MIKETZ SHABBAT ROSH CHODESH HANNUKAH 5779
SHALL WE FORGET? CAN WE?
December 6, 2018
28 Kislev 5779
For Joseph it was a dream come true. After interpreting Pharaoh's dreams to the monarch's satisfaction, Joseph is appointed viceroy of Egypt, given an Egyptian name and clad in royal garments. He is also married off to Osnat, the daughter of the prestigious and influential High Priest of ON.
The name Joseph chose for his firstborn son, Manasseh expressed gratitude to God who "has enabled me to forget the many hardships both in Egypt and in my father's home" (Genesis 41:51), and there were many hardships. He suffered mightily at the hands of his brothers and then as a slave in Egypt. Does one forget the pain of such trauma? Did he really forget the way his brothers treated him? Was the bitter memory of his first 13 years in Egypt wiped away without a trace of recollection? It seems unlikely.
In life we tend to remember even small hurts, how much more so the events that literally change the course of our lives? Thus despite the name Joseph bestowed on his son, I find it hard to believe that he forgot the events of his past. As the saying goes "what goes around, comes around." The arrival of his brothers in Egypt to purchase grain during the famine enabled Joseph to toy with them. The three days that he wallowed in the pit to which they had cast him, their enmity and jealousy were always there. He did not forget – he could not forget
Nor did his brothers forget their heinous act. Deeply imprinted in their memories and in their conscience was their intended act of fratricide, the sale to the Ishmaelites and the lies they told to their father. If nothing else, Jacob's incessant mourning for Joseph was an ongoing reminder of their sins.
Thus, Joseph didn't forget and neither did his brothers. The Torah captures this human reality when following Jacob's death; the brothers are concerned that Joseph would now avenge himself of the manner in which they so harshly treated him. Joseph allays their fear by saying I am not God; It was He who sent me to Egypt to provide for you in this land. This was a succinct way to remind his brothers, you sought to harm me, but God had other plans for me. He and they hardly forgot.
It's because we don't forget that we are beckoned to return time and again to teshuvah (repentance) to acknowledge our moral failures followed by an expression of determination to live a more morally acceptable life.
Even as there are unforgettable personal memories, there are the unforgettable historical ones. Our tradition that continually reminds us that our ancestors were slaves in Egypt, calls upon us to continually nurture the memory of other historical events.
We observe Hannukah not only to remember the Maccabee's military victory, but more significantly the commitment to purify the Temple that had been defiled by the hated Syrians. For eight successive nights we light our menorahs as a reminder that the greater threat to our national survival is the abandonment of our sacred rites and traditions. It's a formidable challenge to resist the blandishments of Hellenism and Christianity. Yes, there were, and continue to be, Jews who converted and Jews who assimilated, but we survive as a people by refusing to forget that it is in our hands never to let the light – the light of Torah, the light of faith, the light of our moral teachings – to go out. I suspect that's why even non-observant American Jews confronted with the beauty of Christmas have dug into observing our winter holiday of lights. It reflects a determination not to let our light be completely extinguished.
To my mind Joseph, when bestowing the name on his first born, should have affirmed that he would never forget while giving thanks to God for the strength and the Divine guidance that enabled him to build a new life despite the sad events in his past.
May we following the inevitable dark moments in our own lives, be blessed with the faith and courage to build and rebuild. May we never let our personal lights ever go out.
—
From the holy city of Jerusalem my best wishes for a Shabbat Shalom u'Mevorach, a Shabbat of peace and blessing and a good month and an ongoing joyous celebration of Hannukah, our Festival of Lights.
Rabbi Arnold M Goodman
VAYESHEV HANNUKAH 5779
DESPITE OUR VERY BEST INTENTIONS
November 29, 2018
21 Kislev 5779
When Joseph appeared before his brothers, they tore his coat of many colors off his back and fratricide was very much in the air. Reuben, the eldest of the brothers, sought to temper their fury, "Shed no blood" he counseled. "Cast him into that pit out in the wilderness, but do not touch him yourselves." His intent was to save Joseph and to "restore him to his father" (Genesis 37: 22).
Reuben did manage to slip away from his brothers and find his way to the pit only to discover that he was too late. In his absence the brothers had raised Joseph from the pit and sold him to a band of Ishmaelites who ultimately carried him to Egypt.
How should we view Reuben's behavior? He was aware that he was a minority of one among his brothers who were intent upon fratricide. His strategy was to buy time with his suggestion to throw Joseph into a pit, and he would then return to free him and bring him back to Jacob.
The Torah clearly records Reuben's good intention, but a Midrash damns him with faint praise. It contends that had Reuben the foreknowledge of the credit the Torah would give him for just his good intention; he would have openly defied his brothers, and literally carried Joseph home on his shoulder.
To his credit it was Reuben's suggestion that created the space for the anger of the brothers to abate. Thus rather than shed Joseph's blood, they sold him to the band of Ishmaelites who sold him into slavery in Egypt. Reuben's intention to save Joseph, however, was never realized. We sympathize with his desperation and frustration, upon learning that while he was surreptiously making plans to raise Joseph from the pit, the brothers had sold him to the Ishmaelites. We understand his painful reaction, "the boy is gone, now what am I to do?" (ibid 37:30) Reuben was rightfully frustrated that despite his very good intentions, he failed to accomplish his mission to bring Joseph home.
Contrast this with the response of Mattathias and his sons who bristled at Antiochus' edicts of political oppression and religious suppression. Rebellion was in the air and it began when Mattathias slew a Syrian officer and a Jew as they engaged in a pagan rite of slaughtering a hog, and then called out, "all who are for the Lord follow me."
A significant number of Judeans aware that good intentions alone could not end Syrian domination seized the moment to join in the rebellion that led to the great victory and the subsequent rededication of the Temple that we celebrate during Hanukkah.
We all have good intentions in our commitment to our relationships as children, parents, siblings and friends. We desire to make the world a better place. We sense we would like to deepen the quality of our Jewish lives. We are also aware that time and again we fail to follow through with positive action. The road of our lives is paved with many many unfulfilled good intentions.
When we have the intent to extend ourselves to do what we believe is the right thing, it's helpful to keep in mind the teaching of the Quaker Etienne de (Steven) Grellet (1773-1855), "I shall pass this way but once; any good that I can do or any kindness I can show to any human being; let me do it now. Let me not defer nor neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again."
It's more than good advice; it's a formidable challenge to each of us to transform good intentions into concrete and positive action.
—
From the holy city of Jerusalem my best wishes for a Shabbat Shalom u'Mevorach, a Shabbat of peace and blessing and a joyous celebration of Hannukah, our Festival of Lights.
Rabbi Arnold M Goodman
