual and symbolic significance of the number twelve as the number of the tribes; Reuven was thus saddened by the possibility that this number would now be reduced to eleven.  This led him to feel that had he not interfered with his father's marital life, Yaakov perhaps would have begotten more children, in which case the number twelve could still be retained.  Therefore, after the brothers cast Yosef into the pit in Dotan, Reuven returned to his process of repentance for his sin against his father.

 

            A much simpler explanation was suggested by Rav Mordechai Gifter, in Pirkei Torah.  Chazal emphasize Reuven's ongoing teshuva in this context because it directly impacted upon his response to the brothers' plan to kill Yosef.  Reuven's preoccupation with correcting his wrong engendered within him a heightened sensitivity to his father's feelings.  Specifically as a result of his mistake and pangs of remorse that surfaced in its wake, he, much more so than his brothers, was sensitized to Yaakov's emotions and outright refused to do anything that would cause him anguish and grief.  It was therefore he who stood up for Yosef and attempted to rescue him.  Having already insulted his father once before, Reuven understood the need to save his father from further grief, and herein lay the connection between his ongoing process of teshuva and the story of Yosef's sale.

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Yosef's Prophetic Dreams

 

            Towards the beginning of Parashat Vayeshev the Torah tells of Yosef's two dreams foretelling his leadership role over his brothers.  In the first dream he beheld his brothers' sheaves of harvested grain bowing before his sheaves, while in the second he saw the sun, the moon and eleven stars prostrating before him.

 

            While we generally tend to speak of the two dreams together and combine them into a single event, a close reading of the text reveals important differences between the dreams and their effects on the brothers.  Most obviously, the first dream depicts Yosef's authority over only his brothers, whereas the second dream refers as well to the "sun" and the "moon," an apparent allusion to Yosef's parents.  (As Rashi notes, Yosef's mother, Rachel, had already passed away, and the "moon" referred to Bilha, who assumed the role of Yosef's guardian upon his mother's death.)  For this reason, it would seem, Yosef reports the first dream only to his brothers (37:5-6), but tells the second dream to his father, as well (37:10).  Since the second dream included his parents, Yosef found it necessary to bring the information to his father, and not only to his brothers.

 

Additionally, the brothers appear to react differently to the two dreams.  After the first dream, we are told, the brothers "despised him further on account of his dreams and his words" (37:8).  Upon hearing the second dream, by contrast, the brothers simply "felt jealous of him" (37:11).

 

Rav Yosef Shaul Nathanson, in his Divrei Shaul (Likutim), suggests that the different reactions to the two dreams resulted naturally from the difference in content.  The brothers' resentment intensified after their heard the first dream because they naturally suspected that this depiction originated from Yosef's ambitions of authority and leadership.  If Yosef dreamt about their grain bowing to his, the brothers presumed, this could only be because these kinds of thoughts occupied his mind during the daytime hours.  The second dream, however, included Yaakov and Bilha.  The brothers realized that nobody – certainly not Yosef – longs to see his parents bow submissively before him.  The inclusion of Yosef's parents in this vision proved that it was prophetic in nature, that Yosef beheld this dreams not as a result of his aspirations of authority, but as a form of prophecy. Therefore, the second dream did not intensify the brothers' hatred towards Yosef.  They understood that he does not harbor megalomaniacal ambitions of power and authority over his brothers, and he beheld these dreams as prophecies of the future.

 

Nevertheless, even though hearing this second dream did not intensify the feelings of hatred, "His brothers felt jealous of him" (37:11).  The recognition of Yosef's dreams as a form of prophecy could not cool the flames of jealousy that burned within the brothers.  These feelings of envy likely caused them to dismiss even this second dream as but a manifestation of Yosef's childish fantasies of power, and they therefore felt justified in acting to eliminate their brother from the family, given the threat they thought he posed to the family.  Their jealousy blinded them to the obvious but disquieting reality that Yosef was destined to greatness, and they instead attributed his visions to his aspirations of authority.

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Yosef and the Mysterious Man - or Angel

  The Torah tells in Parashat Vayeshev that when Yosef arrived in Shekhem in search of his brothers, "A man encountered him, and behold, he was walking lost in the field; the man asked him, 'What do you seek?'" (37:15).  Yosef of course replied that he had come searching for his brothers, and the man informed him that they had relocated in Dotan.

 

            Rashi famously cites from the Midrash Tanchuma that this "man" was, in truth, not a man at all, but rather the angel Gavriel, whereas Ibn Ezra and, less explicitly, the Rashbam, maintain that the Torah refers here to a human being.

 

            The Midrashic interpretation of ish ("man") affects the reading of this verse on several different levels.  Exegetically, it resolves the question that would otherwise arise concerning the seeming superfluity in this verse.  At first glance, there is no reason for the Torah to record this brief exchange between Yosef and the ish; it could have simply stated that Yosef found his brothers in Dotan, or, at most, that he was told that they went to Dotan.  The Midrash answers this question by identifying this ish as an angel, such that this encounter is most certainly worthy of note.  Interestingly, the Rashbam addresses this question and suggests a much different answer, namely, that this exchange is recorded to emphasize Yosef's devotion to his father.  Upon reaching Shekhem, he expended efforts to find his brothers, rather than simply returning home and informing his father that he could not find them in Shekhem.  In this way, the Rashbam explains this account without resorting to the Midrashic reading.

 

            On a broader level, the Midrash seeks to emphasize the hand of Providence guiding the events in this narrative.  The presence of an angel directing Yosef to his brothers signifies the direct involvement of God in this episode, executing His plan to bring Yaakov's family to Egypt in fulfillment of the prophecy of berit bein ha-betarim (see Ramban).

 

            Thirdly, by introducing an angel into this narrative, Chazal perhaps sought to add a homiletic, allegorical dimension to Yosef's encounter with the ish.  The Chidushei Ha-Rim cites the Rebbe of Kotzk as viewing this exchange as symbolic of an "exchange" of sorts that periodically occurs – or ought to occur – between every individual and his internal "angel."  Every so often, as we "walk lost in the field," when we lose our direction in life, distracted by the physical and material enjoyments this world has to offer, an "angel," our conscience, appears to us and asks, "What do you seek?"  Meaning, what are our goals and aspirations in life?  What exactly are we out to achieve?  Certain experiences and situations compel a person to carefully determine which direction he wishes to follow, what precisely he seeks to accomplish during his brief sojourn on earth.  These "exchanges" between a person and himself help him avoid getting "lost in the field," and ensure that he walks not aimlessly in the world of luxury and physical gratification, but rather in a clear direction towards a life of spiritual meaning and excellence.

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Yehuda's Descent - The Danger of Indifference

  In the midst of the narrative of the sale of Yosef and his travails in Egypt, the Torah inserts the story of Yehuda and Tamar, which begins by informing us that "Yehuda descended from his brothers" (38:1).  Rashi famously cites from the Midrash that Yehuda "descended" not merely geographically or topographically, but in terms of his family stature: "They deposed him from his position of greatness when they saw their father's anguish [as a result of Yosef's absence].  They said [to Yehuda], 'You told us to sell him; had you told us to bring him back, we would have listened to you!'"

 

            At first glance, Yehuda's demotion as a result of the sale of Yosef seems terribly unfair.  True, he had conceived of the idea of selling his brother, but he had done so only after the others had suggested killing him.  Yehuda had at least given Yosef a chance for survival, after the other brothers had decided upon eliminating him.  Why did he deserve to be ousted from his position for his efforts, just because they were only partially successful?

 

            A similar question arises from an astounding remark in Bereishit Rabba (85:4): "Whoever begins a mitzva and does not complete it buries his wife and children.  From whom do we learn this – from Yehuda."  Yehuda "began the mitzva" of saving Yosef by suggesting that his brothers sell him as a slave rather than kill him, but he stopped there.  Rather than completing the mitzva, by bringing Yosef back home safely, he stopped intervening when he won his brothers' consent to sell Yosef.  Thereafter, Yehuda lost his wife and two children, as told in the next section, serving as a warning to all those who begin a mitzva but fail to bring it through to completion.  (See also Masekhet Sota 13b.)

 

            Why should a person be punished for initiating a mitzva but failing to complete it?  Does such a person deserve harsher retribution than those who do not initiate the mitzva in the first place?

 

            It would seem that Chazal seek to warn against the all too common phenomenon of great ideas that never reach fruition due to laziness or indifference.  People are often driven to initiate new projects and embark on new mitzva ventures, but once the initial excitement wanes, and the "elbow grease" and pressures begins to mount, these projects and ventures are relegated to the back burners.  To be successful, in any area, a person must be prepared to pursue his goals even when obstacles arise and when the adrenaline ceases to flow, when the initial rush of idealism and determined resolve subsides.  Chazal therefore sharply criticize the one who lets go of his aspirations the moment difficulties surface and the emotional energy begins to decline.  The warning regarding this person's wife and children likely relates to this theme.  Marriage and parenting both begin with a rush of excitement and idealism, which gradually begins to subside as the pressures of family life mount and the day-to-day responsibilities overshadow the broader goals and aspirations.  A person with a tendency to begin new ventures without completing them, who stops his pursuit of goals when he meets with challenges or adversity, will find it difficult to succeed in his family life, in the capacity of spouse and parent, roles which require steadfast resolve and unshakeable lifelong commitment.  (See also Rav Yerucham Lebovitz, Da'at Torah.)

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Yosef's Dreams of Unity - Avoiding Edom's Fate

 

            Towards the beginning of Parashat Vayeshev we read of Yosef's famous dreams that foreshadowed his eventual rule over his brothers.  In the first dream, Yosef beheld himself and his brothers binding sheaves of grain in the fields, when suddenly all his brothers' sheaves bowed before his. Yosef's second dream featured the sun, the moon and eleven stars – presumably alluding to his brothers and parents – bowing before him.  Earlier this week, we saw the view of Rav Yaakov Mecklenberg, in his work Ha-ketav Ve-ha-kabbala, claiming that Yosef's dreams in no way resulted from his personal ambitions of power and authority.  Based on Abarbanel's interpretation of the second verse of the parasha, Rav Mecklenberg held that Yosef conducted himself humbly and submissively with his brothers, and had no plans or desires of asserting any sort of authority over them.  Other commentators, however, maintain that Yosef's dreams indeed reflected his ambitions to one day rule over his brothers (see, for example, Ramban and Seforno to 37:10).

 

            Rav Yitzchak Stollman, in his work Minchat Yitzchak (Detroit, 1936), suggested a novel, more precise explanation as to the kind of youthful ambitions that led Yosef to behold these dreams of leadership.  The final section of the previous parasha, Parashat Vayishlach, listed the children of Esav and concluded with the names of the alufim, or chieftains, of the Edomite nation that Esav founded.  Rav Stollman suggested that the Torah here seeks to explain the reason why the nation of Edom never rose to regional prominence.  Esav's descendants divided into independent tribes, each led by its own aluf, and never came together under a single banner of leadership.  The Edomite tribes were economically independent, each supporting itself without pooling resources with the others, and they developed into distinct and politically disjointed provinces.  This prevented the people of Edom from developing into a powerful nation that would exert any kind of influence over its neighboring nations.

 

            Yosef, the young, perceptive "dreamer," understood what was developing in nearby Edom and recognized the need for the twelve sons of Yaakov to avoid this mistake.  In his first dream, he saw all twelve brothers harvesting grain together in the same field, symbolizing economic cooperation and joint ventures.  Indeed, the Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 84) comments on this dream, "You gather fruits and I gather fruits; yours rot and mine stand."  Yosef foresaw the need for cooperation such that when some tribes are struck by famine, they can be sustained by the others.  (Of course, this is precisely what happened when Yosef supported his brothers during drought that ravaged Canaan.)  Secondly, he beheld the dream of the sun, the moon and the stars, alluding to the importance of strong political leadership.  Am Yisrael would not endure if the tribes separate into politically disjointed clans, as occurred in Edom; they must join together under a single central authority, and only in this way could they form a strong and influential nation.

 

            Yosef's vision manifested itself later, as well, after his brothers and their families relocated in Egypt.  Throughout Yosef's life, Benei Yisrael lived together in Goshen, as a single people separate and distinct from the native Egyptians.  Soon after Yosef's death, however, as implied by the verses towards the beginning of Sefer Shemot (1:6-7), they began to disperse throughout the country (va-timalei ha-aretz otam).  Yosef's death was followed by the death of his dreams of a unified people bound together under a strong leadership.  It would take the cruel oppression by Pharaoh and his taskmasters to once again bring Am Yisrael together as a single nation with a shared destiny.

 

            Unfortunately, Yosef's brothers misunderstood Yosef's dreams as reflecting personal ambitions of power, rather than purely idealistic visions of Am Yisrael and genuine concern for their development into a strong, fortified people.  As a result, his dreams would have to be fulfilled through the agonizing process of Yosef's slavery and imprisonment, and the brothers' desperate attempts to purchase grain from the Egyptian viceroy. Ultimately, however, Yosef's dreams laid the groundwork for the forging of a distinct national identity on foreign soil, which allowed for the eventual emergence of a strong, unified nation bound by the same set of beliefs and spiritual ambitions.

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Yosef's Humility

 

            Towards the  beginning of Parashat Vayeshev, the Torah describes Yosef as a "na'ar et benei Bilha ve-et benei Zilpa neshei aviv" – "a lad with the sons of Bilha and the sons of Zilpa, his father's wives" (37:2).  Rashi explains this clause as referring to two distinct characteristics.  First, Yosef acted as a na'ar, immaturely, paying inordinate attention to his appearance.  Secondly, he was frequently "with the sons of Bilha and the sons of Zilpa," who found themselves shunned by their older brothers, the sons of Leah.  Yosef, despite being a son of Rachel, the most beloved of Yaakov's wives, nevertheless befriended and dealt kindly with the sons of Bilha and Zilpa.  According to Rashi, then, this description is intended to reveal the seeds of contention that would later develop into bitter tension between Yosef and his older brothers.

 

            In a generally similar vein, the Rashbam explains that Yosef befriended the sons of Bilha and Zilpa and thereby brought upon himself the enmity of the sons of Leah.

 

            Abarbanel, however, explains this verse much differently, claiming that the word na'ar in this context means "serving."  Yosef, in his humility, lowered himself before even the sons of Bilha and Zilpa, treating them with respect and even as his overlords.  All the more so, then, did he conduct himself respectfully towards the sons of Leah.  According to Abarbanel, this verse seeks to extol Yosef's virtues, as he humbled himself before all his brothers, including the sons of Bilha and Zilpa.  For this reason the Torah makes a point of identifying Bilha and Zilpa as neshei aviv – Yaakov's wives.  The Torah emphasizes that Yosef treated these wives' sons no differently as he did the sons of Leah, recognizing that Bilha and Zilpa had no lower a status in the family than Rachel or Leah.

 

            Rav Yaakov Mecklenberg, in his Ha-ketav Ve-ha-kabbala, cites Abarbanel's interpretation of this phrase, but advances a different theory regarding its purpose in the narrative.  Whereas Abarbanel saw this description as simply extolling Yosef's humility, Rav Mecklenberg claimed that it sheds light on the ensuing events.  The fact that Yosef conducted himself with such humility even towards the sons of Bilha and Zilpa proves the prophetic nature of his dreams of power and authority.  As opposed to other commentators, who understood Yosef's dreams as a natural result of his ambitions of leadership, Rav Mecklenberg contends that to the contrary, these dreams directly contrasted with Yosef's attitude towards his brothers.  He harbored no ambitions of power or prestige, feeling content working as a lowly, humble servant to his brothers.  Precisely for this reason he realized that his dreams were of prophetic significance, as they could not possibly have originated from any personal desire for authority, and he therefore felt compelled to share these dreams with his brothers.

 

            The brothers, of course, rashly concluded that Yosef's dreams reflected his longing to rule over them, and were naturally incensed.  This story thus emphasizes the importance of giving the benefit of the doubt rather than immediately attributing sinister motives to our family members and peers.  What people around us say or do can occasionally appear offensive despite never being intended as such.  According to Rav Mecklenberg, Yosef's brothers harbored resentment towards him because of a simple misunderstanding of his perspective and intentions.  Had they given Yosef the benefit of the doubt and sought to understand his motives, rather than immediately presuming his megalomaniacal lust for power, this tragic conflict could have been avoided, and the twelve brothers could have lived together in peace, harmony and mutual understanding.

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Potifar's Wife and Yosef's Leadership

          Parashat Vayeshev tells the famous story of Yosef and the wife of his Egyptian lord, Potifar, who desired Yosef and attempted to lure him to intimacy.  Yosef, however, continually resisted her attempts until finally he ran from the house, at which point Potifar's wife libelously charged that he had tried to force relations upon her.  In describing Yosef's response to Potifar's wife's advances, the Torah writes (39:10), "As she spoke to Yosef each day, he did not listen to her to lie with her, to be with her."  Rashi (based on the Gemara in Masekhet Sota 3b), noting the seemingly superfluous phrase "to be with her," explains this to mean that Yosef refused "to be with her in the world to come."

            The Chafetz Chayim (in Shem Olam, cited in Likutei Chafetz Chayim al Ha-Torah) explained this comment to mean that Yosef understood the eternal repercussions of the act he was asked to commit.  Had he succumbed to Potifar's wife's advances, he would have been "with her" forever more, even in the next world.  For all eternity, he would bear the stain of this crime upon his soul; his eternal identity would be tainted by his association with Potifar's wife.  Thus, according to Rashi, when the Torah speaks of Yosef refusing "to lie with her, to be with her," it means that Yosef refused to lie with her because he did not wish to be with her, he was determined not to allow his eternal identity to be tainted by this grievous sin.

            It thus emerges that what enabled Yosef to overcome the temptation presented by Potifar's wife was the awareness of the repercussions of sin, the understanding that wrongful acts committed in private, concealed from public knowledge, yield eternally significant effects.

            It is this quality, perhaps, that rendered Yosef worthy for the leadership role he later assumed.  Leaders often try to dissociate their private lives from their public role, feeling that their private conduct has no impact upon or implications regarding their leadership position.  But Yosef understood that private misconduct is as consequential as public disgrace, that being with Potifar's wife for a few moments in her home meant being with her eternally in the next world.  Such a person – whose conscience draws no distinction between private and public contexts – is truly worthy of a public leadership role.

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Do Two Walk Together if They had Not First Convened

    Towards the end of the haftara for Parashat Vayeshev, the prophet Amos poses a number of rhetorical questions, beginning with, "Do two walk together if they had not first convened?" ("Ha-yeilkhu shenayim yachdav bilti im no'adu" – Amos 3:3).  Ibn Ezra explains this verse as directed towards those who doubted the authenticity of the prophet's exhortations and warnings.  When two people happen to arrive at a certain location at the precise same time, it can be guaranteed that they had previously agreed to convene at that place at that time.  Similarly, if a prophet issues a warning and the forewarned events indeed transpire, then clearly he has been commissioned by God to deliver the message.

            Rav Mendel Hirsch, in his commentary to the haftarot, suggests a different reading of this verse.  He writes:

 

But, from that it follows that for Israel there should be no more serious pressing care than to carefully watch that it keeps the Torah of its God with unswerving loyalty.  Nothing may be less left casually to chance.  And that is just what here Israel is reproached with.  If two people, and even if it were for the most unimportant purpose, wish to go on a journey to the same place together, do they leave meeting together and going off together just to chance?  Do they not arrange and appoint a time, place and goal?  And dare we leave our conduct with God casually to chance, just if by chance it happens to suit our convenience…

 

According to this approach, Amos' analogy refers to two people who embark on a certain journey or campaign together.  Undoubtedly, if they want their journey or enterprise to succeed, they will carefully chart their course ahead of time and devise a detailed strategy.  They will not leave any aspect of the mission to chance, and will instead invest time, thought and effort into planning every detail.

            The prophet thus condemns the casual attitude exhibited by many towards Torah observance, the tendency to "play it by ear" and "see how things go" with regard to mitzvot.  Amos, speaking in the name of God, noticed that the people left their avodat Hashem to chance, making it dependent upon circumstances rather than molding circumstances to the best of their ability to accommodate mitzva observance.  Rav Hirsch notes in this context the warning repeated numerous times in the tokhechasection in Parashat Bechukotai (Vayikra 26:14-46) against "walking with Me be-keri," by chance.  According to Rav Hirsch, this refers to a passive, casual attitude towards mitzvot, whereby one arranges his life as he wishes and thereafter decides whether and how Torah observance fits into the mix.  Amos exhorts us to approach Torah observance with the same proactive, responsible attitude as people who "walk together" only after first devising a detailed strategy.  Our observance of mitzvot cannot be dependent on our personal schedule; to the contrary, our personal schedule must be designed in such a manner that it allows us to fully meet all our religious responsibilities.

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