Friday December 20, 2024/19 Kislev 5785
Parashat Vayeshev
וַיֹּ֕אמֶר-- אֶת־אַחַ֖י אָנֹכִ֣י מְבַקֵּ֑שׁ
[Joseph] answered, I am looking for my brothers
מַדּ֛וּעַ פְּנֵיכֶ֥ם רָעִ֖ים הַיּֽוֹם
Why do you seem so sad today?
(Bereishit/Genesis 37:16; 40: 7)
Hevre/Friends,
The winter solstice has us welcoming Shabbat on the longest, darkest night of the year. And oh, do we long for light. For peace. For civility. For justice. For safety. For our hostages to come home. When the world seems so bleak, where can we find a glimmer of hope? Take a look in the mirror. But first, take a look at our Torah portion, Vayeshev.
Jacob asks Joseph to go find his brothers who were herding his sheep. An unnamed man encounters him wandering and asks, “What are you looking for?” Joseph replies, “I’m looking for my brothers.” In that simple exchange my late grandfather, Rabbi Mendell Lewittes, z”l, heard the eternal call for us to focus not on searching for the things we think will make us happy and successful, but for the people with whom to share a life of values and meaning. Especially, during dark times, whether seasonal or political, we tend to pull inward and hunker down. What pulls us out of that gloom is love. Fellowship is what pulls us out of isolation, out of despair. The bonds of family and community are the foundation of a society, of a nation.
Joseph’s life epitomizes the rollercoaster so many of us find ourselves on, hanging on through the dips of loss, failure, and pain and climbing towards the heights of achievement, connection, and purpose. He falls into the depths of sibling rivalry, the capriciousness of those in power, rises to the ennoblement of responsibility and the courageousness of repair and healing. What prods him to exchange his immature narcissism for dignity and duty?
Rabbi Yaakov Haber points to the moment when, sitting in jail, Joseph looks up from his own despair and notices the suffering of the other prisoners. He asks, “Why do you look so sad today?” Looking beyond himself to the needs and feelings of others, this simple question changed the course of his life. Joseph began his life interpreting his own dreams and promoting only himself; he refined it by interpreting other people’s dreams and helping them understand their own lives – their possibilities and their limitations. This exchange with the others ultimately leads him to power and privilege, but also to empathic, compassionate, and salvific leadership. “Herein lies the lesson”, writes Rabbi Haber, “if we are only focused on ourselves we will fall; if we focus on our brothers and sisters, our families, friends, and fellow citizens, we succeed.”
The Hanukkah lights we’ll start kindling next Wednesday night will surely provide some warmth and illumination to these dark times. But their flames eventually burn out and the darkness inevitably returns. It is up to us to generate and sustain light. To start, let’s resist the urge to retreat into our cocoons surrounding ourselves with the things that calm and soothe us and instead reach out - and across - to other people and build deeper, stronger bonds for the long road ahead. Let’s also look up from our own concerns and really notice them; pay attention to how people are feeling and be present to others in their own struggles. These simple gestures - looking for your people and inquiring genuinely about their wellbeing - is what extends the inspiration generated by the Hanukkah lights and can literally change the world.
At your Shabbat table tonight, take a moment to share this related Hasidic tale:
A rebbe asked their students how we know when night has ended and a new day has begun. One suggested it’s when there’s enough light to distinguish a sheep from a dog. Another offered it’s when there’s enough light to distinguish a date tree from a fig tree. The rebbe was disappointed. “Why do you only think in separations and divisions?” The answer, the rebbe explained, is when there’s enough light for you to look at a stranger and recognize them as your kin; that you belong to one another; that you are one. Until you can do that, it’s still night.
With ongoing prayers for the hostages and their families, the bereaved and the injured, and for a lasting peace in Israel and around the world, I wish you Shabbat Shalom.
Dini
