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Yeshivat Har Etzion

PARASHAT MIKETZ

Rav David Silverberg

Parashat Miketz continues the story of Yosef's experiences in Egypt, telling of his sudden appointment as the country's viceroy after successfully interpreting Pharaoh's dreams that had baffled his team of experts. Yosef informed Pharaoh that the seven shriveled cows and lean sheaves of grain, which he envisioned in his dream, symbolized seven years of famine that will follow seven years of surplus. He then added, "Accordingly, let Pharaoh find a man who is intelligent and wise, and set him over the land of Egypt" (41:33). Yosef recommends that Pharaoh assign a qualified individual to oversee the storage of grain during the years of surplus so that the country could survive the seven harsh years of drought.

Yosef mentioned two qualifications required of such a person: he must be "navon" ("intelligent") and "chakham" ("wise"). The word "chakham," of course, is far more common and generally refers to general intellectual capability. Clearly, the person entrusted with Egypt's economic future must be a "chakham," a talented administrator with organizational and industrial skills, so that he can organize this major operation of storing enormous quantities of grain. But to what does the adjective "navon" refer? What kind of a person does Yosef have in mind, and why is this quality necessary for the job of storing grain?

The Ramban explains that "chokhma" in this verse refers to knowledge concerning healthy storage of different grains. Yosef emphasizes that the official in charge must have familiarity with the different species in grain prevalent in Egypt and understand how to best preserve them for an extended period of time. "Navon," on the other hand, refers to handling the distribution, the mathematical skills required to fairly and efficiently divide the limited amounts of grain to the different sectors of the population.

The Rashbam, however, explains differently. In his view, "chakham" refers to accumulated knowledge, whereas "navon" means, in the Rashbam's words, "that he understands the future and anticipates what will transpire." Why would Yosef require this particular quality of foresight in the person assigned to oversee the storage of grain?

Several writers, including Rav Eliyahu Lopian, suggested that it takes a considerable degree of foresight to undertake during a time of agricultural surplus a major operation to prepare for famine. When things are going well, people generally do not anticipate - let alone prepare for - the time when the tide will turn. True, people might have some awareness of the fact that good times are very often followed by hard times. But very few people would be prepared during periods of prosperity to exert themselves to the utmost in anticipation of crisis.

This, perhaps, at least according to the Rashbam, is what Yosef had in mind when he recommended that Pharaoh hire an "ish navon." In order for the person to take his job seriously, he must truly believe in and sense the disaster that will strike only several years later. This is not easy for people to do during times of prosperity. Understandably, then, Pharaoh selected Yosef. Only he, who prophetically foresaw the impending catastrophe, truly sensed the gravity of the situation and the dire need to prepare accordingly. Therefore, as Pharaoh, declares, "Since God has made all this known to you, there is no one 'navon' or 'chakham' as you" (41:39).

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The opening verse of Parashat Miketz tells that Pharaoh's dream, which led to Yosef's release from prison and rise to the position of Egyptian viceroy, occurred a full two years after the previously recorded incident - the release of the butler and execution of the baker. A famous passage in the Midrash, cited by Rashi in his comments to the final verse of Parashat Vayeshev, claims that the two-year delay served as a punishment for Yosef. Recall that in the final verses of Parashat Vayeshev, Yosef interprets the dreams of his fellow inmates - the butler and the baker, and informs the butler of his imminent release from prison. After declaring this prediction, Yosef asks the butler to intercede on his behalf with the king. According to the Midrash, God extended Yosef's prison term by two years as punishment for placing his trust in the butler, rather than in the Almighty.

Many writers throughout the ages have attempted to explain why the Midrash found fault in Yosef's attempt to secure his own release through the butler. Why was it wrong for him to employ whatever means at his disposal to improve his condition? Was he to sit back and wait for God's supernatural intervention?

Some writers, including Rav Moshe Leib Shachor, in his "Avnei Shoham," suggested that Yosef's unique situation warranted his absolute trust in God and the negation of any personal initiative. All the events that had transpired and led him to this point, where he sat in a dungeon on false charges of attempted rape, were of a clearly supernatural character. Under such extraordinary circumstances, a person must, indeed, just sit back and wait for God's involvement.

It is unclear, however, why Yosef should have considered his situation unique and supernatural. True, life has been very unkind to him - his brothers threw him into a pit, he was sold as a slave, and he was then imprisoned on false accusations. But nothing about these events appears particularly supernatural that would require Yosef to remain entirely passive with respect to his plight.

The Chazon Ish, in his classic work, "Emuna U-bitachon" (2:6), which discusses the issue of trust in God and the balance between this trust and human effort, suggests a different explanation. He, too, distinguishes between different situations. One is certainly permitted and encouraged to employ whatever means he can to help himself, but only if those means are potentially capable of helping. When no feasible solution presents itself, a person must place his trust in God, rather than resort to desperate, unreasonable attempts to improve his plight. Herein, the Chazon Ish claimed, lies Yosef's mistake. In criticizing Yosef's behavior in this regard, the Midrash cites a verse from Sefer Tehillim (40:5): "Happy is the man who makes the Lord his trust, who turns not to 'rehavim' [arrogant, selfish people]." According to the Midrash, Yosef turned to a "rahav" - an arrogant, insensitive person, in the hope of securing his release from prison. It was insensible for Yosef to believe that the butler would bother to plead his case before Pharaoh after being reinstated. Yosef's appeal to the butler was therefore an act of desperation, rather than genuine "hishtadlut" (effort). Upon seeing no viable solution to his crisis, Yosef should not have employed irrational means, but rather have appealed only to the Almighty.

Others, however, explain this Midrash by focusing not on the circumstances of Yosef's travails, but rather the degree of his trust in the butler. Appealing to the butler in itself does not reflect a lack of trust in God; however, Yosef may have felt overly confident in the prospect of his release through the agency of the butler. Rav Yaakov Ariel, in his "Mei-Ohalei Torah," contrasts Yosef's comments to the butler with his conversation with Pharaoh as he interprets the king's dreams. When speaking to Pharaoh, Yosef mentions God's Name repeatedly. In fact, his very first comments to the king are, "Not I - God will see to Pharaoh's welfare" (41:16). When he proceeds to offer his interpretation, Yosef says, "God has told Pharaoh what He is about to do" (41:25). Significantly, Yosef takes no credit for the transmission of information from God to Pharaoh; he denies his own role in relaying the message. By contrast, in requesting the assistance of the butler, Yosef makes no reference to God whatsoever, perhaps suggesting an exaggerated dependence on the butler, at the expense of his sense of dependence on the Almighty's grace.

Echoes of this approach appear already in the commentary of Rabbenu Bachyei, who claims that Yosef's error lay in his determination of the specific method God should employ to rescue him. The Midrash perhaps understood that Yosef decidedly looked upon the butler as his means of escaping the dungeon. We must always remember that "harbei sheluchim yeish la-Makom" - the Almighty often brings salvation in ways we could never foresee or even imagine. Appropriately, then, God keeps Yosef in prison until Pharaoh's dream, when Yosef's freedom would surface as a result of a bizarre sequence of events that he could have never imagined.

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Parashat Miketz tells of the devastating famine that ravaged Egypt and its surrounding countries, including Canaan. Egypt had prepared for the crisis during the previous seven years of surplus, and was thus able to feed its own population and even sell grain to the peoples of Canaan. Yaakov therefore sends his sons from Chevron to purchase grain in Egypt, and when they come before Yosef, who served as the Egyptian viceroy and managed the distribution of grain, he accuses them of coming to spy the land. He demands that they bring the only brother who remained home - Binyamin - as proof that they are all part of one family in Canaan, and did not come as spies. Yaakov, however, refuses to allow Binyamin to join his brothers in Egypt. But as the family's food rations begin to dwindle, Yehuda urges his father to permit Binyamin to join them. He declares, "I myself will be surety for him; you may hold me responsible: if I do not bring him back to you and set him before you, I will have sinned before you forever" (43:9). Yaakov accepts Yehuda's "offer" and allows Binyamin to join his brother on their way to Egypt.

What kind of "sin" would Yehuda have committed had Binyamin not returned safely to Canaan? Had, for example, Binyamin suddenly taken ill or been captured by kidnappers, why would Binyamin's absence render Yehuda a "sinner"? True, he accepted responsibility for his younger brother's safety, but responsibility only goes so far. What did Yehuda mean when he accepted upon himself the status of a "sinner" if Binyamin would not return safely to Canaan?

This question led Rav Yaakov Medan to a particularly novel interpretation of this verse, as part of a lengthy discussion of the entire narrative concerning Yosef and his brothers (in his rather famous article in "Megadim," vol. 2). Rav Medan suggests that Yehuda sees this situation as an opportunity to rectify and achieve full atonement for his decisive role in the selling of Yosef. After all, it was he who suggested that Yosef be sold as a slave, after Reuven had attempted to save Yosef. The contention between the brothers and Yosef revolved around the question of which of Yaakov's wives is to be considered his primary wife, such that her eldest qualified son would lead the twelve brothers. After Leah's three eldest children forfeited their rights to leadership (Reuven through his sin involving Bilha, and Shimon and Levi as a result of their violent assault on Shekhem), Yehuda would emerge as leader if Leah would be granted primary status. Yosef, of course, the firstborn of Rachel, would assume leadership if Rachel were given this status. Now, after Yosef's presumed death, Binyamin becomes the candidate for the family leadership as Rachel's only remaining son. By assuming responsibility for Binyamin's welfare, Yehuda thereby completes his process of teshuva. He now commits himself to look after and protect his "competitor," so-to-speak, as opposed to his efforts to eliminate his previous contender, Yosef.

Rav Medan thus boldly suggests that the "sin" of which Yehuda speaks refers not to his culpability for any harm befalling Binyamin, but rather to his actual sin of selling Yosef to slavery. Yehuda sees his protection of Binyamin as the litmus test of his repentance for the wrong he committed against Yosef. Thus, by ensuring Binyamin's safe return to Canaan, Yehuda sees to it that he would not have "sinned before you forever."

It is worth noting that Rashi, in his commentary several verses earlier (42:36), writes (based on the Midrash in Bereishit Rabba) that Yaakov at this point began suspecting his sons of killing Yosef. This explains Yaakov's adamant refusal to trust the brothers with Binyamin as they return to Egypt, and may also shed light on Yehuda's guarantee. Yehuda tells his father that should he return from Egypt without Binyamin, this will confirm Yaakov's suspicions of his - as leader of the brothers - involvement in Yosef's presumed death, and he will thus be considered as having sinned against Yaakov forever, with regard to both Yosef and Binyamin.

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Parashat Miketz tells of Yosef's harsh treatment of his brothers when they come to purchase grain from Egypt due to the famine that had struck Canaan. Yosef serves as the Egyptian viceroy and oversees the sale and distribution of the enormous quantities of grain that the country had stored during the previous seven years of surplus. The brothers, therefore, obviously do not recognize him. Yosef accuses his brothers of coming to spy the land and demands that they bring him their younger brother, Binyamin, as proof of their family background.

The fundamental question that has been addressed concerning this parasha is, quite simply, what is Yosef's objective in all this? Why does he find it necessary to torment his brothers - not to mention his father - who are already languishing from hunger? Why is it so important that Binyamin join him in Egypt?

Among the more famous explanations offered to explain Yosef's conduct is that of Abarbanel and Rav Yitzchak Arama (the "Akeidat Yitzchak"), who suggest that Yosef seeks to lead his brothers to complete repentance for their crime. The brothers had resented Yaakov's preferential treatment towards Yosef, as the son of his favorite wife, Rachel, and therefore decided to eliminate him. Now, Yosef devises a plan by which he places them in a situation where they have no choice but to commit themselves to the safety and protection of Binyamin - Rachel's other son, who, after Yosef's alleged death, had taken Yosef's place as Yaakov's preferred son. The famine that ravages Canaan affords Yosef the opportunity to force their brothers to treat Binyamin kindly and disregard his preferred status at home. Many years earlier, Yosef and his brothers were alone and they sold him into slavery; by the end of our story, Yehuda - the one who suggested selling Yosef - offers to remain in Egypt permanently as a slave in order to allow Binyamin's safe return to his father in Canaan.

The Ramban employs a similar approach in explaining the final stage of Yosef's plot, when he has his goblet placed in Binyamin's bag to frame him as a thief. According to the Ramban, Yosef wanted to ensure that the brothers harbor no ill will towards Binyamin as they had towards him. The hiding of the goblet thus served to test the brothers' loyalty to their youngest brother, to see if they would indifferently return home and let Binyamin remain as a slave in Egypt, or if they would exert themselves on his behalf. (As we will see a bit later, the Ramban adopts a different approach in explaining the first stage of Yosef's scheme - the demand that the brothers bring Binyamin to Egypt.)

The obvious question arises, what right did Yosef have to cause his brothers - not to mention his father - so much grief and anguish in order to lead them along the path of teshuva? Is anybody entitled to play the role of God and torment his fellow in order to cause him to repent?

Rav Soloveitchik zt"l (see http://shamash.org/listarchives/mj-ravtorah/miketz.96.ravtorah.96) explained Yosef's conduct by focusing on his initial response upon realizing that his brothers stood before him: "Yosef remembered the dreams that he had dreamt about them… " (42:9). The Torah here indicates that this situation reminded Yosef of his childhood dreams of leadership and authority over his brothers (see 37:5-9). Indeed, the Ramban claims that Yosef's scheme was motivated by these dreams, which he felt obligated to bring to fruition, thus necessitating that all his brothers - including Binyamin - come to Egypt and bow before him. But according to the approach of Abarbanel and Akeidat Yitzchak, that Yosef's aim is to lead his brothers to teshuva, of what relevance are his dreams to his scheme? Rav Soloveitchik explains that Yosef's dreams gave him the right - and the obligation - to ensure his brother's repentance. After all, what did the dreams mean? They meant that Yosef was to serve as the family's leader in preparation for the long and bitter exile that awaited them. Yosef understood the long-term implications of the current situation. The unbearable conditions in Canaan, the fact that Egypt was the only source of sustenance for the inhabitants of Canaan, and Yosef's position of authority in Egypt, all led to the inescapable conclusion that Yaakov and his sons must now settle in Egypt and begin an era of exile. This era, Yosef correctly realized, could not begin with a rupture between Yaakov's sons. If Yaakov's children are to retain their identity and preserve their tradition and heritage in Egypt, they must work together, rather than harbor mutual feelings of resentment and animosity.

Yosef, who correctly interprets several dreams throughout this story, interprets his own dreams as foreseeing his seminal role in leading the family in preparation for the long and difficult period that lay ahead. Rightfully so, then, he assumes the right and the responsibility to guarantee that his brothers will feel genuine remorse for their mistreatment of him, so that the twelve sons of Yaakov can come together once again and join forces to withstand the years of hardship and suffering that await them.

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Yesterday, we discussed Yosef's harsh treatment of his brothers when they come before him, as he serves as Egyptian viceroy and supervises the distribution of the country's grain. Yosef accuses them of coming to spy the country and demands that they bring their youngest brother, Binyamin, to Egypt as proof of their innocence. Over the course of yesterday's discussion, we encountered the two classic approaches taken in understanding Yosef's intent. The Ramban claims that Yosef feels himself obligated to bring to fruition his childhood dreams of leadership, which foresaw that all his brothers - including Binyamin - would bow before him. Others, including Abarbanel and "Akeidat Yitzchak," explain that Yosef wanted to ensure his brothers' repentance for their mistreatment of him. He places them in a situation where they must exert themselves on behalf of their father's favorite son, Binyamin, thus demonstrating their complete teshuva for having jealously sought the elimination of Yosef - their father's previous favorite son.

In any event, according to both approaches, Yosef's primary objective is bringing Binyamin to him in Egypt. While this explains the general contour of Yosef's scheme, one component remains unclear. When Yosef sends his brothers home and orders that they bring Binyamin (keeping Shimon in an Egyptian prison as "collateral" to ensure their return), he has his servant place in their bags the money they had brought and used to purchase grain (42:25). Later, upon discovering that their money was returned, the brothers are terribly frightened, presuming that they will now be accused of theft (see 42:28,35). Why did Yosef have their money returned to their bags? What purpose did this serve within his overall scheme to bring Binyamin to Egypt?

Professor Shulamit Elitzur, in her work, "Shira Shel Parasha," shows how the answer to this question emerges clearly from a poem composed by the poet Shimon Ha-kohen Birebi, in which he describes the final scene of Parashat Miketz. After Binyamin comes to Egypt and the brothers prepare to return home, Yosef orders that his royal goblet be placed in Binyamin's bag, so that he could be accused of stealing from Yosef. Yosef then demands that Binyamin stay in Egypt as a slave, prompting Yehuda's impassioned appeal on Binyamin's behalf in the opening section of Parashat Vayigash. The poem tells that the brothers, upon seeing the goblet in Binyamin's bag, immediately declare, "Just as his mother stole - so has Binyamin stole!" Recall that earlier, in Parashat Vayetze (31:19), Rachel steals the "terafim" (idols, or oracles) of her father, Lavan. Now, as the brothers see the goblet in Binyamin's bag, they assume - initially - that he has inherited his mother's proclivity to theft. Meaning, the brothers accuse Binyamin of having actually stolen the royal goblet from Yosef. The poem adds that the brothers then begin wondering, "This one father protected like the pupil [of his eye]?!" As Binyamin is caught "red-handed" stealing the property of the Egyptian viceroy, the brothers cannot help but ridicule Yaakov's initial, adamant refusal to allow Binyamin to join his brothers in Egypt, his concern "that he might meet with disaster" (42:4). The brothers scoff at Yaakov's almost obsessive protection of Binyamin, who has now been exposed as a crook.

Very quickly, however, the brothers realize their error. As the poem continues, "They muttered: What shall we say about the first money, and what shall we whisper about the second money?" Yosef had instructed his servant not only to place his goblet in Binyamin's bag, but also to once again return the brothers' money, just as he had before their previous departure from Egypt. Thus, as Yosef's servant now rummages through their bags in search of the goblet, he - and the brothers - once again see their money returned to their bags, which obviously reminds them of their money's return when they left Egypt the first time. Now Binyamin, of course, was not with them the first time they came to Egypt. Clearly, then, somebody in Egypt was placing things in their bags when they weren't looking. This made the brothers realize that they cannot accuse Binyamin of actually stealing the goblet. The money that was placed in their bags before their previous departure from Egypt proved that somebody is framing them, and it thus stands to reason, then, that here, too, they are being framed, and Binyamin did not steal anything.

This then explains why Yosef had their money returned before they left Egypt the first time. Already at this stage Yosef knew that he would plant his goblet in Binyamin's bag in order to test his brothers' willingness to come to Binyamin's rescue. But what if they would believe Yosef's accusation, that Binyamin stole the goblet? They would most certainly not feel any obligation to lobby for his release if they felt that he tried stealing the viceroy's goblet! Yosef therefore had to show them that somebody is tampering with their bags in Egypt, in order that they would not accuse Binyamin of theft, and thus he has their money returned to their bags before their departure from Egypt the first time.

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Yesterday, we discussed Yosef's harsh treatment of his brothers when they came to Egypt to purchase grain, as told in Parashat Miketz, and we focused on the purpose of his returning their money to their bags. Recall that Yosef imprisons Shimon and orders the remaining brothers to return to Canaan to bring to Egypt their youngest brother, Binyamin. Before their departure from Egypt, Yosef has his servant return the money with which they had purchased grain to their bags. Upon discovering the money in their bags, the brothers shuddered in fright: "Their hearts sank; and, trembling, they turned to one another, saying: What is this that God has done to us?" (42:28).

The "Saba" of Kelm, among the foremost personalities of the Musar movement, noted the glaring irony of this scene. Generally speaking, when a person suddenly discovers that he has received money he does not deserve, he responds with joy and exhilaration. In this instance, the brothers react to their windfall with panic, wondering, "What is this that God has done to us?" In context, of course, their response is easy to understand. They naturally assumed that since the Egyptian viceroy accuses them – for whatever reason – of spying the land, he – or perhaps some other Egyptian – sought to frame them with theft to substantiate the accusation. Indeed, upon their return to Egypt, they are brought to Yosef's house, which they initially assumed to mean that they will be arrested for allegedly stealing money from the country: "It must be because of the money replaced in our bags the first time that we have been brought, as a pretext to attack us and seize us as slaves" (43:18). Quite understandably, they reacted to the sight of their money not with celebration, but with panic.

Nevertheless, the "Saba" of Kelm suggested that this reaction provides us with a subtle lesson regarding the proper approach to monetary gain and material success. Our response to the acquisition of wealth, he claimed, must include a degree of anxiety, similar to the fear experienced by Yosef's brothers. For one thing, wealth is not always a blessing; the affect it has on its owner can often turn around and ruin him. But in addition, a person who enjoys material success must ask himself, as the brothers did, "What is this that God has done to us?" or, to phrase the question a bit differently, "Why has God done this for us?" Blessings of wealth and comfort cast upon a person enormous responsibility; one's resources come to him so that he can utilize them in the pursuit of spiritual goals and for the betterment of the world. Therefore, when one looks into his "bag" and finds resources that he hadn't expected to see there, he must immediately ask, "What is this that God has done to me" – what purpose am I to serve with these new, unexpected resources?

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Parashat Miketz begins with a description of Pharaoh's dreams, which Yosef will ultimately interpret as heralding the onset of seven years of surplus, which will be followed by seven years of drought. Pharaoh dreams of seven lean, emaciated cows devouring seven sturdy, healthy cows, as well as seven withered sheaves of grain "eating" seven robust sheaves. This vision, Yosef explains to the king, symbolizes the "lean" years of famine that will overtake and "devour" the seven years of surplus. The Torah describes the seven healthy cows in Pharaoh's dream as "yefot mar'eh u-vri'ot basar" – "handsome and sturdy" (41:2). Rashi, commenting on the first of these two terms ("yefot mar'eh"), explains that the cows' comely appearance represented the seven years of plenty, during which people appear healthy and content and are able to act generously towards one another, rather than competing over the limited food resources.

Rav David Pardo, in his work on Rashi's commentary, "Maskil Le-David," takes note of Rashi's comments to this verse and quips, "Yosef Ha-tzadik already preceded him in interpreting this dream!" Meaning, why did Rashi find it necessary to inform us already at this point of the symbolic meaning behind the healthy appearance of the first set of cows in Pharaoh's dream? Why didn't Rashi let the reader wait another several verses until he hears from Yosef himself the underlying symbolism of the healthy cows?

Professor Nechama Leibowitz z"l resolves this difficulty by carefully reading Rashi's interpretation of a previous instance of this expression, "yefei mar'eh." Earlier, in Parashat Vayetze (29:17), the Torah describes the matriarch Rachel with two expressions – "yefat to'ar" and "yefat mar'eh." Rashi there (in most editions of Rashi's commentary) explains the difference between these two descriptions: "'To'ar' refers to the form of the face… 'mar'eh' is a radiant countenance." Rashi appears to distinguish here between two different features of appearance: physical features, and a more general, abstract form of attractiveness and charm. "Yefei to'ar" refers to comely physical features, whereas "yefei mar'eh" denotes a less tangible aura of beauty and radiance.

Based on this distinction, Professor Leibowitz explained, we can easily understand why Rashi found it necessary to comment upon the Torah's description of the seven healthy cows. The Torah employs in reference to these cows the term, "yefot mar'eh," which, according to the rule Rashi established in Parashat Vayetze, refers to a "radiant countenance," as opposed to fine physical features. How could the Torah describe cows with such a term? This question demands an immediate response, and therefore Rashi resolves this difficulty by explaining that the "countenance" here alludes to the look of contentment upon the faces of people living in a time of economic prosperity. Thus, Rashi here is not trying to interpret the dream – after all, Yosef had already done that many centuries earlier – but rather seeks to justify the use of the expression "yefot mar'eh" as part of the Torah's description of the seven cows in Pharaoh's dream.