In preparation for the Parashah that we will read tomorrow morning—Yitro—which describes the celebration of the Covenant between God and the Jewish people at Mount Sinai (Ma‘amad Har Sinai), and the presentation of the Ten Commandments as part of that covenant, we are analyzing the First Commandment:

“I am HaShem, your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, from the house of slavery.”

Yesterday we explained the first part of this verse. We noted that this commandment consists of accepting God as our Sovereign (Elohim) and reminds us of our commitment to conduct our lives according to His laws. We also clarified that, in Judaism, faith in God cannot be reduced to a verbal declaration; rather, it is expressed primarily through what we do about God—recognizing Him, loving Him, and obeying Him.

Today we will examine the second part of the verse:

“I am your God… who brought you out of the land of Egypt, from the house of slavery.”

God does not introduce Himself as “the Creator of heaven and earth,” but rather as the One “who brought us out of Egypt.”

Why?

CREATOR OR LIBERATOR?

First of all, by mentioning Egypt, it becomes clear that these Commandments are not of universal scope, but are directed specifically to the people who suffered slavery and were miraculously redeemed from it.

At this point, it is worth clarifying a common misconception. Many people assume that the Ten Commandments constitute a universal legal code. However, from a formal and technical perspective, the Bible identifies the Seven Noahide Laws as the universal moral code for all humanity. Four (or five) of those laws closely resemble commandments found in the Ten Commandments—prohibitions against murder, theft, idolatry, adultery and incest, and blasphemy.

This distinction becomes clearer when we consider historical context. The Seven Laws are associated with the covenant God made with Noah and his descendants—all humankind—after the Flood. The Ten Commandments, by contrast, are presented within the framework of a covenant with a specific nation, Israel, which formally commits itself not to ten laws, but to 613 commandments.

OUT OF PHARAOH’S JURISDICTION

There may be another reason why God introduces Himself as the One who brought Israel out of Egypt rather than as the Creator of the world.

This covenant takes place only seven weeks after the Exodus—less than two months after leaving Egypt. The Jewish people had lived for generations under Pharaoh’s rule. Pharaoh and his officers were the only authority they had ever known.

God reminds them that their situation has fundamentally changed. They are no longer in Egypt, no longer under Pharaoh’s jurisdiction.
“You do not have to obey him anymore. You are out of Egypt—in the desert, in no man’s land—now under Divine authority.”

To fully grasp the contrast between God and Pharaoh in this verse, we must remember that Pharaoh ruled through coercion, forcing his Jewish subjects to serve him. God, by contrast, offers the Jewish people a covenant—freely entered into—based on mutual responsibilities and commitments.

In this way, the Torah indirectly but unmistakably condemns slavery, tyranny, and the arrogance of those who impose their will by force upon others.

SELECTIVE MEMORY

Finally, let us consider why the verse explicitly describes Egypt as “the house of slavery.”

Even today, for many people—especially those who do not live in the Middle East—Egypt evokes images of grandeur and fascination: Giza and its pyramids, the Valley of the Kings, Tutankhamun, the Nile. At the time of the Torah, Egypt was already famous for its splendor, wealth, architectural achievements, and imperial power. It was the world’s superpower.

The Torah warns us against romanticizing Egypt.
“Remember,” it says, “that in that beautiful land you were slaves.”

The Greek historian Herodotus records that around 600 BCE—some 800 years after Moshe—a Pharaoh undertook massive construction projects. Herodotus reports that 120,000 slaves died during that endeavor. We have no historical record of how many Jews died building for Pharaoh in Moshe’s time (although a well-known Midrash relates that when bricks were lacking, the Egyptians used the bodies of Jewish children).

By describing Egypt as “the house of slavery,” the Torah guards us against selective memory. It teaches us that when we admire the pyramids, we must not forget the human cost at which they were built.

Shemot 10:21, HaShem said to Moshe, “Stretch out your hand toward the sky so that darkness spreads over Egypt—darkness that can be felt. 22 Moses stretched out his hand toward the sky, and total darkness covered all of Egypt for three days.  23. No one could see anyone else or move about for three days….

This week’s Parasha describes the last three plagues that struck Egypt and ended up twisting the arm of Pharaoh, who ultimately freed the Jews from Egypt.  I would like to write today about the Ninth Plague, choshekh “darkness.” First, to understand the nature of this plague, and second, to examine the function of this and the previous eight plagues in the context of the story of the Exodus. If you are a Harry Potter fan, you might feel a little disappointed about the plagues. Moshe is not coming on a flying carpet to see Pharaoh. He is not transforming the Egyptian monarch into a frog. And is not bringing upon Egypt an invasion of seven-headed snakes. All the plagues are, seemingly,  “natural phenomena”, events that could have occurred naturally in Egypt.   Let’s analyze, for example, the plague of darkness. What type of phenomena caused this darkness? The Biblical text describes it as tangible, a darkness that can be felt. The text also implies that this state of darkness literally paralyzed Egypt: people could not see each other from a close distance, so no one left his home for three days.  Whatever caused this darkness, the Tora is not describing here merely the absence of light. Rabbi Abraham Eben Ezra says that the Ninth Plague might have been produced by a very thick, intense fog coming from the Nile.  Incidentally, I experienced this type of fog when I visited the forests of Monteverde in Costa Rica. Unlike the absence of light, the darkness produced by heavy fog is tangible, a zero visibility that you can physically feel and “touch.” Precisely as the biblical text describes this plague.  This won’t be the case, for example, if darkness was a product of a solar eclipse. 

MY FAVORITE CANDIDATE FOR DARKNESS
A few years ago, when I was living in Israel, I was driving my old light-blue Subaru car from Jerusalem to Dimona, and to shorten the way, I did not use the regular safe highway:  I turned east, circumventing Mount Hebron and some Arab villages in somewhat desert areas. And then, I got caught in a sandstorm. It was noon, but I could not see a thing, not a foot ahead of me.  I slowed down, and then I turned on the car’s lights. Serious mistake! Far from illuminating the route, my car’s lights were reflected in the “sandstorm”, and it dazzled me directly in the eyes. So to be able to see anything, I had to turn off the light!  I had to stop my car in the middle of nowhere. B”H the storm was short, and I don’t think it was as severe as the one in Egypt… But it helped me understand better that light is useless for this type of darkness and that thick, tangible darkness could disrupt normal life and paralyze people.   Sand storms and dust storms are prevalent in the Middle East and other areas of the world. This awesome video shows a dust storm that affected Oklahoma and other areas in 1935. This footage is priceless because it mentions this climate event as a “plague” (I don’t think there is any deliberate allusion to Egypt or the Bible here). It also mentions that it felt like midnight, with zero visibility, in the brightness of the day. Thirdly, same as in Egypt,  people could not move; they had to crawl to seek shelter. All this corresponds verbatim to the Biblical text description of the plague of darkness.

THE TORA vs. LORD VOLDEMORT

The Tora tells us explicitly the reason for the Makkot. וידעו מצרים כי-אני ה ‘ בנטתי את-ידי על-מצרים והוצאתי את-בני-ישראל, מתוכם. “So the Egyptians would know that I’m HaShem”. But this still begs the question of precisely what the Egyptians needed to know. That HaShem can perform magic better than the Egyptian wizards? In my opinion, the ultimate goal of the plagues was for the Egyptians –and for the Jews– is the evidence that HaShem is the Creator and that He alone is in control of nature. How so? 

Nature unleashes its power indiscriminately and without warning.  But the plagues of Egypt were different. They were not natural events but rather the handiwork of a higher power; the true God is in complete control of nature. He, through the agency of Moses, decided when each plague would begin and how long it would last. The plagues were also intelligently designed, each serving a specific purpose. For example, the plague of locusts was designed to destroy all the green leaves in Egypt, while the previous plague of hail left them untouched. Nature is blind: an earthquake won’t spare children or innocent people. Nature does not have the capacity to make moral selections. What makes the plagues different and unique (and Divine) is that they were visibly under God’s control. God, thru the agency of Moshe, decided when the plague would start and how long it would last. And what sets the plagues apart from nature even more, is that they affected only the Egyptians and not the Israelites. This is explicitly mentioned in several plagues, such as the pestilence that struck the Egyptian animals and the darkness that did not affect the Israelites’ place of residence. This level of precision and selectivity can only be achieved by a Creator who is deliberately engineering these special effects. 

Unlike natural forces, represented by the Egyptian gods,  the Creator “selects”, making a plague affecting one sector of the population and not the other. Thus, the God of Israel demonstrates that he can direct his power and affect only a specific target, something that blind nature cannot do.  This selective power is more present in the Tenth and last plague than in any other plague. The last plague affected the firstborn. Now, there is nothing physical or biological in an individual’s body by which a scientist can determine that this person was born first or second from his mother.  Only the Creator, and nothing in Nature,  can identify who was born first. Second, God ordered the Hebrews to mark their homes with blood, and then, God would spare those homes against the lethal plague. This selective effect of a plague cannot be attributed to magic or the work of any natural phenomena.

The plagues of Egypt were not random acts of nature but rather the finely tuned instruments of a Creator who was using them to accomplish His plan.

See this article about a monster dust storm in Australia, 2020

https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2020/jan/20/huge-dust-storms-hit-central-new-south-wales

See also this. Oklahoma, 1935

The Bible, Biblical archeology, and ancient Jewish history are taught in the Jewish academic world. But there is a phenomenon that is not much talked about: the “oedipal” relationship between many Jewish scholars and the texts they teach. In this relationship, the Jewish text (representing its Author) is the father that must be removed. The preferred way to eliminate these texts is to render them a myth, which is done by questioning their credibility and historical value. This anti-text attitude, de and I say this with great pain, is characteristic of most Israeli universities and professors, except for Bar Ilan University and some other universities worldwide. In the eyes of these scholars, “the biblical text is false until otherwise proven,” something none of them bothers to do. Something similar happens with the “interpretations” given to archaeological discoveries, which always point toward the same direction: denying the historicity of our Tora. The reasons for this pathetic attitude towards Jewish sources do not pertain to history or archeology but to the psychology department. It is part of Jewish self-hatred, a self-destructive attitude that manifests itself in several ways.
Today I want to present—and disprove—a couple of famous examples of this academic rhetoric.

This Shabbat, we will begin reading the book of Shemot, Exodus. And we will get closer to the founding history of the Jewish people: the exit from Egypt. The Oedipal Jews claim that the Exodus from Egypt did not happen. A few years ago, a conservative rabbinical leader, David Wolpe, who heads a large Sephardic community in Los Angeles, California, made a famous statement before his large congregation on the Passover holiday: “The departure from Egypt is not a historical fact: it is a myth”, he stated (see here ).
The implications of this claim are tremendous: if the Jewish founding story is false, the Tora is not a book dictated by God, but a mythological text, without credibility or relevance. If the Bible is not Divine, why should I care what some mythical writers wrote 3,500 years ago?

To deny the Exodus, Wolpe relied on the words of the head of the archeology department at Tel Aviv University, Israel Finkelstein, “the Jews were not in Egypt, the captivity did not exist, the Exodus never happened.” What compelling evidence was used to disprove the Biblical account of the exodus from Egypt? What arguments led Finkelstein and others to such a tremendous and far-reaching assertion? “The absence of archaeological remains,” Finkelstein said. If 2 or 3 million people had wandered through the desert for 40 years, we would have to find, for example, clay pots from that journey. And nothing was found!

Two elements make this argument academically untenable. First, there is a golden rule: “Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence”, “that no material evidence is found about something, is not enough evidence that that event did not exist .”It is like questioning the historicity of the discovery of America because the archaeological remains of the Pinta, the Niña, and the Santa Maria were never found. But there is a second argument to debunk this ridiculous claim that is even more solid and definitive.

“[Wolpe and others] claim that the Sinai desert has been searched and no evidence has been found of the mass of millions of people the Bible says they were there for 40 years. That statement is not true. There have been few major excavations at Sinai, and it certainly could have been traced back more… Uncovering objects buried 3,200 years ago is an impossible task, especially in the Sinai desert. An Israeli colleague told me with a laugh that a vehicle that had been lost in the Yom Kippur war in 1973 was recently discovered under 16 meters of sand! In 40 years, 16 meters of sand have accumulated! ” [Elliot Friedman]. Think how many kilometers of sand you would have to dig to start looking for something!

And here I ask myself again: is this simple problem not known or considered by Someone like Finkelstein or Wolpe? Or perhaps they know the claim is ridiculous, and they still say it because they assume their audience isn’t knowledgeable in the topography of the Sinai desert? (On other the possible motives of Finkelstein and other Israeli archaeologists to deny Biblical history, see note below *). I hope it is now clearer why I described this anti-text attitude as “Oedipal.”

A second argument, also not very solid, to deny the historicity of the exodus is that the number of Jews who left Egypt, according to the Tora, was 603,550 men over the age of 20 and their respective families. “This number is impossible to accept,” said the nihilists. And why is it impossible to accept?
Let’s listen to the experts: “Someone calculated long ago that if that number of people, [2.5 million] were marching through the desert… Then when the first ones reached Sinai, half the people would still be in Egypt!”
In other words, it is impossible to conceive that a human mass of 2 million people moves and mobilizes in an area extending for 150 or 200 km.

And I must confess that I only realized the lack of merits of this argument when Argentina became the Soccer World Champion! I saw the photos and videos of the human tide in Buenos Aires, between 3 and 5 million people, depending on the newspaper one reads, moving along the 9 de Julio street and the Ricchieri Highway, an area of about 15 or 20 km and relatively narrow. I confess that the first thing that came to my mind when I saw those videos was that—keeping the distance between the two events—I was witnessing the image of a human group whose number was similar to that of the Exodus from Egypt! I understood what King Balaq said then when he saw the multitudes of Israel from the top of the mountain and declared: hine khisa et ‘en haarets, that is, “these people are so numerous that they have covered the surface of the earth”, that is, from the mountain, Balaq could not see even an empty stretch of land. As in the image of the human tide on 9 de julio avenue last Sunday, December 18th. When I saw those photos, I think I visualized for the first time a more realistic image of the exodus from Egypt, which perhaps we tend to think of as a cartoon-like fantasy. These images helped me better understand the epic magnitude of Yetsiat Mitsrayim and our people’s incredible 40-year journey in the desert.

https://youtu.be/EganXXmbvto

* Bryant Wood, director of the Associates for Biblical Research in Maryland, argued that the evidence falls into place if the story is dated back to 1450 BC. He said that indications of destruction around that time at Hazor, Jericho, and a site he is excavating that he believes is the biblical city of Ai support accounts of Joshua’s conquests.
He also cited the documented presence of “Asiatic” slaves in Egypt who could have been Israelites and said they would not have left evidence of their wanderings because they were nomads with no material culture. But Wood said he couldn’t get his research published in serious archeological journals. “There’s a definite anti-Bible bias,” Wood said. The revisionist view, however, is not necessarily publicly popular. Herzog, Finklestein, and others have been attacked for everything from faulty logic to pro-Palestinian political agendas that undermine Israel’s land claims.

LIVE LIKE MORTALS

The idea of death has always fascinated me. In my teens, becoming my conscious of my own mortality and its hopeless inevitability made me think more deeply about life and the purpose of my existence. Far from scaring me, the idea that we are mortal indirectly brought me closer to the Creator and the Tora . It was Ribbi Meir’s (טוב מות) explanation of how mortality confers “purpose” to life, and an invaluable metaphor by Borges –in the story “The Immortals”– that delves into the difference between hours (or days) and the coins. The coins are identical, one and the other; they are replaceable, interchangeable, and fully recoverable. Time, however, cannot be recovered or replaced. The hours or the days are not the same because, unlike the coins, the days expire; they “pass away”. A day that passed is a day that died that will not be repeated and will never return.

THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF TIME

We can correct many errors and faults. If we take someone else’s money, for example, eventually, we can replace it. But there is no way to make up for the lost time. It is impossible to rectify a wasted day. Borrowing a biblical metaphor, זה ספר תולדות אדם, our life is like a book, a notebook that we write – that writes itself, as it says in “untane toqef” – with every action we perform. Many books are full of flawed pages, mistakes we make over and over again. But if we do Teshuba, if we repent, we can correct them, make amends. A notebook with corrections is not a bad notebook. The “terrible” notebook has many “empty” pages. Days, weeks and months are blank because we did not do anything relevant that is worth registering in our book of life. I believe there is no worse way to face death than to feel that our life is an empty notebook. That we waste time surviving and forget to live with meaning. That is the only death that should horrify us. The one that comes after a life lived in vain.

DEATH WITH EGYPTIAN EYES

This week’s Parashah is mainly devoted to the description of the death of our patriarch Jacob. The emphasis of the biblical story, judging by the number of verses that the Tora dedicates to each topic, is focused on the shock and mourning that was experienced in Egypt when Yosef’s father died. In the delicate negotiations between Yosef and Pharaoh so that his father could be buried in the land of Israel, as he had requested before he died, in the preservation, mummification, and transfer of Jacob’s body; his funeral; the impressive procession that accompanied him and his monumental burial. The Biblical text says little about the moment of his death. But the Midrash makes up for it with so much depth, beauty, and realism. Making it clear that Ya’akob Abinu’s life was significant, and thus, he faced his death without fear.

DIE SATISFIED

The Torah tells us that at the time of his death, our patriarch was in his bed, fully conscious, and surrounded by his children and possibly his grandchildren, his great-grandchildren. Awareness of the last moments of life is a “privilege” that most patients cannot access today. In its quest to prolong life and reduce pain, modern medicine means that very few patients “expire” conscious, alert to the end, and surrounded by their loved ones instead of being surrounded by machines, tubes, and wires. (On this very delicate subject, I recommend the book “Being Mortal” by Dr. Atul Gawande). The Midrash enriches the description of the death of our patriarch by providing an exquisite detail. Before he died, Ya’aqob wanted to ensure that all his children followed his path: that they were, and would continue to be, loyal to the Abrahamic covenant and that none had abandoned or intended to abandon the way of the Almighty. We cannot blame Ya’aqob for his suspicions. Abraham and Yitzchaq had sons who strayed from their fathers’ paths and assimilated into their wives’ families. In the last minutes of his life, with the last of his remaining strength, Ya’aqob asks his children – he needs to know – if they will continue on his way. The Wise Men reconstruct that profound final dialogue between the dying father and his sons: Jacob asks them if he has any doubts about the existence of God, unique and invisible, Creator of heaven and earth. The response of his children could not have been better. : “SHEMA ISRAEL HASHEM ELOQENU HASHEM EJAD”. “Listen, Israel [our father, Jacob’s new name. All of us, your children, affirm that ] HaShem is our God and that HaShem is one”.

WHEN DEATH IS NOT SCARY

Jacob, on his deathbed, ends his life hearing from his sons the official declaration of Jewish principles, which is also the pledge of allegiance to Judaism that his descendants express daily. At that moment, Jacob realizes that his ongoing hardships and suffering—147 years of struggle literally from the womb—had not been in vain. In the last minutes of his life, Yaaqob realizes that his family, “the children of Israel”, united physically and spiritually, are now ready for the next step: becoming the people of Israel. The Tsadiqim, the just men and women, prepare all their lives to die like this. To leave this world with the incomparable existential satisfaction of feeling that your life has not been in vain.

This Shabbat we will finish reading the book of Bereshit (Genesis). The first of the five books of the Tora includes a fascinating story, between the lines of the main narrative, which is worth analyzing. It is about fraternity, the relationship between brothers. Throughout Bereshit this relationship develops and evolves, from murder to harmony.

FROM BROTHERHOOD TO FRATRICIDE

The story of the first brothers of the Tora, as we know, ended badly. Abel offered a sacrifice to HaShem, in gratitude for everything he received from the Creator. Abel offered the best he had. And his offering was well received by the Creator. Cain, on the other hand, behaved more selfishly and was less appreciative. He offered to HaShem what he had left over. And his sacrifice was rejected (to clarify, the Almighty does not “need” human offerings, it is man who benefits from what he or she offers to God. This gesture of gratitude teaches men to appreciate what we have and to identify that all we have comes from Him). When Cain saw that his offering was not received, he became depressed. HaShem tried to make Cain understand his mistake. And to prevent him from repeating his father Adam’s mistake, transference of guilt, he explained what he had to do, “halo im tetib, se’et“, “If you improve your offering, it will be well received.” But Cain did not want to listen. And instead of reflecting on what he had done wrong, he became angry with Abel, as if his brother was to blame for his own failure. His personal frustration was transformed into a deep envy that led Cain to assassinate his brother Abel.

A DIFFICULT RELATIONSHIP

In the next generations, the relationship between siblings did not improve much. In reality, in the book of Bereshit , brotherhood seems to be a specially difficult human relationship to maintain …. among other issues because of te birthright. Ishmael envied – and according to the Sages, tried to kill – his brother Itshaq. The situation did not improve with Ya’aqob and Esav, who fought from the womb. With the children of Ya’aqob we find a similar pattern: Jealousy, envy and a new unfortunate dimension: hatred. “vaisneu oto”, “and the brothers hated Yosef”. In the case of Yosef, the threat of fratricide (= murdering a brother) was part of a real plan, which providentially was avoided.

YOSEF CLOSES THE CYCLE

Last week we read how Yosef, after recreating a scenario in which his brothers had to choose one more time between abandoning and protecting one of the sons of Rahel (Biniamin), this time they rectified their ways and acted differently. They did Teshuba and Toque (reparation), as Ramban explains. Yosef also demonstrated altruism at its highest level. There was no reproach but total forgiveness. He tells his brothers: “Now, do not feel bad (= guilty). It was not you who sent me here. It was HaShem. You were part of a Divine plan to prevent many people from starving. “ Yosef brought closure to the tensions, jealousy and hatred. His words healed the old wounds and opened the possibility of a new healthy relationship between brothers.Yosef’s altruism had its immediate effect. When Yaaqob calls his grandchildren, Yosef’s sons, he blessed the younger before the older. This act could have triggered again the cycle of jealousy, envy and fratricide between Efraim and Menashe. However, we do not see any act of jealousy, reproaches or tensions coming from Menashe, the first-born brother who was now in “a second place”. Bereshit began with an act of fratricide, but ends with two brothers who live in peace, and harmoniously.

A BLESSING TO OUR CHILDREN

When we bless our children, the custom is to wish them to be blessed by HaShem like Ephraim and Menashe. Why? Why do not we bless them like Abraham, Itshaq, Ya’aqob, Yosef, or Yehuda? The reason is that on the one hand we want our children to be Tsadiqiim, righteous and wholehearted towards HaShem. But we also want them to be good brothers, like Ephraim and Menashe. We want our children, not just to refrain from envying one another, we want them to learn to be happy, one for the success of the other.

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Challenging the Firstborn

Again and again, the stories in Sefer Bereshit overturn the ancient assumption of primogeniture, where the firstborn inherits wealth, authority, and leadership. The Torah insists that what matters is not birth order but the divine covenant. By choosing the younger, the unexpected, or the overlooked, God demonstrates that Israel’s destiny is not built on human hierarchy but on His promise. These narratives remind us that the covenantal story is guided by God’s will, not by social convention.

Cain and Abel

The Torah’s first siblings embody this pattern. Cain, the elder, offers a sacrifice, yet God accepts Abel’s (Bereshit 4:4–5). No reason is given, highlighting the mystery of God’s choice. Cain’s envy culminates in murder, but Abel—the younger—is remembered as righteous. From the very beginning, the Torah emphasizes that God’s favor does not follow human structures of privilege.

Ishmael and Isaac

Ishmael is Abraham’s firstborn, but God declares: “Through Isaac shall your offspring be named” (Bereshit 21:12). The covenant passes to Isaac, the younger son of Sarah, not to Ishmael, despite cultural norms. Harsh as the separation of Ishmael and Hagar seems, the Torah stresses that the covenantal future will be built through Isaac.

Esau and Jacob

Even before birth, Rebecca is told: “Two nations are in your womb… and the elder shall serve the younger” (Bereshit 25:23). Esau emerges first, but Jacob’s grasp of the heel symbolizes the coming reversal. Later, Esau sells his birthright for a bowl of lentils and further disqualifies himself by marrying Hittite women. Jacob, despite his own faults, inherits the covenant of Abraham, confirmed by God at Bet-El in the dream of the ladder. The Torah presents Jacob not as perfect, but as the chosen bearer of the covenant.

Zerah and Perez

When Tamar gives birth, Zerah’s hand emerges first, marked with a scarlet thread as if to confirm his firstborn status. Yet Perez bursts out ahead (Bereshit 38:27–30). Human attempts to fix destiny are overturned by divine plan. Perez, the unexpected son, becomes an ancestor of King David.

Joseph and His Brothers

Joseph, far from being the firstborn, is singled out by his father and by God through prophetic dreams. His brothers reject him, selling him into slavery. But providence elevates Joseph to viceroy of Egypt, the one who sustains his family during famine. Reuben, the actual firstborn, fades into the background, while Joseph rises as the savior of his brothers—again, the Torah showing that covenantal destiny is not tied to birth order.

Ephraim and Manasseh

In Jacob’s final blessing, he deliberately crosses his hands, giving priority to Ephraim, the younger, over Manasseh (Bereshit 48:13–20). Joseph protests, but Jacob insists. Once more, the Torah emphasizes God’s freedom to determine blessing regardless of human expectation.

Moses and Aaron

The pattern continues in Shemot. Aaron, the elder, is eloquent and confident, while Moses hesitates, describing himself as “slow of speech” (Shemot 4:10). Yet God chooses Moses to lead Israel out of Egypt and to receive the Torah at Sinai. Aaron supports him as spokesman, but the mantle of leadership rests on the younger brother—an inversion of expectation that defines Israel’s redemption.

David and His Brothers

When Samuel comes to anoint a king from among Jesse’s sons, the older brothers seem obvious choices. But God rejects them: “Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart” (I Samuel 16:7). David, the youngest and least regarded, is chosen to lead Israel. From shepherd boy to king, his story echoes the Torah’s recurring theme—God does not follow the human rule of the firstborn; He chooses whom He wills.

Our Sages never overlooked the small and significant missteps made by our ancestors, especially in the times before the Tora had been revealed when most actions and decisions had to be made without explicit Divine instruction. By uncovering these mistakes, the Sages highlighted the credibility of the Tora, which does not portray superheroes or supervillains. Instead, it teaches the concept of evolution: in the Jewish lineage, children correct the errors of their parents, allowing for constant growth and improvement.

Today’s lesson comes from Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch (Hamburg, Germany, 1808–1888), considered the founder of modern European Orthodoxy. His idea is bold and can easily be misunderstood if read superficially, so we will explain it carefully.

THE PARENTING MODELS OF ISAAC AND JACOB

Rabbi Hirsch compares two models of parenting: Isaac’s and Jacob’s. Isaac had two sons, Yaakov and Esav, with very different and opposing personalities. One, Esav, strayed and completely abandoned the path of Abraham. On the other hand, Yaakov was a complete success: he continued Abraham’s legacy, had twelve sons (and a daughter), and all followed his path. The family that Jacob formed became the Am Yisrael (People of Israel).

WHEN THE SAME IS DIFFERENT, AND THE DIFFERENT IS THE SAME

Rabbi Hirsch poses an important question:

Why did Isaac and Rivka fail to raise Esav properly?

Why did Esav abandon Judaism?

Did his parents give Esav a different education than they gave Yaakov?

Rabbi Hirsch’s answer is surprising:

“Esav’s continuity failed because his parents gave him the same education they gave his brother Yaakov.”

Based on the Midrash cited below, Rabbi Hirsch points out that Isaac and Rivka failed to recognize the significant differences between their sons. They naively assumed that providing the same Jewish education to both children would yield the same results.

However, Esav required a different and personalized education to remain on the Jewish path. He needed a school system—or a good teacher—that considered his unique learning needs. Perhaps Esav did not enjoy libraries or books, or he had a form of ADD. He needed a religious education to address his learning challenges and help channel his talents toward serving God.

Rabbi Hirsch offers a strong warning to parents:

“A father who places Yaakov and Esav [two children with different characters: Yaakov was naturally studious, while Esav preferred hunting in the field] in the same classroom and teaches them the same way will surely ruin one of them. While a child-like Yaakov will thrive on learning, like someone thirsty drinking from a spring, a child-like Esav will only dream of the day he can throw away those old books and leave behind that [religious] lifestyle…”

Rabbi Hirsch highlights that:

“[Isaac and Rivka failed to see] that Esav’s strength and courage were just as important as Yaakov’s thoughtfulness and sensitivity. As parents, we must work with each of our children, acknowledging their diverse talents, to achieve the collective ideal of Am Yisrael.”

EVOLUTION IN PARENTING

Having witnessed the failure with Esav, Jacob learned from it and educated his children in line with their unique personalities and talents. He understood that although siblings might grow up under the same roof, they can have vastly different traits and needs.

Rabbi Hirsch identifies this in Jacob’s blessings to his sons in this week’s Parasha:

“When Jacob’s sons, the future twelve tribes, gathered to receive their father’s blessing, Jacob envisioned the future nation of Israel. He saw priests and rabbis (the tribes of Levi and Issachar), political leaders (Yehuda), great merchants (Zebulun), farmers (Asher), skilled soldiers (Gad), judges (Dan), and more. He blessed them all, but not with a single blessing. Instead, he gave each one a different blessing, saying:

אִישׁ אֲשֶׁר כְּבִרְכָתוֹ בֵּרַךְ אֹתָם – ‘Each according to his own blessing, he blessed them’ (Genesis 49:28).”

Jacob understood that God’s covenant with Abraham required creating a whole and self-sufficient nation. Every individual had to play a different role toward the shared Divine goal: building a nation that would uphold the way of God by practicing and promoting kindness and justice.

CONCLUSION

Suppose Isaac and Rivka had understood the depth of Esav’s soul and asked themselves how his courage and physical energy could be channeled into Avodat Hashem. In that case, Esav might have become a “mighty soldier of God” instead of a “skilled hunter.”

Jacob and Esav, despite their different tendencies and talents, could have become spiritual partners. Esav’s sword would have served Jacob’s spiritual mission.

Rabbi Hirsch does not intend to criticize Yitzhak and Rivka but to teach us a critical life lesson: as Jewish parents, our primary mission is to educate all our children to follow the path of the Tora. This requires recognizing and accepting each child’s unique talents and guiding them toward a religious education, considering both: their strengths and limitations.

MIDRASH

וַיִּגְדְּלוּ הַנְּעָרִים (בראשית כה, כז) רַבִּי לֵוִי אָמַר מָשָׁל לַהֲדַס וְעִצְבוֹנִית שֶׁהָיוּ גְּדֵלִים זֶה עַל גַּבֵּי זֶה וְכֵיוָן שֶׁהִגְדִּילוּ וְהִפְרִיחוּ זֶה נוֹתֵן רֵיחוֹ וְזֶה חוֹחוֹ.

The Midrash compares Yaakov and Esav to two plants growing side by side. At first, they appear similar. But as they mature, one produces fragrance, and the other grows thorns. Similarly, Yaakov and Esav went to school together as children, but when they reached adulthood, Yaakov went to study in Bate Midrash, while Esav turned toward idol worship.

(Bereshit Rabbah 63:9)

RABBI HIRSCH’S TEXTS

המושיב את יעקב ועשו על ספסל לימודים אחד … מובטח לו שאת האחד מהם הוא מקלקל

“A father who places Yaakov and Esav on the same school bench and educates them in the same way will certainly ruin one of them…”

כאשר נקבצו בני יעקב לשמוע את ברכת אביהם

“When Jacob’s sons gathered to hear their father’s blessing, he envisioned the diverse future of Israel and blessed each one according to their unique virtues…”

איש אשר כברכתו ברך אתם (בראשית מט, כח)

Each child has their own mission. Strength and courage are as valuable as thought and emotion. The covenant with God aims to build a complete nation, with every individual contributing uniquely to the fulfillment of Abodat Hashem.

TEXTS

MIDRASH

וַיִּגְדְּלוּ הַנְּעָרִים (בראשית כה, כז), רַבִּי לֵוִי אָמַר מָשָׁל לַהֲדַס וְעִצְבוֹנִית שֶׁהָיוּ גְּדֵלִים זֶה עַל גַּבֵּי זֶה, וְכֵיוָן שֶׁהִגְדִּילוּ וְהִפְרִיחוּ זֶה נוֹתֵן רֵיחוֹ וְזֶה חוֹחוֹ, כָּךְ כָּל י»ג שָׁנָה שְׁנֵיהֶם הוֹלְכִים לְבֵית הַסֵּפֶר וּשְׁנֵיהֶם בָּאִים מִבֵּית הַסֵּפֶר, לְאַחַר י»ג שָׁנָה זֶה הָיָה הוֹלֵךְ לְבָתֵּי מִדְרָשׁוֹת וְזֶה הָיָה הוֹלֵךְ לְבָתֵּי ע»ז 

Bereshit Rabba 63:9

TEXTOS DEL RAB HIRSCH

. המושיב את יעקב ועשו על ספסל לימודים אחד , ובאותם הרגלי החיים מחנך אותם כאחד לחיי לימוד ומחשבה – מובטח לו שאת האחד מהם הוא מקלקל . יעקב ישאב ממעיין החכמה בחפץ גובר והולך , ואילו עשו רק יצפה ליום , בו ישליך מאחורי גבו את הספרים הישנים , ויחד אתם תעודת חיים גדולה , שהכיר אותה רק באופן חד צדדי , ובדרך שמעצם טבעו הוא סולד בה . . (

כאשר נקבצו בני יעקב לשמוע את ברכת אביהם , והלה ראה בהם את שבטי ישראל שלעתיד , לא ראה רק כוהנים ומורי הוראה ; הנה עמד שם שבט הלוויה ושבט המלוכה , שבט הסוחרים , שבט האיכרים , ושבט הלוחמים ; עמד שם לנגד עיניו העם כולו , על כל סגולותיו הרבגוניות , ועל כל דרכי התפתחותו ; את כולם הוא ברך , ‘איש אשר כברכתו ברך אתם’ ( בראשית מ»ט , כח , ( איש איש בסגולותיו המיוחדות לו . כי ברית ה’ הכרותה עם אברהם , חפצה באומה בריאה , שלמה ורעננה ; מטרתה לבנות חיי עם שלמים על כל צורותיהם הרבגוניות , על מנת לכוון אותם אל התפקיד הגדול האחד : לשמור דרך ה’ לעשות צדקה ומשפט . הכוח והאומץ , לא פחות מהמחשבה והרגש , ימצאו שם את גיבוריהם העובדים לה , ‘ ובמקצועות שונים יקיימו כולם את התפקיד הגדול של הכלל . דווקא משום כך – ‘חנוך לנער על פי דרכו , ‘ חנכהו למטרה הגדולה האחת על פי דרכו המיוחדת לו , בהתאם לעתיד הצפוי לו מנטיותיו 

אילו העמיקו יצחק ורבקה לחדור לנפש עשו , אילו הקדימו לשאול את עצמם , היאך יכולים גם האומץ , הכוח והגמישות הרדומים בנפש עשו – היאך יכולים כל אלה להטות שכם לעבודת , ‘ה כי אז ‘הגיבור’ שלעתיד לא היה הופך ל’גיבור ציד , ‘ אלא ל’גיבור לפני ה’ ‘ באמת . יעקב ועשו , על כל נטיותיהם השונות , היו נשארים אחים תאומים ברוחם ובדרך חייהם ; עוד מראשית הייתה חרבו של עשו כורתת ברית עם רוחו של יעקב ; ומי יודע איזה שינוי היה צפוי לקורות הימים על ידי כך . אך לא כן היה : ‘ויגדלו הנערים , ‘ רק משגדלו הנערים והיו לגברים , הופתעו הכל לראות , כי אלה אשר מרחם אחד יצאו , ויחד נתגדלו , נתחנכו ולמדו , היו כה שונים בטבעם ומנוגדים במעשיהם 

1. While in jail, Yosef correctly interprets the dreams of the imprisoned Pharaoh’s officers. Two years later, Pharaoh has a dream. He is standing by the Nile when he sees seven fat cows coming out of the river and seven skinny cows eating the fat ones. Pharaoh has a second dream: seven healthy ears of wheat come out of a stalk, followed by seven thin ears. And the seven healthy ears are swallowed by the thin ones. Pharaoh was troubled and called all the wise men of his land, but none could understand his dream’s meaning. The officer tells Pharaoh about Yosef, and Yosef was immediately taken out of jail and introduced to Pharaoh.
2. Yosef satisfyingly interprets Pharaoh’s dream: both dreams contain a single message: there will be seven years of plenty in Egypt followed by seven years of severe famine. Yosef proposed a plan to store grain during the years of plenty as a reserve for famine. Pharaoh is very impressed by Yosef’s wisdom and appoints him to oversee Egypt’s economy and second in command. Pharaoh orders the Egyptians to bow down to Yosef, changes his name to Tzafenat Pa’aneach, and gives him a priest’s daughter as his wife. Yosef was then only 30 years old.
3. Yosef stores extra grain in the cities. Two sons are born to him during this time: Menashe and Efraim. The seven years of plenty end and famine arrives in Egypt. When the people started complaining to Pharaoh, Yosef opened the silos and started selling the grain. Starving people come from all over Egypt to buy food. Hunger also reaches the entire Middle East. Jacob sends all of his children, except Binyamin, to buy food in Egypt. When Yosef sees his brothers, he pretends he doesn’t know them while they do not recognize him. Yosef deliberately accuses his brothers of being spies and imprisons them for three days.
4. On the third day, Yosef frees them all except Shimon, whom he holds hostage, and allows the brothers to return to Canaan. He also warns them that they can only return to Egypt if they arrive with Binyamin to establish their innocence. The brothers acknowledge to themselves that what was happening to them was a punishment for selling Yosef and express their repentance. Yosef instructs his servants to deposit the money the brothers had paid for the food in the grain sacks they were given. The brothers return to Canaan and tell everything that happened to Jacob. Jacob is very disturbed by the events and initially refuses to send Benjamin to Egypt because he is unwilling to the possibility of losing Rachel’s only remaining son. However, in the end, after the food supplies run out and Yehuda personally guarantees his return, Jacob agrees to send Binyamin. He sends his sons to Egypt with generous gifts for the Egyptian ruler.
5. The brothers arrive in Egypt. Yosef orders his assistant to invite them and join him for the evening meal. The brothers arrive at Yosef’s house, they meet Shimon, and when Yosef arrives, they give him the gifts that Jacob sent. Yosef gets very emotional seeing his younger brother Benjamin. The brothers sit down to eat and enjoy a good dinner, and Yosef gives presents to everyone and extra gifts to Benjamin. In the morning, the brothers return, but only after Yosef has his royal cup planted in Benjamin’s food sack. Yosef then sends an officer to confront the brothers and to find the “stolen” silver goblet. The brothers are brought back to Yosef, who demands that Binyamin, the alleged thief, be punished by remaining there as a slave.

כי זה שנתים הרעב בקרב הארץ ועוד חמש שנים אשר אין חריש וקציר 

There has been famine in the land for two years now, and for the next five years, there will be no plowing, no reaping.

Genesis 45:6

Popular wisdom notwithstanding, modern archeology helps us to corroborate some historical aspects of the Tora’s narrative. Sometimes, it also provides us with cultural or historical tools to understand some little details that the Tora tells us that might go unnoticed. 

Let’s see now a couple of examples.

THE REASON FOR THE FAMINE

We all know Yosef’s story and rise as the Vizier of Egypt. Yosef interpreted Pharaoh’s dream, who saw seven full cows coming up from the Nile and seven thin, unhealthy cows coming from the Nile. Yosef interpreted the dream, predicting that Egypt would benefit from seven years of abundance followed by seven years of famine. 

Famine also affected other regions in the area, such as the land of Israel (Canaan). That’s when Yosef’s brothers came to Egypt for food, and Yosef recognized them, and after a dramatic reunion and reconciliation, his father and his brothers settled in Egypt.

Personally, and although I never thought much about the subject, I always assumed that the years of famine in Egypt were due to the same factor that determined hunger in the land of Israel: a severe drought. The problem with this assumption is that there is virtually no rain in Egypt (between 10 and 15 days a year), and Egypt’s abundant water comes exclusively from the Nile. But if lack of rain is not a phenomenon that could affect Egypt, what caused starvation in Egypt?

THE ARCHIVES OF AMENEMHAT

Modern archeologist and egyptologist David Rohl refers to ancient archives that recorded the measurements of the river Nile. Records show that the average level of the Nile was approximately 30 feet height. When the river dropped to, say, 25 feet, fewer crops were expected since the waters that annually overflowed the river would cover less land. When this happened, Pharaohs lowered the taxes to alleviate the farmers. On the other hand, when the river level rose to 40 or 45 feet, the water covered more territory, producing more crops, and taxes were obviously up. 

The most exciting thing for our subject is the records of a gradual and “exceptional” flood of the Nile in the time of Amenemhat III, which allows us to entertain a perhaps different explanation of some of the details of Yosef’s story.

TOO LITTLE OR TOO MUCH WATER

The archives record that in the times of Amenemhat, the Nile rose to 50 feet, producing an unprecedented abundance in Egypt. But then, and according to these identical records, the waters rose higher and higher, reaching almost 70 feet high! And suddenly, the abundance of water became a national emergency. The waters of the Nile rose like tsunamis, destroying the levees, drowning the cattle, and razing the adobe houses. The water did not recede. And it flooded the land during the plowing and sowing seasons. And as a result, there was no harvest. The starvation caused by these floods threatened Egypt on an unprecedented scale.

According to what was discovered in these archives then, it is possible that the famine in Yosef’s time was not a product of the drought but of the overflowing of the Nile.. This data would allow us to understand better a mysterious (or superfluous) little word that our Tora incidentally mentions, as in passing. 

When Yosef tries to comfort his brothers, who feel guilty about having sold him as a slave to Egypt, he tells them that in all these events, the Divine Providence intervened. It was God who sent Yosef to Egypt to save its people from famine. And then Yosef says (Genesis 45: 6): “… two years of hunger have already passed, and there are still five more years in which [the land] will not be plowed or harvested”

It is obvious why the Tora says that there will be no harvest. But why would Yosef mention that the land will not be plowed? Typically, every year, the farmer tries to plow and sow at the right season, even after a year of drought, hoping for the rain to come. The variable is the harvest, not the plowing.

We can understand now that in Egypt, the problem was not the drought but the flooding that prevented the plowing and sowing of the land.

Thanks to the discoveries of these archives, we can better appreciate the exquisite accuracy of the biblical story, even in what seems to be an extra and otherwise, irrelevant detail, like: “that the land will not be plowed”.

WHEN YOU DREAM OF COWS 

Ramban asserts that the cows represent “plowing” and wheat represents “harvesting”.

The records of the Nile may help us understand the symbolism of Pharaoh’s dream, and his confusion, differently. “The cows that rise from the Nile” represent the rise of the Nile. Usually, “the cows are full, healthy, that is, the annual flooding of the Nile brings food and prosperity. The mysterious and confusing element of Pharaoh’s second dream is that he saw seven “thin”, “hungry” cows coming up from the Nile. These skinny cows were an oxymoron for Pharaoh because the flooding of the Nile was supposed to be a source of abundance, not hunger!

The extreme flooding of the Nile for so many years in a row, as David Rohl suggests, was an exceptional phenomenon in the history of Egypt. In that case, it is not surprising that neither Pharaoh nor any of his advisers were able to understand the meaning of that mysterious dream until Yosef came to the Royal Palace. 

“Emuna” is generally translated as faith, and is understood as “believing in the existence of God”. But the Emuna / faith of Yosef went far beyond a passive faith/belief type. Yosef’s Emuna consisted of focusing his mind in God in bad times and in good times . His active faith guided his steps: stopping him before doing something morally wrong and motivating him to do what is right.   There is a fundamental difference between Yosef and his ancestors. HaShem spoke and communicated directly with Abraham, Itshaq and Ya’aqob. But HaShem never spoke directly with Yosef. In that sense, Yosef is similar to us: we do not have the privilege of a “direct” prophetic  revelation from God. Like Yosef, we also have to actively seek HaShem, think about Him, feel His presence and mainly, allow Him to guide our steps.

LIVING UNDER GOD’S SIGHT

When harassed by Potiphar’s wife (Gen. 39: 9) Yosef had HaShem in his mind. At the time of that particular event, Yosef saw in his mind the image of his father Jacob, who reminded Yosef that what was about to happen with Potiphar’s wife was not be right in the eyes of HaShem. It is not rare or unusual than God’s memory appears by remembering our parents, especially what THEY taught us about God.  The most important manifestation of  Emuna should take place on the moral sphere. Emuna means: feeling that HaShem is watching us. This aspect of Emuna will prevent us from doing what is wrong in His eyes.

BAD BEGINNING. GOOD ENDING.

Later on, we see that Yosef’s Emuna also helped him to forgive his brothers. Yosef told them that when they sold him to slavery (Bereshit 50:19): “It is possible that you thought to do me wrong, but HaShem transformed that evil into a great good, to achieve what we are seeing today: saving the lives of many people”. Yosef’s Emuna made him realize that, many times, what today seems like a big problem, tomorrow turns out to be a great solution.

FAITH IN BAD TIMES

When Potiphar’s wife falsely accused him of sexual harassment, Yosef was taken to jail. He was imprisoned for a  crime he did not commit. Apart from being a slave, Yosef was now a criminal. Nothing lower than that position in Ancient Egypt. Yosef had no hope of getting out of jail. He had no family to be looking for him and no one who knew him or cared about him. And yet, in this unjust and desperate situation, Yosef did not abandon HaShem. Many people in those circumstances would have lost their faith thinking: “If HaShem does not help me, why should I continue to believe in Him and be guided by His laws?”. Or “If this is happening to me, maybe God does not exist… “. When one is the victim of a great injustice, it is very possible that he would feel that HaShem abandoned him, or that ח”ו God does not exist. But Yosef persevered. He had HaShem present even in jail and never stopped believing in Him (40: 8).

FAITH AND HUMILITY

We read in this week’s Parasha, that Pharaoh suddenly needed the services of Yosef. The Egyptian monarch takes Yosef out of jail and tells him his dream. Yosef listens to Pharaoh’s dream and realizes what it means. The Tora does not say that HaShem revealed to Yosef the meaning of Pharaoh’s dream, as it happened with Daniel and Emperor Nebukhadnetsar a thousand years later. Yosef interprets the royal dream, apparently, on his own. Any average individual would have boasted of possessing a great wisdom or superpowers to interpret dreams. Yosef, however, did not attribute to himself the interpretation of the dream. “God [and not me!] is the one who will reveal the [meaning of] Pharaoh’s dream,”   said Yosef (Bereshit 41:16).   This too seems to be the reason Yosef did not ask anything in return for his service. When an opportunity of this kind arises, when, for example, the authorities take an inmate out of jail to ask for some type of information or to use some of his talents, the prisoner realizes that he has the possibility of getting out of jail, and he tries to make a “deal” with the authorities to go out. Yosef did not ask anything in exchange for interpreting Pharaoh’s dream. Because he attributed the interpretation to God, not to himself.

FAITH IN GOOD TIMES

It is important to have Emuna, faith in HaShem in bad times. But the most significant achievement in regard to a person’s Emuna is to keep HaShem in mind when he or she is in good health, happy and financially well. The faith of many people fails when facing the challenge of affluence, wealth and well-being. Then, a person might forget HaShem because he feels he does not need him any more ח”ו. Our Hakhamim warned us about this phenomenon when they told us גדול נסיון העושר מנסיון העוני that “the challenge of wealth” , having HaShem present when I’m well, “is more difficult than the challenge of poverty”, having God in mind when we require His help.

YOSEF, THE MANAGER

Yosef was sold by his brothers and transported to the slave market in Egypt, where Potiphar, a minister in Pharaos court, acquired him. In Potiphar’s house, Yosef stands out. His master realizes that the slave he had bought for manual labor was a genius at administration. And he also inspired trust. Potiphar leaves all his assets and household, probably hundreds of people, in the hands of Yosef. Seemingly, Yosef had found his final destination; even though he was away from his family, at least he was in a privileged position. Being promoted to “manager” was the ultimate dream, the utopia, of any slave. However, got worse for Yosef. Potifar’s wife provokes him. But Yosef does not succumb, and he rejects her advances with great subtlety but firmness. He tried to reason with the woman and explained to her that what she wanted to do would be a great sin against her husband and, above all, against God. “How could I do something so wrong and sin against God” (Gen. 39:9). But Potiphar’s wife did not take Yosef’s rejection well: she felt offended that a man, a slave under her command! rejected her. And she falsely accused Yosef of abuse. Potiphar, I think, did not believe his wife – if he had, he would have killed Yosef on the spot – but he could not ignore her and had to save his family’s honor, so he sent Yosef to a dungeon.

YOSEF, IN AND OUT OF PRISON

Yosef’s situation is now desperate. His sentence is for life. Yosef goes from being a successful manager with privileges to the lowest level a human being could reach in Egypt: a slave sentenced to prison. In Egypt, the value of a slave’s life was probably less than that of a horse or a dog. What can be said then about the insignificant value of a slave in prison? However, thanks to his personality and hardworking character, Yosef also wins the trust of the head of the prison, who, like Potifar, leaves the administration in the hands of Yosef.

Yosef takes care of two VIP prisoners, Pharaoh’s ministers. Both had very strange dreams. And Yosef, who knew a lot about dreams, tells one of the two ministers, the one in charge of Pharaoh’s beverages (making sure that the drinks were not poisoned), that he was going to be released and restored to court. And Yosef takes advantage of this fortuitous circumstance and asks the minister to remember him, and as payback for interpreting his dream positively, he begs him to tell Pharaoh, through one of his officers, to release Yosef from prison, since he is innocent!

A HAPPY END

But as the days or weeks go by, Yosef realizes his hope is a fantasy. Pharaoh’s minister forgot Yosef and consciously erased him from his memory. Because, naturally, the last thing the minister would have wanted was something to remind his boss — who had given him a second chance — of his days in jail! One day, however, Pharaoh has a disturbing dream, and no one can interpret it. At that moment, the minister –knowing that now he was not “asking” but “doing” Pharaoh a favor– informs him that there is a young Hebrew man in jail who knows how to interpret dreams. Yosef is brought into the palace and then, as we all know, becomes Pharaoh’s right-hand man, which allows him to identify his brothers and eventually reconcile with them.

WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF…?

One of the great life lessons that Yosef’s story teaches us is that we often desperately want something to happen NOW. We pray and beg HaShem and do everything we can to achieve it… and in the end, it might NOT happen. But after a while, we might be looking at our lives and realize that THANKS TO WHAT WE WANTED TO HAPPEN AND DID NOT HAPPEN, we now have a better opportunity, or we are now in a better position!

Yosef desperately wanted Pharaoh’s minister to exert all his influence to get out of prison. I suppose that Yosef must have waited impatiently day and night for someone to come and get him out of jail on behalf of Pharao’s minister. But imagine for a second if that had happened: Yosef would be now out of jail, with no money, no family, and with the record of an ex-convict slave. He could not have gotten very far…. He would have been sold as a slave a second time. And in the best of cases scenario, he would have ended his life being a good slave manager in someone’s household. The same would have happened if Potiphar’s wife would not have accused Yosef of improper behavior.

PATIENCE AS A FORM OF FAITH

Yosef learns and teaches us that patience is a form of Emuna, faith. Because many times, things that happen or are not happening to us are eventually for our own good. All the negative experiences that Yosef lived at first made him get lower and lower, to the point of despair. But when Yosef hits rock bottom unexpectedly, and without Yosef ever dreaming of such a scenario, Yosef’s life improves meteorically.

Not all of us have the same privilege as Yosef. It is not always possible to see an excellent final resolution for all our problems in life. However, this lesson is so important. I hear virtually every day of someone who did not get the job he so much wanted or someone who failed in a potential shidduch date or in a business deal. We might feel then that God has abandoned us. But then, I hear many people saying, “thanks to the fact that what I so much wanted didn’t happen, HaShem helped me to get something better. “Now I realize that God protected me from a terrible business/job/shidduch, etc.”

This is a critical attitude to cultivate in life. Knowing that (or even: strategically acting as if… ) when what I pray for is not happening, ultimately, something better might be waiting for me around the corner.