In this week’s Parsha, Vayiggash, Yosef finally reveals his identity to his brothers. “I am Yosef,” he tells them. The brothers are in shock. Taken by surprise, they are unable to respond. They remain silent, scared, and perhaps consumed with guilt: 22 years ago, they sold Yosef into slavery and faked his death to their father. Now, Yosef, aware of his brothers’ remorse and in an incomparable display of nobility and altruism, comforts them and says, “It was not you who sold me to Egypt; it was God who directed me here.” Some might think that Yosef is telling his brothers a white lie so they don’t feel bad. However, Yosef’s words delve deeper than a mere diplomatic charade. Yosef, whose life was a roller coaster of unpredictable events—though with a happy ending—understood that human beings are merely pieces in a grand chess game.
Jorge Luis Borges wrote that the chess pieces believe they move at will. “They do not know that the designated hand of the player governs their destiny; they do not know that an adamantine rigor dictates their will and journey.” On the chessboard of life, the Creator is the invisible Grand Master who moves the pieces. But unlike in chess, in the game of life, we humans are conscious players and, ironically, possess free will: we’re responsible for the actions we choose. Divine intervention happens, but without undermining human choice. This dynamic between human free will and Divine intervention is among the most intricate debates in Jewish philosophy. Some rabbis regard this as what Jewish mysticism terms “ma’ase merkaba,” an experience we all share, but its true nature eludes our understanding. Sometimes, as time passes, we come to comprehend an event or its beneficial purpose. Given this perspective, one can ponder the divine reasoning behind Yosef’s relocation to Egypt, which eventually led to the arrival of his entire family, the budding “people of Israel”, in the land of the Pharaohs. It is commonly argued that God sent Yosef to Egypt to save it from famine, a sentiment Yosef himself echoes.
A sixteenth-century Italian commentator, Ribbi Obadia Seforno, offered a unique take on this. According to Seforno, the sons of Ya’aqob, ironically, were on the brink of assimilating among the Canaanites in Israel. For instance, Yehuda, the fourth brother and the leader of the siblings, took a Canaanite woman as his wife and also chose a Canaanite wife for his son. The commentator Eben Ezra noted that Isaac and Ya’aqob sought brides from the distant Syrian city of Haran, not despite, but because of its idolatry: a woman arriving from afar, without her family, might not bring a negative “religious” influence upon her new family. Rather, detached from her past, she would likely adopt the monotheistic values of Abraham, Isaac, and Ya’aqob. Had Isaac or Ya’aqob married locally like Esav, the pervasive influence of their wives’ families might have overshadowed Abraham’s teachings. Now, with Ya’aqob’s sons marrying Canaanite women, there was a risk they would deviate from Abraham’s path, putting the future of the Israelites and Abraham’s faith in jeopardy.
Seforno argued that in Egypt, away from the influence of Canaanite in-laws, the family would reinforce their ancestral values. The stark cultural differences between the Egyptians and the Semitic societies would act as a protective barrier. For instance, the Egyptians considered animals like rams sacred, and they refrained from consuming their meat. This reverence clashed with the shepherding lifestyle of Yosef’s brothers, who raised and consumed these animals. Seforno believed that these cultural and religious disparities prevented the children of Israel from mingling with the Egyptians. This is evidenced when Yosef informs Pharaoh about his family’s arrival and their profession as shepherds, requesting a distinct living area for them. In granting this, Pharaoh allowed the Israelites to live separately, preserving their unique identity.
The brothers’ decision to sell Yosef indirectly led to their move to Egypt. Seforno suggests that this series of events, albeit originating from flawed choices, eventually safeguarded the Israelites from potential assimilation in Canaan. Thus, during their formative years in Egypt, the children of Israel forged their distinct identity, separate from the Egyptians and Canaanites. The rabbis conveyed this with a phrase from the Haggadah: מלמד שהיו מצויינים שם, meaning that in Egypt, the Jews maintained their unique identity. Although responsible for selling Yosef, his brothers inadvertently ensured the survival of their lineage. Yosef’s foresight in asking for a separate dwelling further shielded them from assimilating into Egyptian culture. Ironically, it was in Egypt where Ya’aqob’s family evolved into the people of Israel. This divine plan can be traced back to God’s promise to Abraham: his descendants would venture to Egypt, endure hardships, and eventually return to Israel – a majestic chess game that spanned 400 years.
