Parashat Vayechi - Converging Paths

 רפואה מן התורה
Healing from the Torah

Parashat Vayechi

Genesis 47:28-50:26

By Rabbi Adam Ruditsky 

     This week we not only conclude the saga of Joseph but we also finish the book of Genesis.  Likewise while we end with the story of one particular family we begin a new story of one particular people.  What we also find is that Genesis ends, humanly speaking, the same way it began by standing on the pillars of love and fear. When Adam and Eve became fearful at their nakedness God’s love provided through the creation the fig leaf’s to cover them up, hence we pray daily as our reminder of provision, “Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe, Who, מַלְבִּישׁ עֲרֻמִּים (malbeesh ah’roomim), clothes the naked.”  In the same way, after the death of their father Jacob the siblings of Joseph are fearful that their brother will exact his revenge although he has done his best to show his brothers love with the tears of forgiveness.  Love and fear are powerful emotions that are not only book ends to the entire Genesis story but going forward are encountered over and over again.  I think with all that is going right now specifically with regards to this virus there is a great deal of fear that owns many of us, not that we should not be smart and recognize the gravity of the situation, feeling deeply for those who have been directly impacted or have died because of it, but if fear leads instead of love it will create other problems that a vaccine cannot help.  Looking at this week’s Torah sidrah (reading order), Parashat Vayechi, I see the converging paths of love and fear as well.
     We can see them in the lives of  Jacob and Joseph but also Judah, and while all different stories, they are supported by the same pillars.  Jacob after leaving home as a wild child learned some tough lessons along the way about the good and bad of human nature only to be lied to regarding the fictious death of his child.  After learning 22 years later that his son was still alive he comes to Egypt and lives another 17 years in joy, comfort and honor before he peacefully dies in the presence of all his children and their families.  Jacob is the voice of the tomorrow, Ibn Ezra teaching דִבֵּר הַנָבִיא לָעַתִיד, “the word of the prophet of the future,” the final patriarch who carries the name of Israel as part of his identity, speaking words of blessing and wisdom.  Joseph, the unwieldy teenager that lacked wisdom who was rejected by his brothers and falsely accused, being sent to prison as a slave before becoming the recipient of providence, showered with power, wealth and ultimately a restored family.  But let’s keep it in mind that when faced with his own pit of emotions upon seeing his brothers again Joseph chose to raise above the human need for revenge and treated them well, electing to be a blessing to his siblings, which is why he is called a tzedek, a righteous one.  Then there was Judah, the 4^th eldest son who participated in the ruse to tell their father that his son Joseph died because of their hate for him.  But Judah would become a symbol of strength and humility, followed by his brothers.  In Targum Yonathan and in the Pseudepigraphal Book of Jubilees we learn that when Judah made his confession regarding Tamar (see Genesis 38) his stock rose in the eyes of those around him, being confirmed in the blessing he received from his father Jacob that said, “יְהוּדָ֗ה אַתָּה֙ יוֹד֣וּךָ אַחֶ֔יךָ יָדְךָ֖, “your brothers shall praise you.”  Each seemed to reach a happy conclusion in life.
     In this parsha we also note that all three die relatively close to one another.  Here, while the deaths of Jacob (Genesis 49:33) and Joseph (Genesis 50:26) are recorded in Torah itself, the death of Judah is recorded in the Midrashic Book of Yashar.  Why?  Judah was blessed by his father as the one whose seed would produce Israel’s monarchy and eventually the Messiah according to tradition, something that you might think would have been important enough to record Judah’s death.  Maybe Judah’s death is not mentioned because we supposed to learn from his life?  Judah is not directly a part of the story until his sin with Tamar (Genesis 38), also becoming a major voice as the spokesman for his brothers before Joseph (Genesis44:16) as well as intervening for his brother Benjamin (Genesis 44:33-34), showing us that t’shuvah (repentance) and hitchad’shut (renewal) are achievable.  But we also learn that his confession and courage is embraced not only by his brothers, but later generations who say,כִּי יְהוּדָה גָּבַר בְּאֶחָיו לְנָגִיד מִמֶּנּוּ, “Judah became more powerful than his brothers and a leader came from him” (1 Chronicles 5:2).  Rabbi David Kimchi teaches that Judah became more powerful over Jacob’s firstborn Reuven, perhaps because of his ineffectiveness to save his brother Joseph (see Genesis 37:21-22) unlike Judah who literally became his brother’s keeper by advocating for Benjamin, the Sfrono writing therefore of Judah, “you are the one who is fit to fill the position of royalty.” But as Zohar teaches this blessing will only be fulfilled in generations to come, summoning the words of Talmud that says, “May it be God’s will that your offspring be like you” (Ta'anit 6a), Rashi connecting Judah’s scepter of royalty to King David and his seed.
     Yet even though Judah received such merit he became caught up in the fear of his brothers after the death of their father Jacob, saying amongst themselves, “What if Joseph still bears a grudge against us and pays us back for all the wrong that we did him” (Genesis 50:15).  After Joseph weeps yet again with the regret that his love is just not good enough to assure them, he says “Have no fear! (אַל-תִּירָאו, al ti’rahoo) Am I a substitute for God?”  Joseph also says, “what you meant evil against me; God meant it for good” (Genesis 50:20), which we can interpret to mean that living in fear (which caused evil acts) only robbed them of the goodness of love instead (the blessings of life).  Elisabeth Kübler-Ross notes that love breeds positive emotions like joy, peace, and satisfaction whereas fear breeds negative emotions like anger, guilt, and sadness.  We also pray daily, “Blessed are You, Adonai our God, King of the Universe, Who מַתִּיר אֲסוּרִים (ma’tir a’soo’rim), releases the imprisoned.”  Fear is a part of life and awakens courage, but the power of fear is something that we must be released from since it is not disposable or seemingly will just disappear, only then allowing the seeker to call and relay upon the goodness of love.  Each of us are at different stages in life and have our own narrative, but what we learn from Judah is that when love and faith converge, even if on the outside we seem to have everything, it is always better to be led by the energies of love as opposed to the voices of fear.  As we end Genesis we say, Chazak, chazak, v'nitchazeik, which means "Be strong, be strong, and we will strengthen one another," in this case by our love for each other.       

Shabbat Shalom  

Parashat Vayigash - Finders Keepers

 רפואה מן התורה
Healing from the Torah

Parashat Vayigash

Genesis 44:8-47:27

By Rabbi Adam Ruditsky 

     Ethel was a spry and feisty 98 year old woman from the Bronx.  I visited Ethel weekly for almost a year, and when she finally died I would say we had become friends. What began as general visitation turned into talking about seemingly every subject under the sun, such as family, politics, careers, sports, Judaism, her journey of getting old, which lead into a conversation about regrets and her need for reconciliation before, as she put it, “I am too dead to dance!”  When I asked her about her desire for reconciliation without going into any detail she said, “you know, it’s always family.”  Well, one Monday morning I received a phone call from my office to go and visit Ethel at the request of her son, which I thought was strange because Ethel and I see each other on Fridays.  When I arrived Ethel was in her bed (she always sat in her big armchair), her breathing was labored, her hands clenched tightly and the skin on her forehead wrinkled.  After some initial time that included the vidui prayer (confessional) and my listening to her son share his thoughts I interjected, “Mike, do you have anything you need to say to your mom before she dies?”  With that, Mike leaned over and whispered something into his mom’s ear for what seemed like forever, then with tears running down his face he kissed his mom on her cheek and backed away.  I did not say anything but put my hand on Mike’s shoulder and cried with him.  But then, after a few moments had passed, Ethel’s labored breathing became effortless and her clenched hands slowly opened revealing her palms as the skin on her forehead turned as smooth as a baby, it was really amazing to watch.  It must have been no more than another 5 minutes before Ethel just stopped breathing, finding what she needed to ultimately let go.
     Before driving away from the facility I sat in my car and reflected on what had just happened, realizing that my year of visits with her was over and that I lost a friend in a person that I had come to greatly value.  But I also reflected on Mike who lost his mom after having some type of reconciliation with her, while at the same time Ethel died in peace, her need for resolution over “you know, it’s always family” seems to taken place right before my eyes.  Now, although this part of Genesis is more so focused on Joseph, here in Parashat Vayigash, Jacob is once again intertwined into the larger story, and as with Ethel, speaks to “you know, it’s always family.”  Still, while we do not read about the end of Jacob’s life until next week, the ground-work for it begins this week.  As such, we last heard from Jacob in Genesis 37:35 when he was told that his son Joseph was dead, responding to this news “he refused to be comforted” by his family, vowing that he would “go down to the grave” mourning his son Joseph, and Jacob “wept for him.”  For the next 22 years Jacob was a prisoner to his grief and his pain, living what Rabbi Raphael Samson Hirsch calls a “dull monotonous life,” having no aim or purpose.  Then one day Jacob is approached by his sons who after returning from Egypt in search of grain say to their father in an almost a matter-of-fact way, יוֹסֵ֣ף חַ֔י וְכִֽי־ה֥וּא מֹשֵׁ֖ל בְּכָל־אֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרָ֑יִם, “Joseph is still alive; yes, he is ruler over the whole land of Egypt.” Jacob responds precisely like you think he might.  Cognitively his reaction is, כִּ֥י לֹא־הֶאֱמִ֖ין לָהֶֽם, “for he did not believe them,” but emotionally he responds, וַיָּ֣פָג לִבּ֔וֹ, “His heart went numb,” whereas spiritually it took a divine intervention from God who said to Jacob, “I Myself will go down with you to Egypt, and I Myself will also bring you back; and Joseph’s hand shall close your eyes,” what a beautiful picture of his son being there when he finally dies.  Reacting in his chaotic excitement Jacob says, בְּנִ֖י חָ֑י אֵֽלְכָ֥ה וְאֶרְאֶ֖נּוּ בְּטֶ֥רֶם אָמֽוּת, “My son Joseph is still alive! I must go and see him before I die.” Once that was Jacob’s mindset all bets were off, so he proclaimed per Ibn Ezra, רַב לִי זֹאת הַשָׂמֵחַה, “I am very Happy!”
     When Jacob came face to face (Vayigash, he approached) with Joseph after all those years we read in a Midrash,  “When my sons came to me, and told me that Joseph was dead, I cried out: ‘I am destined to die twice,’ but now that I see that you are alive, I am assured that I did not die, but only now will I die.” Hence he said: Now let me die” (Midrash Tanchuma, Vayigash 9:2).  It seems odd to me that he did not say “It is good to see you” or “I love you,” but only “Now let me die, since I have seen your face, that you are yet alive”  (Genesis 46:29).  Rashi interprets Jacobs words as “I had thought that I would die two deaths, in this world and also in the world to come, because the Divine Presence departed from me and I therefore thought that God would hold me responsible for your death. Now, since you are alive I will die only once, in this world” (Rashi on Genesis 46:29).  R’Hirsch sees Jacob’s response as a phrase of jubilation as he “felt himself at the zenith of possible happiness” and was now ready to end his life content with self-forgiveness real or imagined.  But for Avivah Gottlieb Zornberg it was more specific and in that moment of meeting “the anxiety that would not let Jacob die in peace” departed.  Not being able to resolve the pain of losing Joseph was like a death, hence dying twice, but knowing his son was alive made it that when the time comes to die, he was now ready.
     I never found out what took place between Ethel and Mike.  Yet on one hand whatever took place allowed her to die in peace, while on the other hand it was also a reminder to me that peace is much more than an end of life thing, or even yearly at Passover as we reflect on what keeps us “enslaved.”  Peace is a daily gift, for me expressed most meaningfully in the prayers called the Nessim shel Hayom (miracles of the day), or traditionally referred to as the Birkat HaShachar (morning blessings), a set 15 blessings that begin each day.  Of those blessings the one that I am still learning how to internalize and wrap by head around is, בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְהֹוָה אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם שֶׁעָשַׂנִי בֶּן חוֹרִין, which means; “Blessed are you Lord our God sovereign for the universe for making me to be free.”  It would be another 17 years before Jacob dies, and for me and you, who knows if it can be tomorrow or 30 years from now (if not more), but we do not have to wait for our death to be free of an unduly cluttered mind, emotions or spirit, which is why our mindfulness to Torah is so valuable.  Today, with this virus controlling our society, many of us feel like prisoners, isolated from loved ones and friends, our physical situation has caused many to lose a sense of personal freedom.  Freedom is elusive but attainable, something that we need to find and then keep guarded because it is precious.  There is much we can learn from this parsha, but I was reminded how free Ethel looked when she breathed her last breath as it made me also recall how free she was to live before she died.  For us freedom is something that we may never obtain the way we want, but neither are we at liberty to neglect searching for it (Perkei Avot 2:16).

Shabbat Shalom

Parashat Miketz - The Pit

רפואה מן התורה
Healing from the Torah

Parashat Miketz 

Genesis 44:1-44:17

By Rabbi Adam Ruditsky 

     Although I have many teachers. I’d say my two greatest teachers have been life and death.  Each though is like a pit, however.  The pit of life teaches me to be thankful for what I have, learning to let the ebb and flow of the good and the bad, the seen and the unseen, the expected and unexpected to teach me lessons that only life and its imperfections can produce.  The pit of death has taught me to appreciate those around me, seeing the beauty in another even if I encounter beauty differently, recognizing that sometimes it takes the absence of one to see the other.  But the pit of death has also taught me how that the power of regret and anger or guilt and fear (to name a few) can leave behind a residue that infiltrates the pit of life, keeping me if unaware with the sakes and scorpions that meander on the bottom.  For me, the reality of the pit either adds to my life or it keeps me a prisoner to my past that endeavors to siphon away the future which in the end will include my departure from one existence to the next.
     Regarding Joseph, who we began reading about last week, he also had such an experience, where the darkness of his days in a pit appear to end this week.  In Talmud, Tractate Shabbat, Joseph and Hanukkah are connected although at first glance appear as strange bed fellows.  In short, while Rashi says that the pit was empty of water it also contained snakes and scorpions, the Abarbanel disagreeing based on the fact that Reuven who intervened to save his brother would have never approved of such a tactic.  What made Joseph and Hanukkah connected according according to Talmud was the measurement of “twenty cubits,” or 30 feet.  If any lower you could not see the dangers of the pit, but if the Hanukkah menorah was any higher it could not be clearly seen.  With Hanukkah the lights glimmered in the darkness and for Joseph he emerged from the darkness of the pit, each its own miracle and perhaps why they coincide yearly.
     The parsha itself is basically divided into two stories; Joseph interpreting Pharaoh’s dreams and Joseph’s initial encounter with his brothers.  The dreams spoke to the abundance of today and the needs for tomorrow regarding provision and lack.  The first dream was about seven beautiful cows and seven emaciated cows, the latter eventually consuming the former.  The second was of seven healthy ears of corn and seven rotten ones, the latter causing the former ones to lose their health.  The interpretation was that there would be seven years of plenty followed by seven years of famine where the nation and the known world would have nothing.  Pharaoh then elevates Joseph from a mere Hebrew slave in jail to the second most powerful person to oversee this potential world crisis, thus Pharaoh said to him; “I am Pharaoh; yet without you, no one shall lift up hand or foot in all the land of Egypt” (Genesis41:44).
     But toward the end of the first story and before the second the redactor of Torah inserts a few verses about the birth of Joseph’s two sons, Manasseh and Ephraim, which seems to come out of nowhere, although it is really setting up Joseph’s encounter with his brothers (see Genesis 41:50-52).  While Rashi teaches, based on a Midrash (Bereishit Rabbah 34:7), that this info about the births was merely technical since according to Jewish law marital relations are forbidden during a famine, Rabbi Raphael Samson Hirsch says this highlights the fact that a Hebrew slave is the mentioned parent as opposed to his Egyptian wife Asenat, honoring the rise and person of Joseph. But Avivah Gottlieb Zornberg goes another way with this brief story. Zornberg ties Joseph’s physic-social, or behavior, to the names of his children and his past.  Manasseh, which means “God has made me forget completely my hardship and my parental home,” in its Midrashic sense is connected to “Torah learning” that for Zornberg relates to Joseph’s “native culture,” or connection to his family upbringing.  Ephraim is about Joseph’s “survival,” which celebrates his ascent as a ruler from his “terror of great darkness” that fueled his plight of injustice (from his brothers or falsely accused by Potiphar’s wife).  Nachum Sarna also teaches that the experiences that drove Joseph’s desire to name Manasseh is tied into his experiences of being raised in Canaan while Ephraim is a word play of the word,הִפְרַ֥נִי, hifrani,  which means “fertile,” Joseph seeing Ephraim as a gain from a doomed past, or a “blessing of abundant prosperity.”  Zornberg links this gain to “gratitude,” thus the word for forget, נַשַּׁנִי (nash’shani), not only means to “forget” but also “credit,” Robert Alter translating the meaning of Manasseh as “God has released me from all the debt of my hardship,” ultimately meaning that the two sons were like a credit gained from the past more so than simply forgetting it.  But Joseph will learn that being grateful for the future without a past would be like not looking beyond the plenty of today without preparing for the famine of tomorrow.
     The truth is that Joseph found himself in the pit of rejection when his brothers turned on him. He also found himself in the pit of injustice after being thrown into jail for something that he did not do.  But now Joseph was in another type of pit, the pit of an emotional prison, embracing his new future while seeking to extinguish the past, entering a pit that was much deeper than he realized.  According to Sarna Joseph’s “physical, social and psychological security” allowed him to “forget his miserable unhappy” past with great bravado.  Yet, once the seven years of plenty had passed the famine overtook the world, and in the same way after nine years of Joseph being in command he encountered his own emotional famine at the arrival of his brothers.  When Joseph first saw his brothers after 22 years his initial reaction was to recall his dreams (see Genesis 42:8), Rashi making the observation that this recall was aroused when they bowed before him as opposed to being part of his current thoughts (see Rashi on Genesis 42:8).  Likewise, although the Sfrono teaches that his brothers in that moment made the dreams come alive it became a reminder on a profound level that Joseph would take on the role as a redeemer that caused him to think hard about how he would react.  Regardless, appealing again to Sarna, Joseph was “caught in a maelstrom of emotions,” the brothers bowing before him did not remind him of his rulership and current meaningful purpose, but instead his “sense of contentment is shaken by unpleasant memories.”
     Pirkei Avot 3:1 teaches, “Know from where you come, and where you are going, and before whom you are destined to give an account and reckoning,” words of wisdom that we can apply to Joseph’s struggle.  He did not only want to forget where he came from and focus solely on where he was going, but in giving account both to himself and his greater values in God, he came to realize that the better choice was to not allow the pain of the past to have power over his choices for the future.  In the end his personal pit taught Joseph that if he stayed in it he remained stuck, and although by deed as opposed to words, Joseph rose above his past to honor the future by making sure his brothers got the grain they sought instead of the revenge they may have deserved.  The pit provides value or is nothing but a sieve.  The pits of life, and death, are inevitable, how they are encountered are determined by each of us, the Torah teaches to be wise in choosing.

Shabbat Shalom

Parashat Vayeishev - Beyond Hanukkah

רפואה מן התורה
Healing from the Torah

Parashat Yayeishev 

Genesis 37:1-40:23
By Rabbi Adam Ruditsky

     This week on Thursday night we begin our celebration of Hanukkah.  In the second century BCE, the Holy Land was ruled by the Seleucids (Syrian-Greeks), who tried to force the people of Israel to accept Greek culture and beliefs instead of mitzvah observance and belief in God. Against all odds, a small band of faithful but poorly armed Jews, led by Judah the Maccabee, defeated one of the mightiest armies on earth, drove the Greeks from the land, reclaimed the Holy Temple in Jerusalem and rededicated it to the service of God.  We then learn in Talmud, Shabbat 21b, that Hanukkah candles are lit for eight days once the Maccabees discovered the remaining ritual olive oil that lasted till it was resupplied after those same eight days, hence, "Nes (נ) Gadol (ג) Haya (ה) Sham (ש)," meaning "a great miracle happened there," there being the Temple in Jerusalem.
     Regarding miracles, how does the Jewish, or human eyes see them today?  Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev wrote that there were two different type of miracles, למעלה מהטבע, those that are “supernatural,”  and בתוך הטבע, those that are within “the domain of nature.”  Those that are “supernatural” (l’malah mahatevah), the Berditchever Rabbi tells us, are like the miracles of Egypt when God intervened for the Hebrews freedom, whereas those that happened “within nature” (b’toch hatevah) are like Hanukkah.  In this case the miracles of Hanukkah are of nature because the Hasmonean battle for their liberation took place between them and the Seleucids. If it were supernatural then the intervention between God and another would be the roots of the Hanukkah miracle.  Still the miracle for the Berditchever Rabbi was understood as God’s design for this small band of priests to incite a group of people to fight for the rededication of the Holy Temple.
     Miracles within “the domain of nature” are part of our daily prayers.  Each morning when we rise before we even get out of bed we say, “I give thanks to You O living God for You have restored my soul with mercy. Great is Your faithfulness,” acknowledging the miracle of being able to live another day, the heavenly neshoma (soul) is restored to us daily.  During morning prayers we recite what traditionally is called the Birkot HaShachar (lit. Blessings of the Morning), a set of blessings thanking God that we got up, all our functions are working and we are grateful, not taking for granted what comes to us a new each day.  However, in the Reform Siddur the Birkot HaShachar are called the Nissim B’col Yom, which means “miracles of the day.”  I think the Reform got it right by looking at our natural functions and seeing the Divine hand in them, seeing their partnership as miracles that happen within “the domain of nature.”  In this week’s parsha is it fair to ask if there are hidden miracles that are happening within nature that have to be looked for as opposed to being obvious?  Can we look at Joseph being thrown into the pit by his brothers and then him being put in the pit of prison like a day’s worth of oil that burned for eight days?
      A prominent Jewish voice today, Nachum Sarna, writes that in the episode between Joseph and Potiphar’s wife the hand (or mystery) of God is at work.  A reminder, Joseph was a valued servant who took care of all the affairs of his masters Potiphar’s home, only to be actively pursued by Potiphar’s wife who wants him to have sexual relations with him, surely as she wanted with other slaves before him.  While it says in Torah that this occurred, yom yom, or daily, tradition says that this went on for twelve months (The Abarbanel on Genesis 39:10).  In the end, Joseph withstood her pursuit and any pressure, eventually escaping her grasp, unfortunately she claimed that Joseph attacked her which resulted in him being unjustly thrown in the kings jail instead of being executed (seeTargum Yonatan on Genesis 39:20).  Yet, Sarna sees the bigger picture as well as the personal miracle of Joseph’s victory of his inner conviction.  Sarna makes the claim that Joseph’s ability to rebuff Potiphar’s wife was based on a social stigma that would come from the “violation of confidence,” placed upon him by Potiphar as his slave, “and a sin against God.”  We read in the 10 Words (commandments),לֹא-תַחְמֹד אֵשֶׁת רֵעֶךָ (lo tachmod ay’shet ray’ehcha), “do not covet you neighbor’s wife,” or do not comment adultery (Ex. 20:14).  Joseph seems to have understood what the 12th century Rabbi Ibn Ezra said regarding what comes “from that which God apportioned,” and Joseph knew Potiphar’s wife was not his.  Sarna goes on to say that the moral law of God has “universal applications,” meaning to all people alike, and marital morality was not exclusive to just Jews, it was embedded within the moral convictions off all humanity since all people are created in the image of God, or B’tzelem Elohim.
     Sarna would further say that Joseph’s “moral excellence” was God given, meaning that “the sanction of morality is divine, not social, and the reason this morality is absolute and not relative.”  While it was obvious that Potiphar’s wife was not concerned about Joseph’s moral conviction, again using Sarna’ words, since “her tactic is to wear down his [Joseph] resistance by her relentless importuning.”  Likewise, what might be revealed in nature must be nurtured as well, Joseph had to act on his conviction just not believe it.  As such, regarding how Joseph understood things Sarna ultimately suggests that Joseph is “the unconscious instrument of God’s providence and his behavior in the face of temptation demonstrated his worthiness for that role.”  The Kabbalists when they think of the war between the Maccabees and the Greeks in the Hanukkah story think of the inner war within a person between the good and bad, the yetzer hara and yetzer hatov.  Joseph fought and internal war of moral conviction that flew in the face of any sexual promiscuity that might have existed in other slaves, it was no small feet that Joseph resisted Potiphar’s wife, itself a miracle to be celebrated. 
     So, I think we can look at what Joseph did here as, neis b’toch hatevah, a miracle in the midst of the domain of nature.  But there is another way to undetand nature here and that is human nature. Human nature for Joseph might have recklessly sought personal gain. but his divinely fashioned nature reached for a higher way of being.  Are we fashioned with a “moral excellence,” well Jewish tradition would think so, the ways of rightness as taught in Torah are embedded within our spiritual DNA, the same Torah that guided Joseph’s moral choices (Midrash Gen. R. 1:4).  This is a miracle, where "in process" rededicated human nature, aspires to fight against life’s temptations.  Hanukkah is asking us to rededicate our lives, a rededication to the higher values we seek no matter where each of us fall on the religious spectrum, driven by mitzvot, social justice or tikkun olam, perhaps all three, not to mention the light of those who have left us that continue to burn brightly to inspire us.  Moral conviction is not a miracle alone, the greater miracle is that it can be acted upon.  That is what Torah teaches; that is what we saw in Joseph; in the end this is what these eight days reminds us of, a Nes (נ) Gadol (ג) Haya (ה) po (פ)," a “great miracle happened here" today and just not with the Holy Temple many years ago.  This holiday that celebrates the victory of the Hasmonean Priests led by Judah the Maccabee is not just about the the miracle of lights and goes beyond Hanukkah. 

Chag Chanukkah Sameach and Shabbat Shalom

Parashat Vayishlach - Sent out only to Return

 רפואה מן התורה
Healing from the Torah

Parashat Yayishlach 

Genesis 32:4-36:43
By Rabbi Adam Ruditsky

     This parsha could have easily been called Yayashuv as opposed to Yayishlach. Yayashuv, וַיְשׁוּב, “he returned,” is when Jacob came back to his father’s home after leaving there many years earlier, his mother Rivka encouraging him to get out when he stole from his bother Esau and disappointed his father Isaac (Genesis 27:22).  Last week in Yayeitzei after Jacob had his dream where God promised him that he would meet his needs, in response Jacob also said, “I will come back to my father's house in peace, then will the LORD be my God,” something that happened after he lived much life (Genesis 28:21).  Even more so since Isaac lived in Beersheba when Jacob left home (Genesis 28:10) and now lived some 25 miles in Hebron (Genesis 35:27), was it really about Jacob returning to a physical location or was it about his family?  Still, during that time away Jacob would amass many children, herds and possessions, yet he also would learn some important lessons.  In this parsha we can learn from Torah that a person cannot bypass the journey in order to get to their destination.  For Jacob, his destination was to return to his father’s home different than how he left, he just did not know it at that time.
     Prior to meeting his brother Esau, Jacob sends (וַיִשְׁלַח, Yayishlach) before him angels in anticipation of their meeting.  Jacob has not seen his brother for over 20 years since he manipulated away Esau’s blessing from their father, which meant more to him than just a bowl of stew.  Jacob is fearful that Esau may plan to “come and strike” when they meet and once again and turns to his God for more than just basic provisions, saying, “rescue me, please from the hand of my brother” (Genesis 32:11).  As such Jacob formulates a plan not only to give gifts of appeasement to his brother, but also to split all that he has into two camps,  so if one is attacked the other will survive to secure both his legacy and the continuation of God’ promise for a land and descendants to the Jewish people.  At this point Jacob has an encounter, which like the initial dream regarding the angels, is about God’s presence in Jacob’s affairs.  According to Midrash this “man” who came to wrestle with Jacob in response to his fear was just not any angel, but Rashi teaches that in particular it “was the ministering angel of Esau” (see Rashi on Genesis 32:25, Genesis Rabbah 77:3).  Although I am confident that Jacob did not know it in that moment, in some strange way he needed to defeat Esau once again, although this time it was not about a blessing of sibling rivalry, but overcoming the fear of his brother that was owning him.  This man/angel came and wrestled with Jacob but could not defeat him.  While Jacob’s “hip-socket” was damaged it just seemed to make Jacob even more determined for victory, only letting go of the angel if ultimately he received a blessing.  This blessing for the 12^th century Rabbi, the Rashbam, was a sign that they would part in peace, which may have been a precursor to Jacob’s desire for peace when he meets Esau.  But the blessing itself is a mere name change, the man telling Jacob, “your name will be called no more Jacob, but Israel; for you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed” (Genesis 32:29).
     Later on in this parsha once again Jacob is told, “your name is Jacob: your name will not be called Jacob anymore, but Israel will be your name'; and He called his name Israel” (Genesis35:10).  Why a second time?  Rabbi David Kimchi suggests that the second time God appeared to Jacob is because it was on the soil of the Holy Land as opposed to the angel he wrestled, so “yet again” refers to the dream about the angels in Genesis 28:13 that also took place on the soil of the Holy land (see David Kimchi on Genesis 35:9).  Rashi teaches “that the second time at this spot: once when he set out on his journey, once when he returned” was about the beginning and the end of Jacob’s travels from home and back (see Rashi on Genesis 35:9).  Nachum Sarna, in the JPS commentary on Genesis, posits that the first time was about the character of Jacob that was “unsavory” so he became Israel, which means being “straight with God,” reflecting for me the words of Pirkei Avot 2:1 that says “which is the straight path that a person should choose for oneself?”  The first time asked Jacob to make a choice about what type of man he wanted to be whereas the second time reminded Jacob that his name change was about a bigger national promise that was first uttered to his grandfather, Abraham.
     Jacob’s name change, his journey and return, all have something in common.  When Jacob left his father’s home he ultimately returned to his father’s land, beginning his journey in one place and coming back to another, departing with one name and returning with a new one.  Last week I suggested, based on the teaching of Avivah Gottlieb Zornberg, that one of the ways God would protect Jacob was by bestowing upon him wisdom as he walked through life.  Wisdom is a funny thing because it cannot be bought or hijacked.  There is a Buddhist saying, “Drop by drop is the water pot filled. Likewise, the wise man, gathering it little by little, fills himself with good,” meaning that wisdom is a process that is garnished with time, effort, and patience.  In this parsha Jacob learned wisdom out of his own fear with Esau, a wisdom that echoes the words of Isaiah28:19 that says, “and in that day … the eyes of the blind will see out of obscurity and out of darkness.”  Rav Abraham Isaac Kook calls fear “a “mystery of life,” teaching that the wisdom of Torah illuminates the “supernatural light” of God, which like a seed “needs considerable watering from the fountain of higher knowledge.”  It was through his learned wisdom that Jacob was able to say to Esau, “I have seen your face, as one sees the face of God,”  meaning that on the other side of his fear he saw his brother just like himself, a son of Isaac, a family man, a man who is B’zelem Elohim, fashioned in the likeness of the Divine, and therefore worthy of respect (See Targum Jonathan on Genesis33:10).
     How then did Jacob differ upon his return to his father’s land as opposed to when he left?  In Genesis 31:3 Jacob is told to return home after he left at his mother’s command to escape his brother, unlike his Grandfather who was told by God to “go forth” (Genesis 12:1).  Rabbi Jeffrey Rubenstein, a Jewish Chaplain at Yale University, makes a most astute evaluation about Jacob’s return as a time to “disrupt the patterns in which he was raised,” unhealthy models of behavior that required change.  After playing his mother and father against each other, running away from home, the deception by his uncle Laban that cost him years of life, the fear that enveloped him regarding his brother Esau, and of course, the pain of a father who has to come to terms with two of his sons murdering all the men of the Hivvites because one man, Shechem, violated Dinah their sister; life’s challenges became the means of Jacob’s growth.  Upon the return home Jacob showed respect to his father who he had once deceived by joining together with his brother in an act of Kavod HaMet, “honor to the deceased,” by giving his father a proper burial.
     You see, albeit tomorrow, next week, annually or in 20 years, we always come back to where we were yesterday, always changing for the better or we simply stand still going no where.  This parsha, amongst many things, teaches that when we go out it’s not how we leave but how we return.

Shabbat Shalom