PARSHAT MIKETZ

 

SHABBAT HANUKKAH

 (5768)

 

BEAUTY AND HOLINESS

 

“Therefore Pharaoh sent for Joseph and he was rushed from the dungeon.  He had his hair cut and changed his clothes, and he appeared before Pharaoh.”     (Genesis 41:14)

 

            There are so many worthy issues to discuss on Hanukkah – light pushing away the darkness, maintaining identity in the face of assimilation, “not by might and not by power but by spirit.”   But perhaps the central idea worthy of discussion is the conflict between Hellenism and Judaism.  After all, Hanukkah began as a civil war between those Jews who had embraced the Greek way of life and those who clung onto the ancient Hebrew ways.

            There is a long conflict between the Greek way of viewing the world and the Biblical way of viewing the world.  Certainly Western civilization is a combination of the Greek and the Hebrew – Plato’s philosophy with Moses’ theology, Aristotle’s ethics with Isaiah’s passion.  They are totally intermingled in Western thought.  But there are still major differences.  It was the fight over these differences that led to the Maccabee revolt, the defeat of the Syrian-Greeks, and the rededication of the Temple.

            What is the difference between the Biblical and the Hellenistic ways of viewing the world?  To put it simply, it is the relationship between beauty and holiness.  To the Greeks, beauty is holy; to the Israelites, holiness is beautiful.  The Greeks put great emphasis on the physical perfection of the body.  The Olympics were originally run in the nude as athletes strove for a certain physical ideal.  There was no tolerance in the ancient Greek culture for the Jewish practice of circumcision.  It was considered mutilation of the perfect human body.  There was also no toleration of imperfect children; a baby born with any kind of defect was left to die.

            To the Israelites, bodily perfection was absolutely secondary.  The goal was to strive for moral and spiritual perfection.  Every human being was considered holy, created in the image of God.  Certainly the rabbis recognized people who were physically beautiful.  There is a wonderful exchange in the Talmud between Rabbi Yohanan and the gladiator who would eventually become a Torah scholar and his brother-in-law, Reish Lakish.  Reish Lakish looked at Rabbi Yohanan, an unusually good-looking man, and said, “Your beauty should be used for women.”  Rabbi Yohannan answered back, “Your strength should be used for Torah study.”  Physical beauty and athletic strength was only useful if used for a higher spiritual purpose.

            Unfortunately, we live in a world more influenced by the Greeks than the Hebrews.  We worship beauty.  Our magazines teach young girls how to diet, exercise, dress, use makeup, etc. in a way that will make them look like fashion models and movie stars.  Young boys are influenced by star athletes to use steroids and other drugs to enhance their physical performance.  It is clear that beautiful people have a better chance of getting the good jobs, going forward professionally, having influence, and of course, meeting the perfect romantic partner.  It is small wonder that many of our young girls are starving themselves to try to be as beautiful as the women in magazines.

            The emphasis on beauty even comes out in the story of Joseph that we read this week.  Joseph was a very successful man who became the second most powerful figure in ancient Egypt.  Joseph had a lot going for him, including a great charisma and the ability to interpret dreams.  But he had one other gift.  Joseph is one of the few people in the Bible described as being “well-built and handsome.”  (Genesis 39:6)  He was the Brad Pitt of his generation.  When he went before Pharaoh after being in prison, he shaved and dressed immaculately.  Pharaoh was certainly impressed by the young man’s good looks.  In pagan Egypt people worshipped beauty.

            The Greek worship of beauty has taken over our society.  It is small wonder that the diet, exercise, and cosmetic surgery industries are surging.  It is also small wonder that we so fear aging, when our bodies lose their physical perfection.  Perhaps Hanukkah is a time to stop seeing the world through Hellenistic eyes and start looking at it through Hebrew eyes.  Perhaps we should stop looking at people’s physical beauty and start looking at that inner beauty, that spiritual perfection the Torah.

 

 

PARSHAT MIKETZ

 (5766)

 

HISTORY FROM GOD’S PERSPECTIVE

 

“And Joseph answered Pharaoh, saying, It is not in me; God shall give Pharaoh a favorable answer.”                                              (Genesis 41:16)

 

            Many years ago, when I served in my first pulpit in Nyack, NY, I was properly chastised by a member of my synagogue.  I had spoken about the Joseph story.  I tried to describe the essence of this great epic that takes up the last third of Genesis.  “It is the story of a man who rises from prison to become the second most powerful man in Egypt, who then puts his brothers through a test to see if they have changed, and who eventually reconciles with the brothers who sold him into slavery.” 

            After services a man cornered me.  “Rabbi, you missed the whole essence of the Joseph story!  It is far more than a family story about feuding brothers.  The whole point of the story is that God is working behind the scenes.   Events happen, perfectly natural events.  Then Joseph tells his brothers, this is the hand of God.  The point of the Joseph story is to see the hand of God in history.” 

            The man was absolutely right.  But maybe I needed another twenty years of being a rabbi to see it.  Perfectly natural events take place in history.  Then we step back to gain some perspective and see the hand of God.   We do not need a burning bush or a sea dividing to see how God acts in history.  All we need is a long term view of perfectly natural events.  Suddenly we can say there is more going on here than we think.

            In a sense, this is how the Rabbis understand the festival of Hanukkah.  Hanukkah began as a civil war between assimilated, Hellenistic Jews and the traditionalist Maccabees who fought both the Syrian Greeks and their Jewish allies.  The traditionalists, despite being small in number, were successful in the battlefield, and were able to rededicate the Temple.  They declared an eight day festival, a totally secular celebration of a military victory.  The Rabbis later totally reenvisioned the festival.  It became a celebration of a great miracle.  “A Great Miracle Happened There” spell out the letters on the draidel, the small top used by Jewish children on the festival.  On Hanukkah we look at perfectly natural events and see the hand of God.

            God works in history.  Events take place and we humans, being close to those events, often lose the greater picture.  Only when we step back can we truly focus on the greater role that God plays in the unfolding of events.  In Jewish thought, we call it redemptive history.  God’s redemption works its way through the natural course of history, but often we fail to see God’s role.  Biblical tradition teaches that history has a purpose and a direction.  Events are not mere happenstance.  Like the story of Joseph and the story of Hanukkah, historical events are the working out of some kind of divine plan.

When I want to demonstrate this idea to my congregation, I often turn to the work of the French impressionist artist Georges Seurat.  His most famous painting, which I know you have all seen, is called Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. When you look at his paintings up close, they seem like a lot of random little dots.  There appears to be no pattern and no purpose.  Step back for perspective and you get a beautiful picture of picnickers by a river.  And so it is with history.   We see the world from a very limited human perspective; sometimes all we see is the random little dots.  We must step back to receive a God’s eye vision. 

The congregant in my first pulpit was right.  We read the story of Joseph in order to develop a God’s eye view of the world.  We celebrate Hanukkah in order to see the hand of God in history.  As a young rabbi in my first pulpit, I often did not understand that.  Over the years, I have been able to step back and look at the big picture.  More and more I can say about events, “This is the hand of God.”

 

 

PARSHAT MIKETZ

(5764) 

 

THREE STORIES OF HANUKKAH

 

"Thereupon Pharaoh sent for Joseph, and he was rushed from the dungeon.  He had his hair cut and changed his clothes, and he appeared before Pharaoh."                                (Genesis 41:14)

 

All Jewish children have heard the basic story of Hanukkah.  But to look at Hanukkah as an adult, we see three separate stories.

Story #1 - What really happened?  Hanukkah actually began as a civil war between two groups of Jews - those attracted to the  Hellenistic way of life, and those faithful to the ancient traditions of Israel, led by Judah Macabee and his brothers.  The traditionalists, in a surprising victory, triumphed over their assimilationist brethren and the Syrian-Greeks.  They went on to rededicate the Temple in Jerusalem, which had been defiled by the Hellenists.

Judah Macabee and his brothers celebrated an eight day victory celebration, probably a delayed celebration of the festival of the Biblical festival of Sukkot.  They had been unable to observe the eight days of Sukkot while the battles were taking place.  According to the Torah, on Sukkot the number of offerings is diminished day by day; similarly, the sage Shammai declared that the candles should be diminished day by day.  The first day eight candles were to be lit, seven on the second day, and so on down to one candle.

Hanukkah became a celebration of a military victory, with the Macabees (known as the Hasmoneans) coming into power.  They became both the high Priests and the political leaders.  And sadly, as so often happens in history, the Hasmoneans became hopelessly corrupt.  The Rabbis of the Talmudic period, facing a popular eight day celebration of a military victory, felt the need to reconstruct the festival.

Story #2 - The Rabbis' version.  Jewish tradition teaches that war is sometimes a necessary evil.  But we do not celebrate military victories.  Even when we are victorious, it is God’s children who were defeated.  Even our enemies were created in the image of God.  We remove wine from one of our cups on Passover to diminish our joy for each plague suffered by the Egyptians.  According to the Midrash, God stopped the angels from singing from singing hymns of praise while the Egyptians were drowning in the sea.  We shorten the Hallel on the final days of Passover in recognition of the Egyptian suffering.

Perhaps the idea that we do not celebrate war was best put in a famous line by the late Prime Minister of Israel Golda Meir, "I can forgive the Arabs for killing our children.  But I cannot forgive the Arabs for turning our children into killers."

For the Rabbis, Hanukkah as a military victory was unacceptable.  Hanukkah became instead the story of a miracle, of God's presence in the rededicated Temple.   Hundreds of years after the original events, a new story developed, the story of enough oil for one day that burned for eight days.  Hanukkah became a celebration of God=s miracle, not man's military might.  And to drive the idea home, every synagogue in the world chants on Hanukkah, "Not by might and not by power but by my spirit says the Lord."  (Zachariah 4:6)

Story #3 - I met a young woman who is a practicing pagan, keeping ancient Wicchan and Celtic traditions.  She was about to celebrate Yule, an all night vigil lit by candles during the night of the winter solstice.  The whole pagan ritual reminded me of a Midrash regarding the first man Adam.  When the sun went down on the sixth night of creation, Adam starting to weep and fast.  "The world is darkening for me."  When the sun arose the next day, Adam offered special offerings.  "Such is the way of nature and I did not even realize it."  (Avoda Zara 8a)

The idea is universal.  On the darkest night of the year, in the pagan world, they lit lights.  Our Christian neighbors decorate their trees and their homes with lights.  And we Jews light lights each night, following the dictate of Hillel to go up in number and not down in number.  We light one the first light the first night, two the second, right on to eight.

The real story of Hanukkah is a universal human story.  When things look darkest, we humans need to light lights.  When we are down in a pit as Joseph was, we will someday be lifted out to stand before Pharaoh.  The darkness is temporary.

Hanukkah is the story of the light chasing away the darkness. The days will get longer and the nights shorter.  The particular story may be Jewish but the theme is universal.  That is why we light our lights in a public place, so passers-by of all faiths can see them.  Hanukkah is about faith and hope.  It is a story we humans need to retell over and over. 

 

 

PARSHAT MIKETZ

(5763)

 

THIS TOO SHALL PASS

 

“Thereupon Pharaoh sent for Joseph, and he was rushed from the dungeon.  He had his hair cut and changed his clothes, and he appeared before Pharaoh.”

(Genesis 41:14)

 

A wise person once said that everybody should carry a card in his or her pocket with one saying to take out at the appropriate time.

When things are going well, when we are facing good times, in order to avoid taking these events for granted, in order to appreciate what we have and to better prepare for the future, in order to gain perspective, we should take out a card which says, “This Too Shall Pass.”

And when things are not going well, when everything appears bleak and hopelessness overwhelms us, in order to avoid despair and regain our faith, we should take out a card, which says, "This Too Shall Pass."

Life is a cycle of good times and bad times.  Happiness does not last forever and neither does sadness.  This portion, which most years is read during Hanukkah, teaches this lesson in a powerful way.

At the beginning of last week’s portion Joseph was on top, the favored brother, haughty as he paraded in his coat of many colors.  Then suddenly he found himself in an empty pit, soon to be sold down to Egypt as a slave.  In Egypt he went from being a slave in Potiphar’s home to being second in command, highly respected and lacking nothing in his master’s household.  By the end of last week’s portion he was back in the pit, a forgotten man languishing in the dungeon.

Then from the heights of despair, Joseph was removed from the pit, allowed to shave and change his clothes before he was brought to Pharaoh.  He would soon become the second most powerful man in all of Egypt.   Frank Sinatra put it well:  “That's life (that's life), that's what all the people say; You're ridin' high in April, shot down in May.”  Every life has ups and downs, heights and depths.  It helps to keep perspective when we read “This Too Shall Pass.”

In this week’s reading, Pharaoh dreamt of seven fat cows symbolizing seven years of plenty.  Then seven scrawny cows came out to swallow the fat cows, symbolizing seven years of famine.  Joseph told Pharaoh to use the years of plenty to set aside crops for the years of famine.  So it is, when things are going well, we must prepare for the harder times.  Preparation is more than simply financial, setting aside money, buying insurance, saving for the harder time.  Preparation is also a spiritual preparation.  We use the good times to learn to pray and express gratitude, hoping that these spiritual disciplines will help us during the hard times.

This week’s portion is usually read on Hanukkah.  (This year it is the second Shabbat of Hanukkah.)  Hanukkah comes during the darkest, gloomiest time of the year.  Days are short and nights are cold.  We light one light in our window, and then following the dictate of the great sage Hillel, we increase our light each night.   When the dark times come, we push aside the darkness with light.  This symbolizes the prayer that happier, brighter times are ahead

Life is a cycle of good and bad, joy and sorrow, happy times and sad times, success and failure, hope and despair.  At the happy times, let us prepare spiritually as Joseph did in Egypt, because we know that “These Too Shall Pass.” So too, when we are overwhelmed by the gloom of despair, we should allow a light to shine in our soul with the thought that “This Too Shall Pass.”

PARSHAT MIKETZ

(5762)

 

TWO STORIES OF HANUKKAH

 

“The ugly gaunt cows ate up the seven handsome sturdy cows, and Pharaoh awoke.”                                (Genesis 41:4)

 

There are two stories of Hanukkah.  One is the story we have all learned since childhood.  The other is the real story.

The real story is about the war of the Maccabees, which began as a civil war between two groups of Jews.  One group preferred the Hellenistic ways of their Syrian-Greek rulers.  The Maccabees were those Jews faithful to the traditions of their ancestors.  What began as a war of Jew versus Jew became a war of Jews faithful to their tradition versus their Greek rulers.

The victory was the few against the many.  Like the seven skinny scrawny cows who swallowed the seven fat healthy cows in Pharaoh’s dream, a small band of guerilla warriors overcame an army much stronger than themselves. 

After their victory, the Maccabees cleaned the Temple in Jerusalem which had been defiled by their Syrian Greek rulers.  They then declared an eight day celebration, most likely a belated celebration of the festival of Sukkot which they were unable to observe at the proper time while on the battlefield.  This eight day celebration of an unexpected military victory became a popular celebration among the Jewish people.

The real Hanukkah story is about a military victory, the rededication of the Temple, and an eight day belated celebration of Sukkot.  The miracle was the defeat of the many by the few, the strong by the weak.

As children we all learned a second Hanukkah story.  The military victory was downplayed.  The miracle took place in the Temple in Jerusalem.  There was only enough oil for the Menorah with the proper seal of the High Priest to last for a brief period of time.  The oil continued to burn for eight days, until replacement oil could be procured.  The Menorah kept burning, because God did not allow the lights to go out.  The story became one of God’s light burning without oil.

To drive home the non-military emphasis of the festival, the Rabbis chose a portion from the Prophets (haftarah) to be read in every synagogue on the Shabbat of Hanukkah.  It contains the words, “Not by might and not by power but by my spirit says the Lord.”   (Zechariah 4:6) 

The message of the Rabbis is clear.  Hanukkah is a celebration of a light that would not go out; of a God who will not desert His people.  The military aspect of the holiday was downplayed or ignored altogether.  The entire focus of the festival shifted from the battlefield to the lit Menorah in the Temple.

There is a powerful lesson for today as both America and Israel go to war against their enemies.  We do not celebrate military victories.  Sometimes war is a necessity.  When our enemy comes to slay us, we must rise up and slay them first.  But during a war, even an obligatory war of self defense, innocent people are slain.  There is a sadness in war and an ongoing dream of peace.  Even when we are victorious, it is with an overwhelming sense of relief, not with celebration.

So at this Hanukkah season, let us celebrate.  But the emphasis is not on the defeat of our foes, but rather a celebration of God Who does not let the lights go out.

 

PARSHAT MIKETZ

(5761)

 

CHILDREN WHO ABANDON PARENTS

 

“Their father Jacob said to them, it is always me that you bereave.  Joseph is no more and Simeon is no more and now you would take away Benjamin.  These things always happen to me.”                                              (Genesis 42:36)

 

We begin this portion with Joseph lingering in prison.  We end this portion years later, with Joseph the second most powerful man in Egypt.  All this time, Joseph’s father Jacob thought he was dead.  Years had gone by, and Joseph made no attempt to contact his father.

One hears the plaintive cry of Jacob.  “Joseph is no more and Simeon is no more.”  Both sons were alive when these words were spoken.  Still, they were out of touch.  There are few things more heart rending for parents than for their children to cut off contact.

How often have I dealt with this issue here in Florida.  Parents come to me crying that they have lost all contact with their children.  I remember calling a man to inform him after years of no contact that his mother died.  His words to me were chilling, “Rabbi, thanks for calling.  But I am not interested.”  Occasionally parents are so abusive, so destructive, that children have no choice but to cut off contact for their own survival.  But those cases are relatively rare.  Most of the time children cut off contact, it is due to petty fights over money, over family, over parents' attempts to control their children and children’s attempts to break away from their parents.

The Torah teaches that there is to be a link between generations.  “Honor your father and mother.” (Exodus 20:12) was so central to the Biblical outlook that it became part of the Ten Commandments.  The mitzvah to honor parents is not only for those who have wonderful loving parents, but even those who have difficult, controlling parents.  We are not commanded to love our parents, nor are we commanded to obey our parents.  We are commanded to honor them.

Why should there be a link between the generations?  As I have written before, the Torah wants us to rise above the animal kingdom and live as beings created in the image of God.  In the animal kingdom, the role of a parent is biological.  When a baby animal is conceived, the role of the father is finished.  When a baby animal is weaned, the role of the mother is finished.  There is no link between generations beyond procreation.  Animals live as independent agents with no connection either to those who came before or those who will come afterwards.  Not so human beings!

For humans, parenting is far more than biological; it is a spiritual link.  Each generation builds on the wisdom of the previous generation.  Each stands on the shoulder of the ones who came before.  There is a chain that stretches back to our ancestors and reaches forward to our descendants.  When we honor our parents, we are recognizing that we are part of that chain.  There is something greater than our individual existence.

We humans are created in the image of God.  And it is over the course of generations that God's work is done.  As the Christian theologian Reinhold Niebuhr wrote, “Nothing worth doing is completed in our lifetime, therefore we must be saved by hope.”  We are obligated to maintain that link, to learn wisdom from our parents and grandparents, and pass on wisdom to our children and grandchildren.

Why did Joseph not contact his father?  Surely, in his position of power in Egypt he had the means.  Perhaps he was angry with his father, blaming him for the events that led to his slavery in Egypt.  Perhaps he felt his father should have stopped the brothers.  Or perhaps he was comfortable in his new setting, and contacting his father was too much bother.

Whether from anger or complacency, too many children cut off contact with parents.  They bring immeasurable pain to the people who raised and nurtured them, and increase the sadness in the world.  If you are in this position, I urge you B pick up the phone and call.