Not all of
us sitting in this room are parents, but all of us are children. No matter what our age is now, as adults, I’m
sure we can still conjure up images of what life was like under our parent’s
roof. Did we feel adored or ignored? Did we feel supported or rejected? If we had siblings, what was our relationship
like? Did we manage to get through our
younger years without carrying scars that emotionally handicap us now?
If Joseph,
the main character in today’s Torah portion, could answer these same questions
he might be found saying: “There’s no
doubt in my mind that I was my father’s favorite child. It was probably a result of being the oldest
son of dad’s favored wife, my mother Rachel, but all I know is that Dad never
ignored me. I can still see the coat of
many colors that he gave me. It really
made me feel like a prince! Looking back
on it, I know I was probably a thorn in the side of my older brothers. They never could speak to me
peaceably…especially when I told them my dream about their sheaves gathering
around and bowing down to my sheaf. If I
ever doubted how much they hated me, I would only need to think back to the
time they threw me in the pit. They nearly
killed me! Of course they sold me
instead which is how I ended up in Egypt.
It has not been an easy course for me.
First I was accused of a crime I didn’t commit and then I was thrown in
prison. It wasn’t until I used my
talents as an interpreter of dreams that I was released and managed to work my
way into a position of power within Pharoah’s inner circles.”
If the story
had been a modern day tale, Joseph might have decided that his new life was
great, that he no longer needed a connection with his siblings who had treated
him so rottenly in the first place. He
might have held a grudge. When his
brothers appeared in Egypt to obtain food, he might have avoided any
conversation about his previous connection to them at all or he might have
merely ended the connection by accusing them of being spies.
Last week we
read in chapter 41 verses 50-51 that Joseph called the name of his firstborn
Manasseh for, “God has made me forget all my hardship and all my father’s
household.” If that’s the case, why does
he break down and reveal his identity this week? Why does he announce that he is Joseph and
ask if his father is still alive? Isn’t
it possible that he now holds his father partially responsible for what
happened to him? After all, if Jacob
hadn’t favored him, hadn’t given him the coat of many colors, hadn’t sent him
out to check on his brothers, wouldn’t things have worked out differently? It’s hard not to imagine some resentment on
Joseph’s part both of his brothers and of his father.
The Torah
leaves us with a very different image of Joseph, however. He recognizes his brothers’ fear when they
back away from him after he announces, “I am Joseph. Is my father still alive?” He continues: “And NOW be not distressed, nor
reproach yourselves for having sold me here, for it was to be a provider that
G-d sent me ahead of you….G-d has sent me ahead of you to insure your survival
in the land and to sustain you for a momentous deliverance.”
Perhaps up
to this point Joseph would have blamed his brothers for betraying him, but the
word NOW is emphasized in the text as he reaches a different conclusion. Rabbi Abraham Twerski commented on Joseph’s
words by saying, “While these may be comforting words, there was nevertheless
no denying that when the brothers sold Joseph into slavery they were acting as
free agents with freedom of choice. The
Divine design could have been implemented in other ways; therefore, this
rational could not absolve them from the onus of their deed. How then were they not to be angry at
themselves? The answer to this lies in
the word NOW, for as the Talmud says, this term denotes teshuvah. Appropriate repentance for the wrongs one has
done, by resolving not to repeat them and trying to eliminate from one’s
character those traits that made the wrong deed possible, can lift the heavy
burden of the past off one’s shoulders and allow one to deal with the “now,”
with an un encumbered present.”
What are the
lessons, we might take away from this very dramatic parasha? First, there are many mysteries in our lives,
repeated sufferings, tragedies, of which we try to make sense. We can go beyond anger and pessimism to find
the ability to triumph over our lot in life.
We can learn to be “victors of circumstance” rather than “victims of
circumstance?” (Rabbi Sidney Greenberg)
Second, we can bridge the gaps that may exist in our own families,
between parents and children and siblings.
We can come to terms with one another, but not if we maintain walls of
silence. And finally, one way to deal with
anger and depression that is caused by turning inward against oneself, is to do
something about it now…by actually doing teshuvah for one’s actions and
eliminating the need “to ruminate on the past.”
(Twerski)
Shabbat
Shalom.
No comments:
Post a Comment