Between Knowing and Not Knowing

A Hasidic story.

A student approached her rebbe and asked, “How can one tell when a new day has arrived?”

The rebbe turned the question around and said to her student, “Why don’t you tell me how you might know when a new day has arrived.”

At first the student was surprised, but then offered a hesitant answer, “When the rooster crows to signal a new dawn?” (And my seventh graders add, “When Siri tells me it is dawn.”) The rebbe answered, “No.”

“When the sun peers through my window. “No,” the rebbe responded.

“When the sky begins to glow, and I can first discern the silhouettes of the trees against the sky?” The rebbe answered again, “No!”

And then in her wisdom, the rebbe said, “The surest way to know when the night is over and a new day has dawned is when you can look into the face of another person, especially one who is a stranger and one who is different from you and come to know him as your brother and her as your sister.” Until that moment, it will always be night.

The Torah reports: “A new king arose over Egypt who did not know Joseph.” (Exodus 1)

And night descends upon Egypt. Our oppression begins. The distinction between day and night is that thin.

It is that thin line between knowing and not knowing that leads to enslavement. But then God hears our cries. Our sufferings become known to God. The Israelites are freed from slavery. Our Passover celebrations are ensured. The distinction between day and night, however, remains in our hands.

It is found in the face of a stranger.

Peace Is the Greatest Gift

Before dying, Jacob gathers his reunited family together for a final blessing. The Torah adds, “Jacob lived seventeen years in the land of Egypt.” (Genesis 47) And how old was Joseph when his brothers sold him into slavery years earlier? Seventeen.

The commentators notice this symmetry. Jacob enjoyed the same number of years living with his son in Egypt as Joseph did living with his father in Canaan. What are we to make of this symmetry? The years of Joseph’s youth when Jacob showered extra love on him are perfectly balanced by these final seventeen years living by his father Jacob’s bedside.

The tradition adds: “These seventeen years were the best years of Jacob’s life – years of prosperity, goodness and peace; his other 130 years were filled with toil and pain.”

Why were the best years of his life spent in Egypt? How could Jacob enjoy any place but the ideal land of Israel? The commentators suggest that the answer must be that he studied Torah in Egypt and thereby redeemed its pagan influences. I think the answer is far more obvious.

So why was Jacob so happy? In Egypt his family was once again whole. His sons have forgiven each other. Now they each have flourishing families of their own. Jacob can enjoy the comforts his son has amassed. He can relish in the joys of grandchildren. In Egypt he, and his entire family, have discovered a tranquility that eluded them in Canaan.

The lesson is clear. Shalom bayit, peace in the home, is more prized than even the most cherished of locations. It is a blessing that eluded our patriarch Jacob. The majority of his life his family is beset by conflict. Now he has found shalom. And he discovers it no less in Egypt!

Peace between siblings, love between parents and children, is the greatest blessing of all. We need not venture to a sacred destination to discover this blessing. It is always nearby.

May shalom be found in our lives and in our homes.

Don’t Embarrass Others

After years of discord Joseph and his brothers finally make up.

This week the moment arrives when Joseph reveals himself and offers forgiveness. He pushes aside the painful memory of when his brothers almost killed him but instead sell him into slavery. They cast aside the moments and when Joseph bragged to them that their father loved him the most.

Now the brothers stand before Joseph, pleading for their brother Benjamin, but still unaware of Joseph’s identity. They appear to have changed. They are no longer the jealous lot who conspired against him.

Joseph’s emotions overtake him, and he can no longer hold back his tears. He cries out, “Have everyone withdraw from me!” Joseph said to his brothers, “I am your brother Joseph, he whom you sold into Egypt.” (Genesis 45)

The commentators ask why Joseph insisted that only his brothers remain in the room when he reveals himself. Is it because this moment of reconciliation is so intimate that it can only be shared by family? No outsider should witness it. The tradition suggests even more. Joseph does not want to shame his brothers. He is a mensch.

Rabbi Samuel bar Nahman remarks: Joseph placed himself in an extremely precarious position, for if his brothers had killed him, not a single person would have been aware of it. Why did he then say: “Have everyone withdraw from me!”? It is because Joseph said to himself: “I would rather die than shame my brothers before the Egyptians.” (Midrash Tanchuma Vayigash)

The tradition is emphatic about the need to avoid shaming others. Although wrongdoers deserve rebuke, they do not deserve embarrassment. Joseph’s brothers must acknowledge their wrongdoing. They must show that they have changed and that they would no longer harm someone, especially a family member. They do not need to be shamed.

Too often we confuse public shaming with the acknowledgment of wrongdoing. Public officials release press releases apologizing for their wrongs. They are shamed in the press but avoid saying “I’m sorry” to the individuals they have wronged.

Saying “I’m sorry,” however, is best done privately and between the people seeking repair.

Making amends is best kept within the family. It is not about the larger group. It is about the individuals.