Roberto Abraham Scaruffi

Thursday, 2 December 2010


Parashat Mi-ketz

Genesis 41:1–44:17

December 4, 2010 / 27 Kislev 5771
A Taste of Torah
A Commentary by Rabbi Matthew Berkowitz, Director of Israel Programs, JTS
This week’s commentary was written by Dr. Benjamin Sommer, professor of Bible, JTS.
What is Hanukkah really about? There are several answers to a question like this, since the meaning of a holiday or ritual develops and grows over time. I’d like to point out a fascinating tension between two understandings of Hanukkah that becomes clear from examining two popular songs many of us sing after lighting the candles. One is the Hebrew song, Mi yemalleil. The other is the English version of the same song, which, we will see, differs from the original in striking ways.
First, let’s look at the Hebrew:

      Mi yemalleil gevurot Yisra’el
      Otan mi yimneh
      Hein bechol dor
      Yaqum ha-gibbor
      Go’eil ha-‘am
      Shma‘! Ba-yamim ha-heim
             ba-zman ha-zeh!
      Makkabi moshia‘ u-fodeh!
      U-vyameinu kol ‘am Yisra’el
      Yit’acheid yaqum ve-yigga’eil.
      Who will describe the mighty deeds of
             Israel?
      Who can count them?
      See, in every generation
      A hero arises
      Who saves the nation.
      Listen! In those days
             in this season!
      The Maccabee was a savior, a redeemer!
      And in our days, let all the nation Israel
      Unite, rise up, and be saved.

This is clearly a modern text. Our great-great-grandparents never imagined singing anything like it. One crucial character in the Hanukkah story is missing from it: God. In fact, the opening three words in Hebrew are borrowed directly from Psalm 103:2, but the fourth word differs: where the psalm speaks of God’s mighty deeds, our Hanukkah song speaks of Israel’s. Similarly, the words go’eil, moshia‘, and podeh in Jewish liturgy usually refer to God, but here they refer to Judah Maccabee, a human hero. Israel is redeemed in this song not by waiting for God to act but through the boldness of a strong Jewish fighter.
This song is a Zionist anthem, looking back to the Hanukkah story as a blueprint for how, “in our days,” Israel can save itself. By rising up, Jews will unite as a nation, not just as a religious group. And this nation doesn’t consist of scholars and rabbis, tailors and peddlers. It is a group of people who are ready to fight.
How different the English-language version is!
      Who can retell the things that befell us?
      Who can count them?
“The mighty deeds of Israel” have disappeared, replaced by (gevalt!) “The things that befell us.” Instead of the Zionist view of Jewish history, this song returns to what eminent Columbia University historian Salo Wittmayer Baron called “the lachrymose conception of Jewish history”—a history of suffering and scholarship, a history full of tears and Torah. Indeed, tears and Torah were exactly what the Hebrew version of the song didn’t talk about, but in the English version, they reappear: 
The publication and distribution of the JTS Commentary are made possible by a generous grant from Rita Dee and Harold (z”l) Hassenfeld.

Parashat Mi-ketz opens with a pharaoh plagued by two disturbing dreams pregnant with meaning. One involves sickly cattle consuming healthy cattle; the other showcases parched grain consuming abundant grain. Pharaoh seeks a competent interpreter to make sense of his visions and, thankfully, the redeemed cupbearer remembers the talented Hebrew prisoner (a.k.a., Joseph) who successfully interpreted his dream two years earlier. Joseph is summoned by Pharaoh and offers a compelling explanation: Egypt and its surroundings will first be blessed by seven years of plenty and then seven years of devastating famine. In response, Joseph proposes an economic plan to save the country from what would have been certain destruction. So impressed is Pharaoh by his Hebrew servant that he describes Joseph as “a man in whom is the spirit of God . . . a man who is discerning and wise” (Gen. 41:38–39) and places him in second in command over Egypt! How does Pharaoh’s generous compliment give us a window into the person of Joseph?

Professor Ze’ev Falk writes, “One should compare this description to that of Bezalel [the artist and architect of the Tabernacle] and to the ‘redeemer’ from the House of David. Concerning Bezalel it is written: ‘I filled him with the spirit of God, with wisdom, and with insight’ (Exod. 31:3). The building of the Tabernacle is similar to the details of the Egyptian economic plan [to save the country from famine] and in both of the them, the spirit of God is expressed through wisdom and insight . . . It is also similar to the Messiah: ‘a shoot will grow out of the stump of Jesse . . . the spirit of the Lord will alight upon him: a spirit of wisdom and insight . . . ’ (Isa. 11:1–2)—for redemption requires these same qualities” (Falk, Divrei Torah Ad Tumam, 90).
Having matured from his younger years through the injustices committed against him, Joseph now emerges with a sense of clarity and humility. Far from taking his dreams for granted and using them as a source of pride, his visions now become life-giving. The interpretation of Pharaoh’s dream will now be put to constructive ends, saving the land of Egypt and its environs. The power of Joseph is that he brings God into the midst of the looming crisis. To be sure, he attributes his insightful interpretation to God (Gen. 41:25). Moreover, by comparing the description of Joseph to both Bezalel and the Messiah, Ze’ev Falk sharpens our understanding of Joseph (and indeed of all of these characters). Bezalel’s goal is to nurture and build a place of God’s presence—and so too the offshoot of Jesse (the Messiah). Joseph creates his own Tabernacle for God in his life and in the life of Egypt, thereby redeeming a land on the brink of devastation. In so doing, he becomes a shining light in a dark world. May we learn from his example, especially as we kindle the lights of Hanukkah over the coming week.
The publication and distribution of A Taste of Torah are made possible by a generous grant from Sam and Marilee Susi.
Between the Lines–Va-yishlah
Weekly Midrash Learning with Rabbi Andy Shugerman

Genesis 40:23–41:1
The chief cupbearer did not think of Joseph; he forgot him. / At the end of two years’ time, Pharaoh dreamed that he was standing by the Nile …
Genesis Rabbah 89:1 
[object Object]

At the end of two years’ time . . . (Gen. 41:1). [It is written:] He sets bounds for darkness . . . (Job 28:3)—[God] set a definite period of time for the world to spend in darkness. What is the proof? He sets bounds for darkness, [to every limit that a person may probe, to the stones of thick darkness and the shadow of death.] (ibid.) For as long as the Evil Inclination exists in the world, thick darkness and the shadow of death persist in the world; once the Evil Inclination is uprooted from the world, thick darkness and the shadow of death will no longer be in the world.
Another interpretation: He sets bounds for darkness . . . (Job 28:3)—[God] fixed a definite period of time for Joseph to spend in the darkness of prison. When the appointed time came, Pharaoh dreamed a dream that led to Joseph’s release.
During the outreach classes I lead for The Jewish Theological Seminary, I have recently fielded questions about evil and suffering with what seems to be greater frequency each week. Is there a connection between the decreased hours of daylight and my students’ concern about why bad things happen to good people?

Ten years ago, when the winter solstice immediately preceded the first night of Hanukkah, I learned that this week’s Torah portion, Mi-ketz, always coincides with this “festival of lights.” Not until this year, however, did I discover the midrash above, which provides a link between the increased physical darkness experienced by most of world Jewry (and by our ancient Sages) at this time of the year and the spiritual darkness of Joseph’s unjust imprisonment in Egypt. Perhaps our primal fear of nighttime and its dangers triggers other feelings of dread about mortality and suffering.
It is striking, then, to consider the parallels between Joseph and Job suggested in this midrash. Both men innocently suffer due to the jealousy of an adversarial force and afterwards must explain the meaning of this fall from grace. Joseph declares to his brothers that “it was to save life that God sent me ahead of you . . . God has sent me ahead of you to ensure your survival on earth, and to save your lives in an extraordinary deliverance” (Gen. 45:5, 7). No less extraordinary are God’s deliverance of Job from affliction and the protagonist’s response after chapters of protest speeches: “I know that You can do everything, that nothing proposed is impossible for You . . . Indeed, I spoke without understanding of things beyond me, which I did not know” (Job 42:2–3).

Both of these biblical men survived tremendous anguish and somehow regained faith in life, family, and God by finding light after a period of profound darkness. They overcame their respective adversities by uncovering meaning in their suffering and in their perseverance. Let us similarly illuminate the darkness around us during this holiday of rededication to tradition. May we draw from these examples of personal transformation to lift our bodies and spirits from gloom to wholeness.

News from JTS
New Podcasts (QuickTime is needed to view/listen to our podcasts)
JTS is on Facebook and YouTube
Posted by Roberto Abraham Scaruffi at 00:14