Yosef's eventful life serves as a parable for the sufferings of the entire Jewish people. The one whose father favored him from amongst all his sons and prepared for him a coat of many colors, is sold in the market as the lowliest slave, passing from one owner to the next. Ruled over by many, he is thrown into the pit for sins he did not commit, and must rely on the mercy of ministers and princes. Even so, he remains in charge wherever he finds himself.
During the great darkness that overwhelmed the Jewish People in the last century, Yosef’s persona served as a source of inspiration for rabbinic sermons. In his Mishneh Sakhir, Rabbi Yissachar Shlomo Teichtal writes that he had a personal experience that offered an innovative understanding of the story of Yosef. Rabbi Teichtal had studied in the Yeshiva of Pressburg, where he became a close student of the Grand Rabbi of Munkatch and initially agreed with many of his radical ideas. He began to write his well-known work Em haBanim Semekha during the Second World War, when he became involved in moral and ethical studies. With the systematic murder of Hungarian Jewry during the war, he was captured by the Nazis and was killed in a transport heading to Auschwitz in 1944. He describes how the vicissitudes of war forced him to remove the clothing that identified him as a Jew and disguise himself so that no one could tell that he was Jewish. It was at that moment, when the rabbi was dressed as a non-Jew, that he felt especially close to Yosef, who had been stripped of his special garment and was forced to dress in a manner unbecoming his personality and status.
This is how Rabbi Teichtal describes Yosef’s experience on that fateful day when he returned home, only to be propositioned by Potiphar’s wife. Rabbi Teichtal imagined that the house to which Yosef was heading was the traditional study-hall, and that the “work” that he was going to perform was Torah study, just as he always studied while in his father’s home.
But at that moment when he sat down to learn, he found himself at a loss, because he recognized that his situation had forced him to remove his Jewish identity and the image of his father, and now he had no choice but to dress as an Egyptian. The coat of many colors that had been made by his father that identified him as a Torah scholar had been removed, and he had even begun to have his hair cut in the Egyptian fashion, that is, his sidelocks had been cut. At that moment, Yosef felt trapped in his new, Egyptian clothing and out of a sense of pain and discomfort he cries out to God “Please examine it; is this your son’s coat or not?”
When the rabbinic sages said that his father’s image appeared to him, their intention was to say that he felt terrible for being forced to study Torah while bereft of his father’s image – the Jewish clothing that identified him with his father – and he was complaining about his bitter lot.
Rabbi Teichtal goes on to tell a parallel story that took place during World War I in Chust:
One morning, the rabbi of Chust was walking to the mikveh prior to the morning service, and he passed by a group of Soviet prisoners of war who were sweeping the streets of the city. He noticed that one of the prisoners appeared to show him particular respect by clearing a path for him to walk. Again when returning from the mikveh, the man politely cleared a path for him. The rabbi bowed his head and thanked the man.
It was at this point that the prisoner spoke up, saying: There is no need to thank me for this. I am obligated to show honor to the community rabbi, just as I was honored as rabbi in my hometown.
The rabbi of Chust was shocked to hear this, and he did his utmost to have the prisoner freed from demeaning labor. After speaking to him, the rabbi realized that the prisoner was truly a learned man, and he looked out for him and invited him to speak in the synagogue on Shabbat.
When the word got around that this man would speak publicly, many people came to hear him, as it was unusual to have an opportunity to hear a prisoner speak. With the synagogue packed with people, as the prisoner approached the Holy Ark to speak, the head of the local rabbinical court suggested to him that he change out of his prisoner’s garb and wear something more appropriate. The prisoner responded: No! This is the only clothing I am willing to wear!
The prisoner stood in front of the Holy Ark and began his speech with the following words:
Master of the Universe! “Please examine it; is this your son’s coat or not?”
As he said this with a crying, bitter voice, he took hold of his prisoner’s garment and said “Master of the Universe! Are you honored by the clothing that I am wearing!?”
And there was no need for him to continue, as the entire community began weeping with great emotion.
(Mishne Sakhir, Parashat Vayeshev)
In this story related by Rabbi Teichtel, the Jewish prisoner expressed his longing by referring to the image of Yaakov, that is to say, typical Jewish clothing, which had been stolen from him. This Russian prisoner embodied the righteous Yosef of our parasha, who cries out to God from pit where he was thrown using the language of his brothers: “Please examine it; is this your son’s coat or not?” turning the words on themselves.
But let us return to Rabbi Teichtel’s own experience and to the midrash that he understood anew, having lost his Jewish clothing and identity. The Torah describes how Yosef entered the home of his master, Potiphar, in order to do his work. The midrash offers two contradictory explanations of Yosef’s intent at that moment. The first approach has Yosef coming to the house to perform his ordinary, daily duties, while the second approach suggests that he had decided to finally respond positively to the entreaties of Potiphar’s wife to sleep with her. Only at the last moment, with the help of his father’s image, is he saved from this sin.
“He came into the house,” to do his master’s accounting. Another approach: this teaches that he came to sleep with her, but the Holy One Blessed be He prepared a vision of his father’s image.
(Midrash Aggada, VaYeshev)
According to the first approach brought in this midrash, Yosef entered the house innocently “to do his master’s accounting” – which may even mean that he turned his attention to Heavenly accounting. According to the second approach, the difficulties of exile coupled with the loss of his identifying elements serve as expressions of the spiritual distancing that took place between Yosef and his heritage, as he became more and more attuned to the local Egyptian norms and values. Recalling his father’s image in a sudden, dramatic, manner, served to redirect Yosef’s internal sensibilities. There is no better way to evoke a vast array of details, than by gazing upon a single figure that represents so many significant values. The point of view of the character – of Yaakov – served to illuminate the path for Yosef, encouraging him to make proper choices and preventing him from falling into the dangers that lurk in unfamiliar places.
Whether his father’s image served as the image of a traditional Jew, or as a spiritual model, separation from this image was surely a painful and traumatic process.
From our somewhat pained perspective – albeit a perspective that carries with it some level of consolation – one can say that there are occasions when removing clothing is essential. There are times that call for a return to the primeval state of nakedness that will allow a person to clarify for themselves the very roots of the image of their father, so that they can renew their outer clothing in an even more substantive, meaningful manner.
As we approach the days of Hanukkah, perhaps we can suggest that renewal can begin only at a point when the destruction is near, when only a small flask of pure olive oil remains. That small amount of oil may suffice to act as the source from whence great gates can be opened wide, turning darkness into great light.
