Joseph and His Brothers: Part II—Confrontations

Joseph and His Brothers: Part II—Confrontations
D’var Torah for Parashat Miketz (Genesis 41:1-44:17)
By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

Miketz, this week’s Torah portion, is the story of Joseph and Judah. It’s a study in confrontations, as much a psychological thriller as a beautiful story of brothers reconciling.

Judah was responsible for getting Joseph sold into slavery. So if anyone ever had reason to hold a grudge, it was Joseph. Their hatred for one another sizzled. Yet at some point, they both must come to realize there was something out there that was bigger than either of them; something that called out to them, telling them to get over the petty stuff and start paying attention to the real business at hand: survival.

But the road to reconciliation would not be easy or simple.

If Judah (having lost already two of his three sons) is to survive as a family, let alone as a tribe, he must marry his youngest son to Tamar (re-read chapter 38 for that story). Judah fears this prospect but must confront it if there’s to be any hope of a future to his family and name. In standing true to his promise to Tamar, Judah transcends his fear and begins his route to redemption.

Joseph, too, realizes that he is holding in his hand nothing less than the fate of his family and people. Yet before he can act, he must confront his past. He worked hard to forget it during the first few years that he was in Egypt. At first it was the degradation of slavery, the many tasks that came his way, the abuse he must have endured. Then came success. Joseph is taken from prison, called up to Pharaoh to interpret Pharaoh’s famous two dreams: The one about seven fat cows being eaten by seven scrawny cows; and the other, where a healthy stalk of wheat bearing seven branches of grain, is overtaken by seven lean and withered stalks bearing no grain at all. No one throughout the land of Egypt could tell Pharaoh what these dreams meant. Imagine that.

But for Joseph, his reputation preceded him. In the words of Pharaoh: “They say that for you to hear a dream is to immediately understand it” (Gen. 41:15).

Success pulls Joseph even further from his past. He now commands power second only to that of Pharaoh. A little luxury sometimes goes a long way to help you forget what poverty feels like.

But you can’t run away from your past.

As the predicted famine deepens throughout Egypt and even spreads to other lands (including Canaan), Joseph’s brothers come to Egypt to buy food. Joseph confronts the ten (Benjamin, the youngest, had stayed at home with Jacob). He accuses them of being spies, untrustworthy. He plays with them pretty mercilessly, but in the end he sends them home with food—along with their money. In their defense, however, the brothers had mentioned Jacob, Joseph and Benjamin. The names must have jabbed at Joseph’s repressed memories. Moreover, while talking among themselves—and believing that Joseph couldn’t understand them—they recalled the way they had handled Joseph. The most dreadful moment of all, the betrayal, the tearing away of Joseph from his childhood, from his home and his dreams, from his father and the beautiful striped tunic he had given Joseph, was out there in the open, a guilty secret that couldn’t be contained any more, that burst out in all its incriminating self hatred.

The intensity of the moment leads Joseph to weep, a sure sign that he understood that running away from his past was no longer an option. Yet he makes one more demand: That the next time that the brothers come down to Egypt to procure food, they must bring Benjamin with them.

The brothers come home to Jacob, and all’s well at first. Until the food runs out. Milling about, they know what they must do, but they are afraid. It takes Jacob all the courage he can muster to face and charge them with the task of buying food. “Um, Dad…,” they stammer in reply. You can almost sense their consternation. It was a confrontation with their father they tried to avoid for almost 20 years.

But Jacob has no choice. He has to trust his ten untrustworthy sons. Judah makes the deal possible by offering collateral: Judah himself will guard the boy. If he fails and something bad—God forbid!—happens, Judah will stand guilty before his father for the rest of his life.

By accepting this burden, this responsibility, Judah moves another step up the ladder of Redemption.

Jacob had never learned to accept Joseph’s death. In his heart of hearts, he still had hope that Joseph might be alive somewhere. Was there any reason for him to suspect now, at this moment, that this Overlord of Egypt that his sons spoke of, the one who had inquired about an old father and a younger brother, might be his long lost son? None whatsoever. And yet, what the old man does next is nothing short of wondrous: He sends the youthful lord a food offering. “Take with you,” Jacob instructs his sons, “some of the choice products of the land…, a little balm and a little honey, wax and lotus, pistachios and almonds” (Gen. 43:11). Jacob sends Joseph a care package. Some of his favorite foods. A taste of the past.

At seeing his brother Benjamin (and, I’m sure, smelling the soup), Joseph weeps again.

But he is not convinced. Have his brothers truly repented for mistreating him and selling him into slavery? All his instincts cry out to him to forgive them, but he can’t. He has one more test for them. What would they do if they had the opportunity to get rid of Benjamin just as they got rid of Joseph? Would they give in again to the same impulses that drove them to the first family betrayal?

Making sure that Benjamin would not be harmed in the process, Joseph arranges this last test. He just has to know.

And so one last confrontation is set up: the one between Joseph and Judah.

For scenes from next week portion, please stay tuned.

©2010 by Boaz D. Heilman