vayigash
parasha vayigash, Genesis chapters 44—47
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and thoughts…
Vayigash
And he approaches…
So, who is approaching what, or whom?
For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. My chemistry teacher told me that.
The universe’s natural state is balance, so it is constantly seeking homeostasis. This is true of all things, great and small. In our own lives, if we don’t find balance, we lose our footing and can go off the deep end.
Things that happen in the now are often a course correction to balance something that happened before.
With that in mind …
We open with a dramatic, traumatic scene:
Joseph, ruler of all Egypt, is still unrecognized by his brothers, who stand before him shaking in their shoes. Benjamin has been caught with the silver goblet and is now subject to being imprisoned in Egypt. And we know that Benjamin is innocent—it’s Joseph who planted it in his youngest brother’s pack.
So what’s happening here?
On that fateful day so long ago, Reuben had devised a secret plan to rescue Joseph from the pit, where the brothers had him trapped, presumably to starve and die, while they enjoyed a nice lunch. But Reuben never spoke up during the saga, and by the time he was ready to put his plan into action, Joseph was gone.
Judah had convinced the others to sell, rather than kill Joseph.
Afterwards, all of them had been in on the lie they told to their father, that Joseph had been torn apart by a wild beast. All of them had seen Jacob’s reaction to losing Joseph, how his grieving was without end and still continued twenty years later. And still, they kept their secret.
One must wonder… Did they resent their father that much? Were they that angry, that jealous of their younger brother—a younger brother who, let’s face it, could be quite obnoxious and full of himself—that they were willing to cause their father so much pain?
Let’s go back further:
Talk about a dysfunctional family!
Our foreparents were not perfect people.
Jacob totally blew it. His love for Rachel was clearly so much greater than his love for Leah. I can only begin to imagine the pain Leah lived with every day, desperately wanting the love of her husband while watching him fawn over her beautiful younger sister. And giving him so many children and watching them all be set aside when at last Rachel bore him a son.
It’s never a good thing when a parent favors one child over the others, and even worse when that parent makes no bones about letting them all know it.
The pain Jacob caused to Leah and to his other sons was immeasurable. The boys grew up with that example.
But then, Jacob came from parents who each clearly favored one child over the other. Children learn what they live.
Back to our opening scene:
Joseph is ruler of all Egypt. He’s changed his name, his hairstyle, his manner of dressing and speaking. He’s not even recognizable to his brothers.
But Joseph’s outer changes were just that—superficial. Behind his Egyptian mannerisms and appearance, he was still true to his God. And Joseph had changed in more important ways.
His years as a slave and a prisoner had humbled him.
And while he became a slave through no action of his own, he became a prisoner by choice. He upheld his morality and refused to touch his master’s wife, even to his own peril. (That said, had he been caught finagling his master’s wife, it would not have gone well for him, either.)
His many responsibilities, as a leader and as a husband and father, matured him.
And now, with his brothers before him, he has a choice to make. He could keep his identity secret and treat them as any other supplicants from other lands. Or, he could reveal himself.
He wonders—have they changed, or are they still the same selfish bums who sold him into slavery in the first place? How will they now react? Will they protest innocence? Will they abandon Benjamin to his fate and escape with their own lives?
And Judah approaches. Judah steps forward. Only Judah. Maybe Reuben was thinking of a plan, but like on that fateful day long ago, he does nothing.
It was Judah who spoke up, putting his own life on the line.
Judah, who knew the pain of losing a child—he’d lost two sons.
Only Judah had the chutzpa to approach this powerful Egyptian dignitary, risking himself in hopes to save his young brother, and spare his father immeasurable pain.
The brothers all knew that if they returned without Benjamin, it would be the death of Jacob. But only Judah spoke up, offering himself in exchange for his youngest brother.
And that was enough for Joseph, who then revealed himself and sent them to go home, collect their father and the rest of the family, and return to live in the land of Goshen where they would lack for nothing. Forgiveness all around.
And don’t argue on the way home, Joseph tells them. No finger pointing, no passing the blame.
Just let it rest. And go get Dad.
Balance is restored, and Judah becomes the spokesman for the family, not Reuben, who was the oldest. Hence, the Royal Davidic line is through the tribe of Judah. Hence, we are Jews, not Rubenites.
The wagons are loaded, and seventy souls head off to Egypt. When they stop for the night, God comes to Israel in a vision. God says, “Jacob! Jacob! I am the God of Abraham and the God of Isaac.”
Isn’t it just a little strange? Why does God need to introduce Godself to him? Hasn’t Jacob had enough encounters with God to know Who’s speaking to him? And curiously, God repeats the promise of the covenant to him, the one God first made with Abraham and then again with Isaac (who, by the way received the same introduction…as if the guy who came within seconds of being slaughtered wouldn’t know who God is).
I’m quite sure that Israel has heard all about this covenant from his father and his grandfather and does not need to have it reiterated to him. After all, hadn’t he pulled a fast one over his brother Esau, to get to be the keeper of said covenant?
But it’s been 20 years since Jacob has been in touch with God—if he had maintained that relationship, it would have been known to him that Joseph lived. So God starts with the introduction.
And then God tacks on a new promise of reassurance saying, “Do not be afraid of going down to Egypt, for there I will make you into a great nation. I will go down with you to Egypt and I will also bring you up…”
It's been said that our people reached their nadir in Egypt. They were on the precipice of being fully submerged in Egyptian culture and losing their identity—their peoplehood—for all time, when God reached out through Moses to redeem them. They didn't know their God, didn't feel God's presence. But we know from the above quote that God was with them in every moment.
Surely in our darkest moments, when we feel most estranged from God, it's only due to our lack of perception. Surely God has gone down with us, collectively and individually, and God will also bring us back up.
Joseph sees to it that his family is settled in the land of Goshen, somewhat separate from the majority of Egyptians, so that they would be able to retain their tribal identity. He wanted to make sure that they would not become so dispersed among the Egyptians that they would forget, not only the name of their God, but the names of their forefathers. And it did help. They knew they were a distinct group— the Egyptians, and Pharaoh himself, saw them that way, as well. They managed to hang on to a number of their traditions and to their language. But, as time went on and generations passed, they were not altogether immune to the influence of their neighbors and the culture in which they lived. The gods of the Egyptians were common household names, even to the Israelites.
When we jump ahead a few hundred years, the Israelites have indeed become Egyptians. Almost.
Just like those of us, whose grandparents or great-grandparents came to the U.S. from distant lands, are now bona fide Americans.
American culture is at its root based on Christian concepts, because the majority of Americans are Christian. Those of us American Jews who were not raised in observant families are immersed in that culture, and without a strong knowledge of Jewish teachings we unwittingly absorb some of those religious concepts—without realizing that they’re different from our own.
What must it have been like for these Israelites, who’d been surrounded by the many false gods of Egypt for multiple generations?
When God decides it’s time to bring them back up from Egypt, they will be in danger of being lost forever.
God will choose this guy, Moshe, to lead the mission. And Moshe will ask, “When I come to the children of Israel, and I say to them that the God of their fathers has sent me to them, they’re going to say to me, 'What God is this who sent you? What is the name of this God?” After all, they knew Isis, Osiris, Horus, Amun, Ra, Hathor, Bastet, Thoth, Anubis, and so many others.
It’s a curious name God gives Moshe in answer to the question—I am that I am. I will be as I will be.
I have to ask:
If God has gone down to Egypt with Jacob and his family, and has promised that in time God will bring them back up, why would the Israelites need to ask what this God’s name is? Wouldn’t they know this God and this promise? Wouldn’t it be the number one teaching that parents would pass to their children? The one thing that would give them hope to keep on keeping on?
By asking God’s name we can infer that they didn’t know their God had descended with them and intended to bring them up. They didn’t know of the covenant (or at least most of them didn’t).
And today, how many American Jews know little if anything about their God? How many reject the very idea of God because their understanding of the nature of God is skewed toward what they’ve absorbed from American culture, the Christian idea of Who/What God is, and that imagery, being foreign to the way Jews think, doesn’t work for them? And so we have a nation of proud Jews who consider themselves to be atheists or agnostics because they’ve never encountered the God of their foremothers and forefathers. Or, a nation of proud Jews who love their culture but have found their spirituality in foreign gods.
Some of us, miraculously, find our way home, but not without a whole lot of earnest searching and study.
So, what now?
We wait.
Those who know something reach out as much as they can, to teach.
But ultimately, we’re waiting for our next great leader, the next Moshe, who will open the eyes of the world to truth and understanding, who will partner with God to bring us up out of this narrow place of darkness, our present day Mitzrayim, and lead us to light.
We wait.
And while we’re waiting….
So, what shall we eat?
I’m thinking that a menu that reminds us of where our ancestral home lies, no matter what culture any of us are living in now, could be the way to go tonight. And so, a vegetarian Israeli dinner is taking form in my mind…
I love falafel, and I really love the falafel recipe that I’ve developed. They’re crispy on the outside, light and tender on the inside, gorgeously green, nicely spiced, and need no flour to hold them together—so they’re naturally gluten free. My version, which has a little twist from the traditional recipe, has a few surprising extra ingredients that add to the flavor and also add some extra nutrition.
They’ll be served with tahini sauce, harissa, and garnishes such as sour pickles and brilliantly pink pickled turnips (say that three times fast).
The Mejadra recipe is the one from the cookbook, “Jerusalem,” by Sami Tamimi and Yotam Ottolenghi.
Instead of making traditional hummus, which would be an expected part of this spread, I decided to eliminate the chickpeas (since we’ve got plenty of those in the falafel), and try another little twist—and so, white bean hummus shares a plate with black bean hummus for a striking presentation. You’ll see how changing up the types of beans changes the flavor of the exact same recipe.
Baba ganoush has to be a part of this mezze, because it’s my favorite. (All things eggplant are my favorite.)
The butternut dip is sweet with date syrup, tart with pomegranate molasses, and spiced with a touch of curry. Pomegranate jewels are a nice garnish.
The brownie bars are a recipe right off the back of a box of Ghiradelli brownie mix.
Menu for Vayigash