Divrei Torah for Parashat Vayeshev,

There is a tradition in Judaism that there are 70 facets to the Torah, or 70 ways to interpret anything in the Torah. In this spirit, please enjoy the Dvar Torah below, and if you’d like, read on for two more takes on this week’s parashah.

Reading vs Feeling Emotion 

On January 23, 1945, the USS Quincy set sail from Newport News, Virginia. On board was President Roosevelt, heading to Europe to meet with Stalin and Churchill. There was a complete news blackout about the voyage – after all, both the Atlantic and the Mediterranean were patrolled by U-boats, and the President of the United States would make quite a target. After that famous conference, Churchill and Roosevelt set sail for Egypt. After Churchill departed to visit his troops in Egypt, King Farouk of Egypt, Emperor of Ethiopia Haile Selassie, and King Abdul Aziz of Saudi Arabia held summits aboard with Roosevelt. After a few more stops along the Mediterranean, the USS Quincy set a course for the shores of Virginia to Roosevelt’s home. I wonder at times, why would FDR allow himself to be put in such a dangerous situation? 

Part of the answer can be found in a classical commentary on Parashat Vayeshev. Genesis 37:18 states: “וַיִּרְאוּ אֹתוֹ מֵרָחֹק וּבְטֶרֶם יִקְרַב אֲלֵיהֶם וַיִּתְנַכְּלוּ אֹתוֹ לַהֲמִיתוֹ” – “They saw him from a distance, and before he came close to them, they conspired to kill him.” Seforno, a medieval Italian philosopher, notices an oddity in the reflexive nature of the word “vayitnaklu.” He suggests that the correct reading of the verse could be that the brothers thought that Joseph was plotting to kill them! The physical distance between the brothers and Joseph prevented the brothers from properly reading his intentions and they ultimately felt threatened. While this is far from the peshat (simple reading) of the narrative, it does give us insight into the dangers of not being in a position to read others’ emotions. 

The need to read and feel our peers’ emotions seems like a very timely topic. I decided to ask three of my classes to reflect on this verse from this week’s parashah. What does it mean to see someone from a distance at the moment? Is it being six feet apart and wearing a mask in a way that your facial expressions are at times hidden, or is it being miles apart while being able to see their facial expressions over Zoom? Needless to say, there were students who articulated each option as being today’s version of “seeing someone from a distance.” One senior expressed, “Distance to me is completely physical. We can interact with each other all we want over Zoom and tell ourselves that we are interacting, but in reality, this is nothing more than a group FaceTime. The feeling of being in one’s physical presence is something irreplicable.” A junior explained, “…it is harder to interpret expressions with a mask even when you can see someone than it is to interpret their expression when they are on Zoom possibly thousands of miles away from you. I think facial expressions are a major part of how humans communicate and [a] full facial expression with your mouth is more important than actually being near someone physically in terms of how we feel distance.” What I found fascinating though, was that regardless of their opinion on the question above, almost every student expressed the preference to be together in person — even when separated by six feet and masks — to meeting over Zoom. 

Joseph’s brothers could not read or understand him emotionally from that distance, and they were not ready to take the risk of letting him get closer before deciding how to proceed. The chain reaction set off by that distance destroyed the fabric of our ancestral family. Roosevelt seemed to understand that the potential payoff was worth the risk. The rapport built between these world leaders who were able to interact directly with one another did not lead to a utopian world, but it did set in place many important foundations. Some historians credit Roosevelt’s persistence on the issue of Jewish immigration to Palestine during his three-day summit with King Abdul Aziz as leading to Saudi Arabia’s anemic response in support of the Palestinians during Israel’s War of Independence. As one junior put it, when you are physically together, “you can read their body language . . . you can bond with them.” The dangers that we are currently facing are real. And they’re scary. We need to do everything in our power to minimize our exposure to danger whenever possible. But that also includes the danger of too much distance. Be cautious. Be safe. Find creative ways to be close.  Shabbat Shalom. 

Interested in additional ways of thinking about this week’s parashah? Read on, below:


The Danger of Us (and Them)

“If everyone is thinking alike, then somebody isn’t thinking.” These immortal words expressed by General George Patton capture the danger of herd mentality. There is comfort in going along with the masses, but the price is often too high. 

The tension in Vayeshev between Joseph and his brothers predates their birth. Their mothers’ struggles for Jacob’s attention and affection bred a new generation still competing for it.The polarization of the previous generation develops even further, when Joseph’s brothers are left alone to think together. During the first 17 verses of this parashah, the brothers are never referred to as individuals, and the 10 verbs used to describe their actions unify them into a single unit. That singularity of mind is amplified in the 18th verse: “וַיִּרְאוּ אֹתוֹ מֵרָחֹק וּבְטֶרֶם יִקְרַב אֲלֵיהֶם וַיִּֽתְנַכְּלוּ אֹתוֹ לַהֲמִיתוֹ” – “They saw him from afar, and before he came close to them, they conspired to kill him.” Had any brother on his own seen Joseph, it is doubtful that he could have made such a decision. However, when “they” see him, it is easy for each individual to hide behind the group, losing his personal moral compass by abdicating any individual responsibility. 

The plan only falls apart when two brothers later raise objections. First, Reuben suggests throwing Joseph into a pit instead of murdering him. That would buy Reuben time to return and save him. Regrettably, Reuben takes leave for a period of time, which allows for the herd to regroup. Judah suggest selling Joseph into slavery, and they agree. What seems to be missing in all of these scenarios is dialogue. The text leaves us no record of any discussion. One person says “let’s do ‘x’” and the group follows. Another says “let’s do ‘y’”, and again the group follows. 

The algorithms that direct social media accounts have failed to learn the lessons of this narrative. We are pummeled with ideologies and opinions that simply support our own way of thinking — never challenging us with dissent. It’s comforting to know that every rational person in the world agrees with me. After all, I’m sure that I would see the disagreeing opinion if one existed. In class (and in conferences), I often advise students to take themselves out of their comfort zones. Challenge others’ ideas — politely, of course. Share your ideas, and in doing so, create the potential that others will challenge you. That is the only way to achieve growth. Joseph’s brothers are condemned to years of stagnancy and decline once “they” lose contact with their dissenting brother. Let us start thinking, lest we turn into “them.”

Shabbat Shalom!

 
From a Distance

From a distance we all have enough

And no one is in need

And there are no guns, no bombs and no disease

No hungry mouths to feed

Distance is great. Distance is horrible. While some might argue that viewing things from a distance allows us to get a better sense of the big picture, it also disconnects us from the realities in front of us. It can alter our ability to recognize the truths that we wish to avoid seeing anyway. 

From a distance you look like my friend

Even though we are at war

From a distance I just cannot comprehend

What all this fighting is for

The first 17 verses of Parashat VaYeshev include 12 descriptions of Jacob’s other sons as being Joseph’s brothers. There seems to be an attempt to paint a picture of closeness, of connection. Yet Genesis 37:18 explains to us that a different reality was at play: “וַיִּרְאוּ אֹתוֹ מֵרָחֹק וּבְטֶרֶם יִקְרַב אֲלֵיהֶם וַיִּתְנַכְּלוּ אֹתוֹ לַהֲמִיתוֹ” — “They saw him from a distance, and before he came close to them, they conspired to kill him.” While the peshat (simple reading) of the text seems to be talking about a physical distance, there seems to be metaphoric reality here as well. We are taught not to judge someone until we walk a mile in his/her shoes. There’s an element of distance that distorts our view of the “other.” One might even argue that it creates the idea of the “other.” I relate to people who I see as being similar to me. I feel responsibility toward those who are close to me. News stories about people around the world can be interesting — they might cause me to feel an emotion in the moment, but soon enough, that distance breaks down most feelings of connection. 

Even within our community, there are too many people who we see “from a distance.” All too often, I hear members of our community expressing disdain for their peers within our community simply based on their alignment with a different ideology. Whether it’s across the ever-more-polarized political divide, or across religious lines, the vitriol has been increasing over the past few years. As we were marking the 25th anniversary of Rabin’s assassination, political observers commented that they believe that another political assassination in Israel is a real possibility. Across the news here in America, politicians have been receiving death threats for their views while civil servants have been receiving death threats for simply doing their jobs.   

From a distance we are instruments

Marching in a common band

Playing songs of hope

Playing songs of peace

They are the songs of every man

Failing to see our commonality when we see others from a distance leads to both big-picture and small-picture crises. As the brothers see Joseph from a distance, they are willing to plot to kill him. The narrative connects those events flawlessly. However, if we pan out and notice a larger trend, the repercussions become even greater. This narrative leads to the largest gap in the Torah without direct communication from God. For 10 chapters, we have no directions from God, no dialogue with God. God is absent. It is only when the brothers are able to see Joseph from up close that God returns to our story. How can God be part of our lives when we can look at those created in His image from a distance? 

God is watching us, from a distance.

Shabbat Shalom.