Parashat Miketz (Chanukah): Dreams

Many years ago, a school friend told me something I've never forgotten, and it's directly related to the start of this week's Parasha. He said he'd heard that a recent archaeological expedition had made an astounding discovery in Egypt. Apparently, they had found the skeletons of seven cows buried one next to the other and had dated the remains to around the time of Joseph's sojourn in the land. My eyes almost popped out in excitement. He waited a moment and then with a wry smile added: 'but it was a dream, remember?' To my amusement (which should really be 'shame'), I've subsequently repeated the same joke to many other people and everyone falls for it! 

 This week's Parasha of Miketz tells us that:

Two years passed. Then Pharaoh had a dream: he was standing by the Nile when seven handsome, healthy cows came up out of the river and grazed among the reeds. Then seven other cows came up from the river after them, ugly and gaunt and stood beside them on the riverbank. The ugly gaunt cows ate up the seven handsome healthy cows. Pharaoh awoke. (Translation by Rabbi Sacks ztl in the Koren Magerman Tanach) Bereshit 41:1-4

After relating the contents of the next dream (which I will discuss later), the Torah tells us that a very troubled Pharaoh tried to understand the meaning of his dream but none of Egypt's finest astrologers or sages could 'offer an interpretation that satisfied him.' Whereupon the chief cupbearer related his experiences in prison with a young Hebrew slave. We know what happened next.

Like you, I've read this story countless times and I can even sing the song from the musical, but have you ever wondered how Joseph instinctively knew that the seven cows and the seven sheaves of corn from the King's second dream related to time - namely the years of plenty and famine that would overtake the country?

I will be referring to a fascinating series of shiurim given by Rabbi David Fohrman on the topic of Joseph's dreams, some of which are described in this week's Parasha (you can find out more at http://www.alephbeta.org)

Rabbi Fohrman makes the point that the astrologers were unable to interpolate the idea of time from those dreams. Our commentators explain that they believed that the seven cows could be representing a number of different elements in the Kingdom such as the number of crops or how many daughters had been fathered by Pharaoh. 'Time' never entered their thoughts.

If we put this to one side for a moment, let us examine the situation that 30-year-old Joseph found himself in. Over a period of 13 years, he had been sold at the age of 17 and was now standing before the throne. The following had taken place:

·         Joseph interpreted his dreams to his family.

·         He was given a beautiful coat by his father.

·         He was sent by Jacob to find out what had happened to his brothers and their flocks.

·         The brothers removed his coat and shortly afterwards, tore it to shreds.

·         Joseph was thrown into the pit (which is called a 'be'or' in Hebrew).

·         He was sold to Potiphar and thrown into prison after a wrongful accusation of rape by his master’s wife. He stayed there for up to 12 years (according to the Mishna Tanchuma Chapter 9), which also factors in the two additional years he received as punishment for asking the butler to request his release.

·         After Pharaoh's dreams, Joseph was rescued from prison (for which the Torah also uses the word 'be'or') by Pharaoh

·         He was given new clothes to wear.

·         He interpreted Pharaoh's dreams.

In shorthand, we can order these events as follows:

Dreams - given coat - sent away by his father - coat removed - thrown into the pit - removed, sold, thrown into prison - rescued from the 'pit' by Pharaoh - given new clothes - interpreted the King's dreams. 

The story detailed in Parshiot Vayeishev and Mikeitz can be seen to form a textual structure called a chiasm, where the events at the beginning are mirrored in reverse at the end. In Hebrew, this is called an ATBASH which is an acronym for:

Aleph, Tav, Bet, Shin, followed by Gimmel/Resh, Dalet/Kuf etc).

How is this relevant to our topic of Joseph connecting the dots in his master's dreams to come up with the answer he does (i.e., the seven cows representing seven years)?

The clue lies in the language that Pharaoh used to describe the cows. Referring back to the text, he said that he saw 'seven handsome (or 'beautiful of form') healthy cows'. The word the Torah uses to describe 'handsome' is v’yifot to’ar.

As Rabbi Fohrman likes to say: 'where have we seen this before'?

In fact, only two people in the entire Torah are referred to as being yafeh to'ar and yafeh mareh (literally, 'beautiful to behold') and these are Joseph and his mother, Rachel.

In Parashat Vayetzei, The Torah tells us that 'v'Rachel hayetah yefat toar vi’fat mareh, and Rachel was beautiful of form and had beautiful appearance'

We also know that Jacob loved Rachel and initially agreed to work seven years for his deceitful uncle in order to gain her hand in marriage. After the sisters were swapped, he worked another seven years. The first seven years ended up in his marrying Leah and the second period was undertaken for Rachel's hand.

Coming to the second set of Pharaoh's cows, the King describes them:

'Vehineh sheva-parot acherot olot achareihen, so after this, seven really ugly cows came out of the river too. Dalot v’Ra’ot to’ar, they were poor and really ugly, v’rakot basar, they were thin and gaunt.'

The word 'rakot' though spelled differently in Hebrew, is a homonym and the only other time it is used in the Torah is when describing Leah, in the same verse as the one I quoted regarding Rachel.

'v'einei Leah rakot - and Leah's eyes were thin (or soft).'

It is entirely conceivable that Joseph related the two periods of seven years to his father's experience labouring for his uncle (not including the final six years which followed the fourteen and were not connected to the marriages.)

Initially in Pharaoh's dream, for a short while, seven well-fed cows grazed alongside seven emaciated ones. Then, something remarkable happened, the seven thin cows feasted on the others until the first set had been entirely swallowed up and astonishingly, the gaunt cows didn't change their shape or form as a result of this action.

It is very likely that in trying to interpret the dreams, Joseph's thoughts would have focused on what his brothers (of whom, the majority were the children of Leah) did to him. They threw their sibling into the pit. It was as though he too had been swallowed up. He was sold on and disappeared and as far as he was concerned, it was as though he'd never existed in their lives. This being despite his own dreams that they would bow down to him (as described at the start of Vayeishev). Nobody, looking at the brothers, would realise that they had carried out this crime which bordered on fratricide. Like the cows, the brothers did not change their appearance or demeanour.

One could even say that the Leah cows had swallowed the Rachel cow. 

Returning to Jacob who had worked for seven years to marry Rachel, can you imagine how he must have felt when he woke up next to her sister, Leah? I would guess that he probably questioned the validity of his previous seven years’ labour. He'd no doubt believed that all his work had been for naught, as it were, swallowed up. Jacob married Rachel a week later but had to work for another seven years, to pay his uncle for his youngest daughter’s hand.

The result of Jacob's efforts in winning his beloved's hand in marriage is through the birth of Joseph which the Torah described in last week’s parasha as yefat to’ar vi’fe mareh (can you see the language is nearly identical to Rachel’s description?)

If we summarise the strands we've discussed, we have a situation where Joseph sees Pharaoh as a father figure who has rescued him from the 'pit' and in the process has brought to an end the cycle he has endured over the last 13 years. When he hears Pharaoh's first dream, he relates to it through his own family history and the challenging situation that concerned his father's efforts – the two seven year periods spent winning his mother's hand in marriage. He adds to this, how he sees himself as the 'fat cow' that was swallowed by his brothers, the thin cows. 

As far as he is concerned, explaining Pharaoh's first dream is a 'no brainer'. It all makes sense to him. That he can use these thoughts to interpret the dream is the way in which Gd enables him to be able to connect the dots. This gift is not granted to the astrologers.

The clincher is that, now, as Rabbi Fohrman puts it so beautifully, the fat cows must look after the thin ones. The situation has changed and that is where Joseph's interpretation of the first dream and Pharaoh's second dream come to the fore.

This is my own interpretation, based on Rabbi Sacks’ teachings. What is Joseph's first dream?

There we were binding sheaves in the field, when suddenly my sheaf stood up and remained upright; then your sheaves gathered around and bowed low to my sheaf.” (Genesis 37)

What is Pharaoh's second dream?

He fell asleep and dreamed a second time: Seven ears of grain, solid and healthy, grew on a single stalk. (But close behind them sprouted seven ears, thin and scorched by the east wind.  And the thin ears swallowed up the seven solid and full ears. Then Pharaoh awoke: it was a dream! (41)

Both dreams cover a similar theme, namely, the source of food which is wheat. 

Egypt, renowned as the breadbasket of the world was going to be stricken by a severe famine. Joseph was waiting for his own dream to be realised and for this to happen, there would need to be a confluence of both scenarios. In other words, his family would eventually bow down to him in order to receive their sustenance in the form of grain. It only made sense that Pharaoh's second dream underscored his first one, quite literally. It is less of a leap to interpret the second dream if you understand the meaning of the first. Joseph himself states this when he sums up both dreams by saying:

“Pharaoh’s dreams are one and the same: Pharaoh has been told what Gd is about to do. The seven healthy cows are seven years, and the seven healthy ears are seven years; it is the same dream.

As Jews, we know how significant dreams can be, not only throughout the Tanach but, sometimes in our own lives. Joseph was punished by having his prison sentence elongated by two years (according to Rashi) because he placed his trust in the Butler whose dream he had interpreted, instead of believing that Gd was working behind the scenes. Sometimes, like Joseph, we too go through our own chiasm, our very own Atbash and can't see how events pan out for the better. Maybe it behoves us to take a moment, every now and again, and join the dots that make up our own lives. The events that led us to where we are today and where we could be tomorrow. Sometimes, when we feel 'swallowed up', we could look at the story of Joseph and gain some comfort in the knowledge that, as the song goes 'things can only get better'.  They did for Joseph and they can for us too.

Shavuah Tov, Chanukah Sameach and Chodesh Tov.

Parashat Veyeishev - Hats and Coats

 It is one of the most memorable quotes in a film brimmed with them.

Having sung the mournful ‘Anatevka’ the villagers look at each other.

Golde says, “Eh, it’s just a place.”

Mendel, the Rabbi’s son adds, “And our forefathers have been forced out of many, many places at a moment’s notice.”

At which point, Tevye shrugs his shoulders and says philosophically, “Maybe that’s why we always wear our hats.”

I have always felt a deep level of sympathy for Jacob.  It seems to be that whenever he thinks he’s managed to find contentment, it evades him. 

In Parashat Toldot, he was given no option by his mother but to deceive his father in order to receive the blessings that had been promised by Gd to both his grandfather Abraham and his son Isaac.  In doing so, he incurred the murderous wrath of his brother. 

He finds true love in Rachel and is himself deceived by his uncle when poor Leah is substituted under the veil.  Last week, we learned how his beloved Rachel died in childbirth (our Rabbis tell us that she was only 36).  If this was not tragic enough, his daughter was violated by Shechem and the subsequent massacre of the male population of the town of Shechem was carried out by two of his sons.  The family, who had spent ten years travelling from Charan, were forced to flee.  Can’t the poor man settle down and enjoy life?  Will he ever be able to lay his hat down in his tent and call this abode ‘home’?  (I’m paraphrasing the popular song). 

The first verse in this week’s Parasha seems to indicate that this is the case.

Genesis 37:1

Now Jacob was settled in the land where his father had lived as a stranger, in the land of Canaan.

Chizkuni, a 13th Century French Commentator writes that this verse follows the description of Eisav and his descendants' settlement of Edom and Mount Seir, an area which lies in Southwestern Jordan between the Dead Sea and Aqaba and includes the ancient city of Petra.  He says that, in the same way that Eisav had settled the land, although he had initially entered it as an alien to the area, Jacob was also able to claim Canaan as his birth right.  This is contrasted with his father and grandfather's existence as 'strangers' when they inhabited the country.

For all intents and purposes, the Torah is telling us that Jacob was finally home and his nomadic existence had come to an end.  He could take his hat off and place it safely on the biblical version of a hatstand.  If we work out the arithmetic, we can see that he was 108 years old when Joseph was sold into slavery (He died at 147 and lived his last 17 years in Egypt having been reunited with his son after an absence of 22 years). 

Seder Olam Rabba, a 2nd Century CE Jewish chronology, tells us that Jacob and his entourage finally arrived in Canaan nine years before the events that are about to be described took place, when Joseph was 17.  His life too had been tumultuous, having left his grandfather Lavan's house two years previously and then losing his mother Rachel at the young age of 36, six months earlier in Bethlehem inside the border of the land.  He'd lived in Hebron for less than a decade.  He was too young to wear a hat, so he might have used the 'hatstand' for his expensive new coat!

We know what happened next and how the family was splintered as a result of the nefarious selling of Joseph by his brothers (excluding Benjamin) and his transportation to Egypt.  This episode is followed by the sad tale of Judah who, after the sale, was rightfully blamed by his brothers for their actions and as we are told 'left his brothers' (see Chapter 38).  He doesn't reappear as part of the family until Chapter 43, after they have returned from Egypt having met Joseph for the first time in over a decade.

If we consider the impact all of this has had on a very elderly man and his offspring, we have a pretty sad state of affairs.  We began reading the Parasha with such a sense of hope.  Didn't we say that Jacob was settled in the land?  Didn't we emphasise the fact that he had finally started to see that the promise given to his grandfather and then passed on to his father, was coming to fruition?  By the time we reach Chapter 43, our history is anything but settled.  As for Joseph's coat, the hatstand may still be in place, but the once beautiful garment now lies tattered.  Lord knows where Jacob’s hat can be located.

'England has been all she could be to the Jews - The Jews will be all they can be to England.' Thus was writ the banner outside the offices of the Jewish Chronicle at the start of World War 1.  By the end of the war, no less than 2,425 Jewish servicemen had been killed, along with 6,500 wounded.  Another 700 were killed fighting for this country during the Second World War.  Over 3000 Jewish citizens died protecting the United Kingdom over the span of both wars.

I know that many of us saw the recent David Baddiel documentary 'Jews Don't Count' on Channel 4.  Some of us also read the book.  The programme made for depressing viewing, didn’t it?  Baddiel stated that it wasn't aimed at us but at our non-Jewish fellow citizens.  How many viewers asked the question that occupied my mind, both when reading the book and watching the programme?

It went along the lines of:

We were readmitted to this country over 350 years ago.  We fought to be recognised metaphorically and physically.  To be represented in Parliament.  To be able to attend university, followed by our children.  To take up any profession or skill that we could.  We strove to be treated as equals in the eyes of our countrymen and women.  Why, after more than three centuries, have we come to the conclusion, according to Mr Baddiel and many others that 'we don't count'?

Do you feel settled?

Do you feel as important as anyone else?

Did you or your father or grandfather risk his life to protect the entire nation, irrespective of their religious background?

In short, are we settled?  Can we truly feel secure in being able to place our hats and coats onto the hooks or coat stands that greet us as we open our front doors?  Are we able to send our children to school in Stamford Hill truly safe in the knowledge that they will come home without being attacked?

Must we really spend thousands of pounds of money that we don't have, to pay for security guards and CCTV systems and the exorbitant costs that go hand-in-hand with maintaining these?

 

Tonight, we will start celebrating the festival of Chanukah, where we commemorate the miracle of the Menorah that should have provided enough light for one day but miraculously lit up the Beit Hamikdash for a further seven.

People tend to forget that the victory of Yehudah HaMacabee, and his four brothers, in ending the Seleucid rule over Israel was fought on two fronts.  The first, against the Syrian Greeks themselves and the second, against the Hellenized Jews who controlled the Temple.  In both cases, a culture that was alien to our nation had infected the deepest foundations of our faith.  Our Holy Beit Hamikdash had been defiled.  Where we thought we had settled, having returned from the Babylonian Exile, we had instead settled, in a different way - by allowing ourselves to lose our national soul.  The Maccabees returned our people to the land of Israel physically, by fighting against the prevailing army, and spiritually, by reinstating and repairing the Beit Hamikdash to the point that the Hasmonean brothers smashed up the defiled altar and built a new, pure one.

The victory of the Maccabees was all the more significant as it showed that, when we put our minds to it, we can prove that Jews DO count.  In spite of the desire of others to question our legitimacy as rightful citizens of the land (as sadly, do many in the world today, when it comes to recognising the State of Israel), we stood firm and we prevailed. 

Tragically, in ancient Israel, our residency was cut-short just over a century later but we didn't lose hope and forever considered ourselves 'permanent settlers' for nearly two millennia.

Jacob's desire to settle is pitted against the events that transpired to change his plans.  This is our story - the history of the Jewish people.  Where we sought to lay down roots and remove our hats and coats, we were frustrated in our efforts.  Yet, we have never given up hope of achieving this.  Jacob’s journey to Egypt eventually led us into centuries of slavery, but didn't quell our desire to maintain our faith, despite the hardships his descendants faced. 

Although our presence in the United Kingdom over the last three and a half centuries is not analogous to the bitter and cruel conditions that faced our ancestors, there is the sad fact that some of our fellow citizens question our legitimacy as equals living in the same country. 

Jewish history is a chronicle of how we settled and were unsettled.  How we donned our hats and coats in the belief that they would remain for a while in situ and how we found ourselves having to wear them sooner than we had envisaged, as we faced a hostile climate.  How we were, in the words of Mendel, 'forced out of many, many places at a moment's notice' and how we, like the Maccabees, didn't give in when given a chance, to fight for our legitimacy as equal citizens of the countries in which we resided.

Jacob eventually settled in Egypt and didn't live to see his descendants returning to Israel, many, many times, leading to the miraculous events that rocked the world in 1948.

Our ancestors settled in England and look what we have achieved, despite the challenges we have faced. We might wear our hats and don our coats, but these days, it's to help protect us from the cold weather - just like everyone else.

Perhaps, we can gain some comfort from the lyrics of the famous song:

‘Grab your coat

Grab your hat, (baby)

Leave your worries on the doorstep

Just direct your feet

On the sunny side of the street’

When it comes to being settled in this country, history has shown us that, despite the will of others, we aren't leaving any time soon.  As always, we hope and pray that sunnier days lie ahead.  May Moshiach bring them speedily!

Shavuah Tov and Chanukah Sameach!

Parashat Vayishlach - Livin' on a (Jewish) Prayer

 For those of us of a certain age, the soundtrack of the 1980s is indelibly embedded into our psyche.  Unlike the 1960s where they say that if ‘you remember it, you weren’t really there’, 1986 was a particularly vintage year in my adolescence.  It was the time of Paul Simon’s Graceland, when you couldn’t go to a party without hearing it on the Hi Fi (remember those?); watching Peter Gabriel’s ‘Sledgehammer’ video with its then state-of-the-art animation and singing one of the greatest rock anthems that ever ruled the airwaves – Bon Jovi’s ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’.

Who can forget the catchy refrain?

Wo’ah, we're halfway there

Wo’ah, livin' on a prayer.

Take my hand, we'll make it I swear

Wo’ah, livin' on a prayer.

Written by Desmond Child, John Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora – once heard, was forever cherished in our hearts and stored in our minds.

When Richie asked Jon whether he thought it would be a hit when he was writing it, John famously replied ’not at all’.  They walked out of the studio where they had just recorded the track and he added, “Eh, it’s okay.  Maybe we should just put it on a movie soundtrack.”  Richie looked at him and said, “You’re an idiot.  It’s really good.” Jon said, “I just don’t know where it’s going. But it didn’t have that boom-boom-boom bassline yet, so it sounded more like The Clash.”

Fortunately, for the rest of us, he was proven wrong, granted that the track was a worldwide hit and in 2013, achieved 3 times Platinum status in countries like the USA (where it hit the number 1 spot, selling 3,400,000 copies to date, of which 3 million are downloads) and in the UK where it sold 1,800,000 copies.  As of July 2022, it has had over 963,000,000 views on YouTube.  Not bad for an ‘OK’ song.  I would hazard a guess that when you consider Bon Jovi’s oeuvre, ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ immediately comes to mind.  No surprise as it is viewed as their signature song.

Jon Bon Jovi was raised in the Catholic faith emanating from an American-Italian family, originally from Sicily.  Although not religious himself, he, along with his co-writers, based the song on some real-life couples (including Richie’s parents) whose life decisions were formulated from their deep-seated faith.  Through thick and thin, the partners remained together and their abiding religious beliefs pulled them through the peaks and troughs that mark our journey through life.

This song comes to mind when I look at the precarious situation that Jacob finds himself in at the start of this week’s Parasha.

He was facing the very real threat that his twin brother, Eisav accompanied by 400 men, would surely exact his violent revenge for what had transpired twenty years previously over the deception of their father.  Jacob, a man of deep faith was troubled by his own previous behaviour, which he feared Gd might punish him for.

As per the commentary in the Artscroll Stone Chumash, Rashi explains the notion that righteous people like Jacob are ‘never sure of themselves’ and that he may have ‘forfeited his right’ to Gd’s protection.  The Midrash adds that Jacob was frightened by the fact that he was frightened.  In other words, his fear might have indicated a lack of faith in Gd in the first place.

He therefore chose a three-pronged approach.

1.    He created two camps, dividing the people travelling together in their human caravan.  He kept his wives and children together so that (according to the Abarbanel) he was able to place them in the rear of one camp accompanied by males, maidservants and cattle so that they could be protected.  Jacob, along with the other people and animals, remained in the first camp so that, should the worst happen and Eisav attacked them, the second camp would be able to flee to safety.

2.    He prayed to Gd and asked to be rescued and allowed to return to Canaan (see Verses 10 to 13).

3.    He sent an extremely generous and lavish gift to Eisav consisting of hundreds of goats, ewes, rams, camels, cows, bulls and donkeys.

Jacob’s life, and those of his loved ones, were in the balance as far as he was concerned.  To survive, he would need to do more than ‘live on a prayer’.  In choosing to formulate this approach, he demonstrated the Jewish way to face an existential threat.

It’s like that old joke, where the man prays to Gd to win the lottery and after forty years without success, cries out bitterly that Gd is not answering his prayers.  Whereupon Hashem visits him in a dream and says, “I’ll meet you halfway but first of all, you have to buy a ticket!”

There is a concept in Judaism called Hishtadlut.

The Midrash  in Shir Hashirim Raba (Song of Songs 1.1) relates the story of a Sage, Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa who saw the residents of his city taking up burnt offerings and peace offerings to the Beit Hamikdash. He wanted to do the same but was quite impoverished and couldn’t afford to buy anything that would be worthy of being donated to the Holy Temple.  Whilst going for a walk one day, he came across a beautiful looking stone which he felt would be fitting for the Temple.  However, it was too heavy for him to pick up.  He tried to enquire how much it would cost to hire some men to carry the stone for him but again, the price quoted, which was 100 gold pieces was prohibitive.  Then, five workers approached and offered to help him lift the stone for the sum of five sela, which was very little. They laid down a single condition.  He too must be involved in the process by placing his hands under the stone to assist them in lifting it up.  He agreed to this, grasped the stone from underneath and looked around to see that they had been transported miraculously to the Temple.  The men however, had disappeared and he was unable to pay them for they had been angels who were sent by Gd to help this pure-hearted man achieve his goal.

The question that we ask is, “If these men were angels in disguise, why did they ask him to put his hands under the stone to lift it?  They could have done the work without him?”  The answer is that, for Hashem to help us, we need to do our bit too.  That is hishtadlut.

Jacob could have placed all his faith in Gd to protect everyone.  That he incorporated his prayers into his general plan of action tells us that prayer, as important as it is, is not enough.     If we want Gd to help us, we must play our part too.  We have to buy that lottery ticket; The IDF needs feet on the ground to protect our holy country.

When we recite the prayer for the State of Israel and Tzahal, we say:

“Put into their hearts the love and fear of You to uphold it (i.e. the country) with justice and righteousness…Heavenly Father: remember the Israel Defence Forces, guardians of our Holy Land.  Protect them from all distress and anguish and send blessings and success to all the work of their hands…’

Judaism recognises that hishtadlut which means ‘human efforts expressing man’s free will’ must work alongside ‘bitachon’ – faith in Gd, in order to ensure that we receive the blessings that we hope he will shower upon us.

Returning to the lyrics of the song, we can relate these to this idea.

With Hishtadlut, we are half-way there.  And if we do our bit, He will help us to ‘live’ on a prayer.

May Hashem continue to answer our prayers and may we endeavour to play our part in bringing about our salvation.  We need to remind him and ourselves that before receiving the Torah at Mount Sinai we were the only nation that pledged to ‘do what He asked of us and listen to His words’ – na’aseh venishmah.  It’s not enough to do without listening to His words.  It’s not enough to listen to His words, without making an effort on our part.  In other words, we are ‘livin’ on a prayer’ whilst simultaneously engaging in Hishtadlut.

It is the perfect partnership and as we’ve seen, through the millennia, it is our proven recipe for survival.

Shavuah Tov