In Parshat Vayeshev, we read the remarkable story of Yosef’s dreams, the sale of Yosef, and his eventual descent to Egypt. By the end of the parsha, we find Yosef, the beloved son of Yaakov Avinu, living on his own in Egypt - a lone Jew in a culture that is completely antithetical to the value system in which he was raised.
As we take a closer look at Yosef’s life, we see that his individual struggle of resistance to external pressures serves as a microcosmic experience of the Jewish struggle to maintain our identity and our beliefs in the face of conflicting and often challenging cultures throughout the ages. The story of the Chashmonaim – the tale of the few against the many, the Torah pure against the impure – is certainly one example of this timeless struggle. It seems no coincidence, then, that we read the story of Yosef each year as we approach the holiday of Chanukah - when we commemorate the miraculous survival – both physical and spiritual - of the Chashmonaim. As we try to understand the lessons embedded in this week’s parsha, we must also consider how these messages relate to and enhance our appreciation of the upcoming chag.
There are several moments in the parsha that highlight the struggle Yosef had to overcome in order to maintain his Jewish ideals in the adverse society he lived in. Perhaps the most obvious example of this is when Eshet Potiphar attempts to seduce him. We see from Yosef’s response that his willpower to say no came from his commitment to Hashem:
In this house, there is no one greater than I, and he has not withheld anything from me except you, insofar as you are his wife. Now how can I commit this great evil, and sin against God?" (39:9).
We see that in spite of his immediate surroundings of pagan worship and immoral behavior, Yosef upheld his lifestyle as a God-fearing Jew – consistently allowing his understanding of ratzon Hashem dictate his decisions. This constant awareness of Hashem’s presence and influence in Yosef’s life is highlighted later in the parsha. When the two officers beseech him to interpret their dreams, Yosef instinctively responds:
"Don't interpretations belong to God? Tell [them] to me now" (Gen. 40:7)
Evidently, even after Yosef is sold by his own brothers for a seemingly unjustifiable reason, and still after he is thrown into jail for a crime he never committed, Yosef was able to see yad Hashem in all that was happening around him. In spite of the hardships, he still trusted that the Divine Will is ultimately in charge and it is God that determines how dreams unfold to become reality. What is perhaps most notable in this scene is that his conviction in a Divine influence in this world was so strong that he presented this view, even to those who clearly had differing beliefs than he did.
So often when we are surrounded by people who do not have the same value or belief system as we do, we begin to doubt the validity of the truths that we have always maintained. Perhaps at first we are able to hold on to our beliefs, but we refrain from expressing those views or displaying those values to avoid being different. Consequently, we may not be completely true to ourselves in the way we speak or the way we interact with those around us. Unfortunately, once we give up the externals in hopes to fit in, it becomes much easier for us to lose track ourselves of who we really are and who we want to be.
While we know our thoughts and intentions influence our actions and words, it is important to remember that the reverse is true as well – our internal thoughts and motives can be shaped by the way we interact with our surroundings. Often times we concern ourselves with how people perceive us based on the way we present ourselves externally – perhaps we should be more concerned about how the way we portray ourselves to the outside world can deeply affect our insides.
Yosef was the lone Jew in the Egyptian culture of the time and yet he was not ashamed to display his steadfast faith in Hashem. By displaying his beliefs and values in his daily interactions, Yosef was able to uphold and preserve his internal spiritual essence - even in the most trying times. In fact, Yosef became somewhat of a representative of Hashem in the society - when he brought prosperity to the Egyptian culture, the Egyptians associated the success with Yosef’s God. In this way Yosef was able to make a real Kiddush Hashem – even in a culture that rejected the notion of a moral life dictated by a single God. As the Torah tells us:
And his master saw that the Lord was with him, and whatever he did the Lord made prosper in his hand (39:3).
Rav Milston so poignantly notes that the act of a Kiddush Hashem can only be impacting when it is “an external expression of an internal reality.” In other words when we act according to what we truly believe to be right and true, then the sincerity shines through and that is when we make a Kiddush Hashem. Perhaps it was this transparent and genuine faith that Yosef displayed that caused those who knew him to accept that there was at least some truth and value in what he believed.
Like Yosef, the Chashmonaim were a small minority living in a culture that denied all aspects of Jewish religious and spiritual values. The Greeks sought to prove that there was no Divine Providence in the natural world and rejected and the notion of a supernatural force behind nature. It seems that the ability of the physically meek Jews to be victorious came from the same source that gave Yosef his unbeatable willpower to succeed – and that is the fundamental faith and trust in Torah values that cannot be compromised. In a time when the Greeks tried to diminish the light of Torah, the Chashmonaim did not allow Greek philosophy to penetrate their belief in the truths of the Torah - so much so that they were therefore willing and able to stand up to defend their beliefs in a Divine presence that is so often masked behind nature.
From both the stories of Yosef and the Chashmonaim, we are reminded of our role as the Jewish nation - as the ambassadors of Hashem in this world. When we fulfill G-d’s command with the conviction that it is the most ideal way to live, only then can those around us appreciate the beauty of the Torah and the value of living by the ethical standards that the Torah demands of us. As Rav Menken notes, the more immersed an individual is in Jewish ethics, the greater the influence he can have. Certainly the more passionate he feels in these convictions the deeper impact he can make.
I think this understanding of what it means to be the ambassadors of Hashem provides insight into a deeper understanding of the concept of parsumei nissa (publicizing the miracle), which is associated with lighting the Chanukah candles. After all, the act of calling attention to our successes seems antithetical to Jewish values of modesty – and yet we are commanded to publicize the Jewish victory for as many people to see. In grappling with this question, Rabbi Liebowitz points out that it is essential to remember that the act of parsumei nissa is not to call attention to our successes, but instead to Hashem’s greatness and influence in shaping the world we live in. Once again we see that the way we present ourselves externally could and should make an impression on our internal spiritual essence - through the lighting of the Chanukah candles we display to the outside world our fundamental faith in Hashem's control in this world - in so doing we remind ourselves and strengthen ourselves of this fundamental truth.
SHABBAT SHALOM, Taly
