Parashat Vayeshev

וַיִּרְא֥וּ אֹת֖וֹ מֵרָחֹ֑ק וּבְטֶ֙רֶם֙ יִקְרַ֣ב אֲלֵיהֶ֔ם וַיִּֽתְנַכְּל֥וּ אֹת֖וֹ לַהֲמִיתֽוֹ׃
וַיֹּאמְר֖וּ אִ֣ישׁ אֶל־אָחִ֑יו הִנֵּ֗ה בַּ֛עַל הַחֲלֹמ֥וֹת הַלָּזֶ֖ה בָּֽא׃
וְעַתָּ֣ה ׀ לְכ֣וּ וְנַֽהַרְגֵ֗הוּ וְנַשְׁלִכֵ֙הוּ֙ בְּאַחַ֣ד הַבֹּר֔וֹת וְאָמַ֕רְנוּ חַיָּ֥ה רָעָ֖ה אֲכָלָ֑תְהוּ וְנִרְאֶ֕ה מַה־יִּהְי֖וּ חֲלֹמֹתָֽיו׃
They saw him from afar, and before he came close to them they conspired to kill him. They said to one another, “Here comes that dreamer! Come now, let us kill him and throw him into one of the pits; and we can say, ‘A savage beast devoured him.’ We shall see what comes of his dreams!” (בראשית 37:20-21).

In this week’s parashah, Vayeshev, Yosef’s dream of ruling over his brothers landed him, by their jealous hands, in a pit crawling with snakes and scorpions. From there, Yosef was sold to an Ishmaelite caravan, then sold again as a slave in Egypt to Potiphar, and finally imprisoned when Potiphar’s wife accused him of impropriety. 

Conversely, Yosef’s interpretation of the Pharaoh’s dreams liberated him from imprisonment and eventually rescued society from starvation. Seven fat cows swallowed up by seven lean cows, and seven fat ears of grain swallowed by seven lean ears, meant, as only Yosef could see, that seven years of plenty would be followed by seven years of hunger. Yosef transformed this abysmal vision into an effective economic plan that averted the crisis: he advised Pharaoh to store grain during the plentiful years. Pharaoh then appointed Yosef governor of Egypt. 

We see that through dreams, Yosef was catapulted from slave status to ruler, and society was delivered from privation to preparedness. We also see that visionaries must be brave, often made to suffer hardship in a hostile world. Dreamers must stand alone until others can see past their own barricades.

A dreamer sees what others cannot: long before it exists in the physical world, the dreamer knows its shape, hears its sound, discerns its components, and understands its complexity. For the dreamer, like the artist, his work is merely the expression of what has already been created, and his hands are simply the כלים (vessels) by which that “idea is brought forth into the physical world as he or God (or both) originally intended.”[1] 

Michelangelo, perhaps the world’s greatest sculptor, so pristinely captures this extraordinary notion:

“Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it.
I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”

We Jews come from a nation of sculptors, who see the invisible, who invent, cure, compose, and have changed the way humanity sees the world.

“Some of their names are on our lips for all time: Marx, Freud, Proust, Einstein, [Salk] and Kafka. Others have vanished from our collective memory, but their importance endures in our daily lives. Without Karl Landsteiner, for instance, there would be no blood transfusions or major surgery; without Paul Erlich, no chemotherapy; without Siegfried Marcus, no motorcar; without Rosalind Franklin, no model of DNA; without Fritz Haber, not enough food to sustain life on Earth; without Genevieve Halevy, no grand opera . . . ”[2] 

So many Jews throughout history have been the nexus between the sublime and its implementation. Theodor Herzl, the founder of modern Zionism and visionary of the State of Israel, boldly stated: “Im tirtzu, ain zo aggdah אם אתה רוצה, זה לא אגדה: If you will it, it is no dream.” [3]

As Pharaoh recognized Yosef’s genius, so too, the modern world, despite horrifying antisemitism, has recognized the contribution of Jewish visionaries to the preservation and advancement of society. Nobel Prizes have been awarded to over 900 individuals, of whom at least 20% were Jews. How remarkable for a people who constitute only 0.2% of the world’s population! We Jews have earned 100x the number of Nobel Prizes statistically expected.

Of the 180 Jewish Nobel Prize Laureates, 129, a full 72%, came from the United States of America. The American Dream and the Jewish dreamer are a noble partnership. 
 
Just as Yosef was in prison in Mitzraim, so too, all of humanity finds itself imprisoned in some form, in some measure, to some thing, at some point in its lifetime, whether externally imposed or internally driven. Prison cells can be made of iron, while human cells can be imprisoned by a virus. Captivity can be inflicted through habits of mind or practice which we long to, but cannot break, destroying our health and self-esteem. The human family is repeatedly brought to its knees by a kaleidoscope of incarcerations.  

Just as imprisonment in some form is inevitable, longing for escape is part of the human condition. Yosef teaches us, reminds us, of our power to dream and the promise of emancipation.  

We learn in Shir Hashirim (7:1) that we Jews are beckoned (because of our unique ability to be visionaries) by the nations of the world to come to them, to leave our Jewish identity behind, so that they can gaze upon us, to observe and perceive our inner visions with the promise that, because of what they see in us, we will be honored as nobility, much like Yosef was honored in Egypt.

שׁ֤וּבִי שׁ֨וּבִי֙ הַשּׁ֣וּלַמִּ֔ית שׁ֥וּבִי שׁ֖וּבִי וְנֶֽחֱזֶה־בָּ֑ךְ  [4] And we respond to the nations that any nobility bestowed by them, even the highest honors, pale in comparison to the שְׁלֵמוּת (completeness) we already have simply by being a part of the Jewish people and through our connection to HaKadosh Borochu (7:2).

 מַֽה־תֶּֽחֱזוּ֙ בַּשּׁ֣וּלַמִּ֔ית כִּמְחֹלַ֖ת הַֽמַּֽחֲנָֽיִם: Our claim of completeness apart from the nations, and our refusal to assimilate into the nations, has fueled antisemitism over the centuries, for which our brethren have paid dearly. Not only have millions of Jewish dreamers died for their convictions and identity, but generations upon generations of their descendents, who would have been born, never got the chance to live, never gave the world their dreams. It is estimated that had the Holocaust not happened, there would be between 28 and 32 million Jews today rather than 15.2 million.[5] 

As we approach Thanksgiving, it is interesting to note, the Hebrew words for turkey and thanks are both הוֹדוּ. So on this day of turkey and thanks, we can be grateful for so many things: that we are able to dream; that we are a part of a tiny people in numbers whose infinite visions have liberated, rescued, inspired, cured, cared for, and touched the lives of the vast majority of human beings. Grateful that we live in a country which has provided us opportunities to live, breathe, and work without limitation, and has inspired in us the courage to succeed. America affords us the liberty and protections to dream freely. As Jews we always say, even in times of celebration, zecher l’churban. At a חֲתוּנָה (wedding celebration) in our happiest moments, we still seal our ceremony by shattering a glass, reminding us of the Beit Hamikdash destroyed by שִׂנְאַת חִנָּם. So as we express gratitude on this American holiday of Thanksgiving, let us pause to remember those of us, our Jewish brethren and all souls, who are in prison, in any of its many forms: physical, financial, emotional. And let us be inspired by Yosef in Egypt, who taught us that through our dreams we can do far more than escape our confinement, we can actually sculpt and reform reality. 

May I take this opportunity to bestow a ברכה on our students: that through their studies and mentorship at The Leffell School, they should gain the tools and opportunities to fulfill their dreams. That their endeavors should benefit society and the world, creating a kiddush Hashem, continuing the honorable heritage of our people who have contributed so generously, so extraordinarily, so beyond our numbers, in good faith. May you be able to balance the call of the nations with a sense of completeness rooted in your Jewish heritage. May you be “people of the dream,” able to contribute to this nation through your imagination, innovation, and industry, as did Yosef in Egypt. May you always have plenty, and never suffer from famine, neither physical, nor spiritual. May you be a source of nachas to your parents. And may you enjoy שְׁלֵמוּת, wholeness, simply by being part of the collective identity and practice of the Jewish people who, through their dreams and will, have liberated so many in our human family from the prisons they have forever longed to escape.

Happy Thanksgiving and Shabbat Shalom!

Morah Feinberg

[1] https://nilsaparker.medium.com/the-angel-in-the-marble-f7aa43f333dc
[2] Lebrecht, Norman. Genius & Anxiety: How Jews Changed the World, 1847 -1947, Simon & Schuster, Inc, New York, NY. 2019. p. viii. 
[3] https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/courage-to-dream/
[4]The primitive root verb châzâh in the phrase וְנֶֽחֱזֶה־בָּ֑ךְ  means to gaze at; mentally to perceive, contemplate (with pleasure); specifically to have a vision of:  to see with the intelligence, look, behold, prophesy, provide
[5] https://www.timesofisrael.com/what-if-the-holocaust-had-never-happened/