Parashat HaShavua - Vayeshev
When I was in 11th grade, I participated in a Ministry of Education mission to Poland. The logo for the trip was centered around the verse:
אֶת־אַחַ֖י אָנֹכִ֣י מְבַקֵּ֑שׁ
I am searching for my brothers.
This logo suggested to us that we were traveling to learn about our family members, our people who lived rich and meaningful lives in Eastern Europe. We were traveling to commit ourselves to the meaning of the call “never again” and to ensure that the memory of our brothers and sisters lived on through our learning and actions.
Reading this verse in the context of this week’s parsha - Vayeshev - suggests additional meaning to this theme. These words are recited by Joseph when he is wandering the fields, possibly lost, and an איש (an anonymous person) asks him what or who he is looking for. Jacob sent Joseph to find his brothers. The text is unclear as to the reason for this mission, but it is likely Jacob’s response to the growing rift between his children. This rift might have started because of Jacob’s profound love for his son Joseph. So great is his love, that he buys him a special colorful cloak. This love causes Joseph’s brothers to despise him. As if to add salt to their wounds, Joseph shares two dreams with them, which they interpret as suggesting that they are inferior to Joseph and should bow down to him. The text states that the brothers are filled with jealousy and that their father first reprimands Joseph and then remains quiet. A few verses later, Jacob is no longer quiet. He sends Joseph on this mission, Joseph is wandering. And that is when he answers the anonymous person:
אֶת־אַחַ֖י אָנֹכִ֣י מְבַקֵּ֑שׁ
I am searching for my brothers.
The anonymous person responds נָסְע֣וּ מִזֶּ֔ה “they have gone from here.” Rashi suggests that this is not only a statement of geography, but also a statement of relationship: the brothers have departed from feeling brotherly love (אחווה) towards Joseph. This seems to suggest that Joseph was searching for his brothers in hope of reconciliation but he is too late. Reconciliation no longer seems possible.
In last week’s parsha, Jacob encounters an איש, a man, and wrestles with him. This encounter prepares him for a brief moment of reconciliation with his brothers. In this week’s parsha, Joseph’s encounter with the איש, prepares him for separation from his brothers.
In a few weeks, we will read of Joseph’s reconciliation with his brothers in Egypt. At that moment, through his weeping, Joseph asks another question. This time he asks it of his brothers:
הַע֥וֹד אָבִ֖י חָ֑י?
Is my father still alive?
These words were paraphrased by Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach and included in his song עם ישראל חי (Am Yisrael Chai). Carlebach changed the words from the question “is my father still alive?” to an exclamation: our father lives! עוד אבינו חי. This is what we imagine was the brothers’ answer when they were scared and speechless upon learning Joseph’s identity. We imagine what they wanted to assert was: yes! Our father is alive and well.
When we traveled in Poland, I remember feeling like we were too late. Everywhere we turned, we encountered a preponderance of evidence of destruction and loss. And, while we were searching for our brothers and sisters who were no longer alive, we were also responding to their questions and asserting, we are here! We are still alive. Your legacy lives on, עם ישראל חי (Am Yisrael Chai).
May עם ישראל merit the ability to respond to the cry of our brothers and sisters held captive in Gaza and to bring them home and reunite them with their families. May we do so before it’s too late. May this be this year’s Hanukkah miracle.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Dahlia Kronish
High School Associate Head
