Vayeishev

Eileh Toldot Ya’akov: Yosef…
These are the generations of Jacob: Yosef…
Vayeshev begins the story of Yosef, the second youngest son of Yaakov—the firstborn of his beloved Rakhel. We are introduced to him as a 17-year-old youth—a na’ar--, who brings gossip about his brothers to his father. Torah tells us that Yisrael favored Yosef because he was a child of his old age.” Why Yisrael, and not Yaakov? Perhaps as Yisrael, Yaakov recognizes Yosef’s gifts. Ya’akov after all has experience himself with powerful and prophetic dreams (his dream of the ladder and the angels). In the beginning we are told These are the generations (toldot) of Ya’akov: Yosef…” and Yosef is, like his father, a dreamer. In this he is the generation of Yaakov: he is the inheritor of his father’s dreams and vision.

Vayosifu Od S’no Oto
And they increased, even more, their hatred of him
His brothers see by this gift that Yosef is the most beloved son, and they grow to hate him, so that they cannot even speak to him in peace. We are told twice: vayosifu od s’no oto.” (And they increased their hatred of him…” Yosef’s very name (which means he will add or increase) is embedded in the words used to describe how his brothers’ hatred of him grew. This suggests to me that perhaps what his brothers hated was something in Yosef—not the externalities of their father’s favoritism, or Yosef’s talebearing. Perhaps the reason can be found within Yosef’s name: he is increased, added to, he is more. To Ya’akov/ Yisrael, he is more than all his sons.

Yisrael gives Yosef a k’tonet passim (alternately translated as a coat of many colors, a fine woolen tunic, etc—in fact, in II Samuel 13:18 it is said that ‘such robes were worn by the maidens among the king’s daughters”—make of that what you will.) We are told that he was beautiful, and he wears the k’tonet passim—increasing his physical beauty—marking him as one apart. The brothers tear the coat from Yosef’s body when they throw him into the pit. Were his brothers jealous of it—or was its brightness, its delicate finery, emblematic of what they hated about him? (His brothers’ hatred and resentment of him feels uncomfortably understandable to me; some of what I dislike in young Yosef is what I see as his complete inability to tone it down”, even as his brothers’ disgust becomes apparent--he doesn’t know how to hide himself. He hasn’t learned how to be subtle. Or he knows what G-d intends of him, and he knows he cannot and must not hide.)

Hinei Ba’al HaChalamot
Behold, that master of dreams
The boy Yosef dreams two dreams, the first in which he and his brothers are binding sheaves in a field, and his brothers’ sheaves bow down to his, and the second in which the sun, moon, and eleven stars bow to him. He goes to his brothers, who openly hate him, to share his dreams.

" Please hear” he asks. Only hear. Only hear this dream I have dreamed. Be still, be silent, and hear. All I wish is for you to hear this dream. Hear my truth. We know that it was G-d’s will that Yosef not hide himself, that he share his dreams with his brothers. So much relies on Yosef’s ability to speak of his dreams to his brothers! What if he had simply kept them to himself, reasoning that they were absurd, or fearing his brothers’ scorn, anger, and retribution? His brothers hate him, and he must know this, and this dream will further fuel their hatred, and he must know this as well. Yet he goes to them. He goes to them because he has dreamed a dream, he has understood a truth, and he is overwhelmed by his need for that truth to be heard and understood. He dreams a second dream, and again he goes to them, for he understands that his truth is still a truth.

And yet for all his intentions may have been honorable or understandable, Yosef displays a clear lack of tact or understanding for how the plain message of his dreams would be taken by his brothers. He is still a boy at this point—he lacks the maturity or subtlety to take into account the fact that others may view his dreams negatively. I can see Yosef’s dream-telling as a kind of coming out, and in light of that I have sympathy for his stumbling lack of grace, his bold declaration. How many of us, when we realize who we truly are, and what we are meant to be, in our excitement, ‘come out’ in the same awkward way? Our feelings can be so great they overwhelm our awareness and consideration of the people we are sharing our selves with. We, like Yosef say Shim’u na”—please hear. It can be very difficult to honor our dreams, to be true to what we know is right and true for ourselves.

Yosef, even in his immaturity, understands that in order to do and to become what Hashem intends for him, he cannot hide himself. This strength, the ability to realize who he is and to be true to that even in the light of others’ pressure to hide himself, the hatred and mocking of his own family. (His brothers’ open hatred can be seen as pressure to conform, be more like them, reject their father’s ‘special treatment’.) That is the strength of the young Yosef. He knew who he was. He understood what G-d intended of him. He did not keep silent, he did not hide, but he was open, he was a light.

And this strength shines, becomes brilliant, when he is sent down to Egypt, where the pressures, both internal and external, to assimilate, to lose his Jewish identity, his identity as an Ivri, must have been very strong indeed. Significantly, it is here, in Egypt, that the pivotal change comes: he is no longer the boy Yosef, but Hashem was with Yosef, and he was a man”. Yosef remains true to himself, to his G-d, and to his family. He does not hide himself. Sold by his own brothers (apparently) into slavery, far from his home, completely cut off from his family, traditions— through it all he is faithful to his true self and to G-d.

Ner Hashem Nishmat Adam
The Lamp of G-d is the Soul of Humanity
Yosef’s story is always read during Chanukah. Chanukah is the holiday of the open miracle—we put our chanukiot in our windows, Nes gadol hayah sham we say, we publicize the miracle (which is the miracle of our strength in being true to ourselves as Jews, being true to Hashem). It is said Ner Hashem nishmat Adam”: the light of G-d is the soul of humanity. Yosef is a naked, exposed soul. What we are, what we think of as ‘our true selves’ is our soul seeking G-d, becoming what G-d intends us to become. It is like a flame, a fire, seeking oxygen, seeking to be nourished by G-d in order to flourish. And if you cover a flame up, if you hide it—it will die. So it is with our souls—if we hide ourselves, if we conceal ourselves and try to hide from our own soul, from G-d—it is a death. May we be blessed with the strength of Yosef, who did not conceal himself and but opened himself, even as his openness made him vulnerable.