Category: Torah portions of the Week

It is the emotional highlight of the whole Joseph saga. After having sold Joseph into slavery and sending him to Egypt, the brothers lied to their father that Joseph had been eaten by a beast and was apparently dead. Jacob's mourning was intense and unending. The years went past and Joseph had no knowledge of his father, and vice versa.

Many question why Joseph never sent a letter. Some theorize that Joseph suspected his father may have known about the plot. Perhaps he refrained so as not to have to deal with his brothers again before they repented and begged forgiveness. That would explain why he strung them along after they came to buy food in Egypt and did not reveal his identity immediately.

Either way, a son loves his father and a father loves his son. At the moment when Jacob arrived at Joseph's palace, Joseph ran out to greet him. They embraced, a story which always brings a lump to my throat. However, the Torah says that only Joseph cried, not Jacob. One would expect some emotional reaction! What was Jacob doing?

Incredibly, he was reciting the Shema prayer, "Hear oh Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is one."

At that moment? Couldn't it wait a few seconds? Please cry tears of joy, Jacob! What on Earth was he doing?

It is intriguing to investigate, as the police do during a corruption probe, "Who knew what and when?" Did Jacob ever find out just HOW Joseph got to Egypt? Did the brothers keep the cover up till the end? I wonder if all the brothers knew. What about Benjamin, Joseph's younger brother? He certainly would not have approved of the brothers sale of Joseph.

And what about Reuben? He was absent when they sold Joseph. In fact, he never wanted to harm Joseph. He urged the brothers to put Joseph in the pit so as to go back later and save him. When he did so, and found the pit empty, he was beside himself with guilt and fear. We don't see that the brothers ever told him. Indeed, later on, when they stood before Joseph to buy food, Reuben says, "I told you not to harm the boy (Joseph), and now his blood is being demanded." From this it seems that Reuben thought that Joseph was indeed dead. I'm betting he was never told either.

In fact, my main concern about the entire story and its aftermath is that there are too many tears, and no laughter. Yes, the tears make sense in that there was great trauma, and tragic things had been done. But still, there is no joy here, except in Jacob's heart. His "spirit lived". He's the only one. I am reminded of Romeo and Juliet, where, at the beginning, Romeo is enamored of a woman named Rosalind. He mopes and mopes from love. When he meets Juliet, all of a sudden he is the life of the party. Something was wrong with the love of Rosalind, and something was right with that of Juliet.

The place where the brothers AND Joseph went wrong was in never really talking and never really reconciling. They didn't talk. Reuben didn't know, wasn't told. I suppose Jacob and Benjamin also. And Joseph never really talked to his brothers either. Sure, he did comfort them and say that it turned out to be good that they sold him, but he never said to them "You hurt me, and even so I forgive you." He never expressly forgave them. He talked at them, not to them.

At the beginning of the story, the diagnosis was made, "They (the brothers) could not speak peacefully to him (Joseph)".

Why did they not talk? Perhaps because they were prey to the sin of Cain, to jealousy. They valued themselves in comparison to others, and could not brook that Joseph might rise above them. Now that it had happened, for them to apologize would be akin to admitting defeat. They couldn't get past it.

But Jacob reacted differently. Even if he wasn't told clearly how his son got to Egypt in the first place, he definitely understood that there was a lethal tension between the brothers, and that they did not communicate. He immediately sought the cure, and hoped it would bring back the joy of love. Shema, listen. God is teaching us that the primary rule of human relations is to listen. Cain did not listen, he struck. The brothers did not listen, they dismissed and hated.

When one values himself in God's eyes, and not in competition with others, he will listen to, care for, and rejoice with others. "The Lord is one." This is an obligation. We must be one, unified, as well. If we live to find favor in God's eyes, other humans are no longer competition but rather fellow travelers to whom we wish success.

Had the brothers, all of them, truly listened to each other, there would have been less tears, a true reconciliation, and smiles all around. Let's achieve that in our personal lives, it's much more fun.

Joseph seems to repeat the judgment error of his father with regards to his brother, Benjamin. After he has identified himself to the brothers, he sends them back to the land of Canaan to bring Jacob to Egypt. As departing gifts, he gives them all jackets. Benjamin, however, gets five jackets! He also gets 300 coins, something that his brothers did not get. Joseph is clearly favoring Benjamin, despite the chance that, once again, the brothers will be jealous and perhaps try to harm him on their way back to the land of Canaan. Why do it? He saw what happened to himself when his father did, hasn't he learned?

He has absolutely learned! In fact, Joseph makes one nuanced change in his treatment of Benjamin and the brothers: he also gives the other brothers jackets. When his father made his famous coat of many colors, he was the only recipient of any coat whatsoever. The brothers saw this as favoritism for Joseph at their own expense. It became him or them, and when the opportunity arose, they chose them.

Joseph, however, sends a very different message. You are all of worth, you all deserve jackets. Benjamin has a special role to fulfill, so therefore he gets five jackets and 300 pieces of money. It's not to denigrate or diminish you, it simply to recognize him as having a special role for all of our benefit. This, it seems, was Joseph's message all the time. When he originally chose to tell the brothers his dreams, it was not to make them feel small, but to make them recognize that his father's treatment of him was for the general good.

This, however, gives us a powerful insight into Joseph's psychology. It has been pointed out that the reconciliation of Joseph and his brothers remained incomplete until the end. Joseph never said to them, "You hurt me, and I need you to apologize." Instead, he reassured him that everything that they did was part of God's plan, "do not let this bother you." As a result, the brothers could not apologize, since Joseph was absolving them of any guilt. Why would he do that?

Within a family, there are two main types of relationships: 1. Brother to brother, and, 2. Parent to child. The first relationship involves a feeling of "us." The brothers are all in it together, they identify with each other. They may fight, they may share, but they all feel a connection of commonality. The second relationship is more of a "you" relationship. The parent is above, in a teacher-guidance counselor role. Parents rarely feel insulted by their children, because their love is immune to that. Siblings, on the other hand, take everything deeply personally.

I believe that Joseph, whether consciously or subconsciously, was terrified of the emotional minefield of brotherhood. It makes sense! After having been sold by your brothers to be a slave, you'd be traumatized too. We all have emotional coping mechanisms, and I believe that Joseph chose the parental relationship model as his. Indeed, Joseph uses the word itself when he tells the brothers that God "has made me like a father to Pharaoh."

Now things make sense. A parent will try to comfort a child, not seek comfort from the child. Joseph comforts his brothers, he tells them not to worry or feel guilty. He does not request comfort, or, in this case, apologies, from them. He puts himself above, not among, his brothers.

It is a coping mechanism, but it is not the ideal. In truth, perhaps Joseph would have been better to attempt to cross that emotional minefield, and discover the joy of true brotherhood on the other side. Instead, he stayed beside, or above, the field.

The shortcut to interpersonal excellence is this concept of brotherhood. In Israel, there are two magic words that can defuse almost any situation. When I have found myself in an argument with an Israeli, and feel the heat rising in me, that Israeli may use two words that change everything: "Ach sheli, my brother." I immediately feel that heat disappear, without even consciously processing it. There is something tremendously powerful about seeing oneself as together with someone else.

A parent is a wonderful thing, giving us comfort and guidance. Trying to be a parent, however, to our brothers, entails risks. First of all, parents can sometimes judge, and even punish, their children. We should never do this with our brothers. Second of all, there is a division between a parent and the child, which is necessary in that relationship, but toxic in a sibling relationship. Brothers must be together. If we use the phrase "my brother" more often, and view all others (except our parents!) as brothers, we will become real pros in interpersonal relationships

The Bible tells us that Rebecca was barren, so both she and her husband Isaac prayed to God for children. "And God accepted his prayer," says the Torah, "and his wife Rebecca became pregnant." The rabbis notice the nuance that it was Isaac's prayer that was excepted, not Rebecca's. In order to explain this seeming inequality, as Rebecca was a greatly righteous woman, the rabbis inform us that the prayer of a Tsaddik (righteous person) the son of a Tsaddik is more powerful than that of a Tsaddik the son of a rasha (evil person).

This, however, still seems to be quite unfair. If a person is righteous, what difference does it make what his parents were? Why should his prayer is not be as readily accepted?

I don't believe that this rule applies in every case. In the case of children, however, it very well may apply. After all, if the person praying is a Tsaddik the son of a Tsaddik, the odds are that the child will also be a Tsaddik. A pattern has been established. But if the Tsaddik is the son or daughter of a rasha, there's no guarantee what the child will choose for his life path. So, in this area, there is logic to accepting the prayer of a Tsaddik the son of the Tsaddik for children.

Indeed, Rebecca had twins. Their similarity, however, ended with the fact that they were born more or less together. Esav was a hunter, a man who functioned on the basis of violence and fighting. Jacob was a simple scholarly boy who "dwelled in the tents." Interestingly, it was Esav whom Isaac loved "because he was a hunter, in his parlance," while Rebecca loved Jacob. How did this come to be?

I believe the psychology here is very potent. First of all, it would seem that Esav came more from Rebecca's side of the family. How so? Both her father and her brother were deeply dishonest characters. About Laban, the brother, we will read much in the next sections of the Torah. His attempts to cheat and, ultimately, harm Jacob are clearly recorded. As for her father, Betuel, the Rabbis claim he sought to torpedo the match of Rebecca and Isaac by poisoning Eliezer, Abraham's servant, who had come to arrange that match.

The fact that Rebecca remained righteous in such a negative environment is a huge testimony to her tremendous spirituality. (Apparently it ran in the women of the family, as Laban's daughters, Rachel and Leah, were similarly righteous.) Nonetheless, in order for her to maintain her spirituality, she had to constantly be on guard against the influences of her own family. In her own way, she had to fight back. Esav, clearly, was an extreme expression of that "fighting back." He took no garbage from anyone, and often initiated the violence.

Jacob, on the other hand, was clearly the son of Isaac and the grandson of Abraham. He was, simply, a good boy. That makes sense, because Isaac grew up in an environment of goodness and kindness. The one possible negative influence, Ishmael, had been sent away by his perceptive mother when he was still young.

Isaac suffered anti-Semitism. He was not a fighter, and he was taken advantage of. The story of the wells that he dug, some of which were from the time of his father Abraham, illustrates this. Each time he dug or cleared such a well, the Philistines came and filled it with dirt. They contested every well he dug, every place he settled. Only when he had distanced himself sufficiently did the Philistines leave him alone.

I suspect that this is what attracted Isaac to Rebecca, and what made him love her son Esav. He saw in Rebecca a woman who could hold her own against hostile others. He saw that even more in Esav. He knew that this was a weakness of his, and these dear people made him complete.

On the flipside, Rebecca yearned for the pureness and innocence that she saw in Isaac. Growing up in a home of crooked people, she deeply needed to experience a world of goodness. She saw that in Isaac, and even more so in their son, Jacob.

In the end, Rebecca won the battle. At her urging, Jacob used deception to secure the blessing of his father Isaac. And when Isaac realize what happened, he confirmed that blessing. At that moment, the true nature of his boys became apparent to him.

One wonders how and Esav could come out of a Rebecca and Isaac! The answer is, Esav was not intrinsically evil! He did, however, make one fatal flaw in his choice of a path in life. He chose to live reactively, and to see others as his main obstacle. He allowed the hostility of others to define himself.

Jacob, on the other hand, chose to set his own agenda. He was not afraid of the world, but he refused to let the world define who he would be. He was born into a home of goodness and kindness. He believed in a beautiful world, and he set about to live his life in such a world. Wherever and whenever that world didn't cooperate, he was capable of coping with it. That, he inherited from his mother. Not only inherited, but he learned it from her as well. When she instructed him to bring the meat into his father and claimed to be Esav, she was teaching him to not be passive in the face of wrongdoing.

But, at the end of the day, Jacob lived his life for the beauty of the world of the beauty of tradition. That, and only that, was how he defined himself, and the people he begat.

There is a curious verse in the Bible that refers to the time of Enosh, the son of Seth (Adam and Eve's third son). "At that time (people) began to call upon the Name of the Lord." What prompted this? Did Adam and Eve not call upon the Name of the Lord themselves? Why was this a new thing?

The medieval commentator, Rashi, translates the verse differently: "At that time, God's name was profane and used to call people." In other words, people would refer to each other, and perhaps to the natural world, with names of divinity. God was no longer special, he was now represented by the forces of nature and by human beings.

Other commentators stay with the original translation and attempt to put a context to the need to call upon God's Name. They say that this refers to the righteous people in the generation, who were proclaiming God's existence and power to all who would listen. These commentaries see a parallel to Abraham, who proclaimed God's Name to the unbelievers. This was a response to the rise of idolatry, which was causing people to forget about God. These righteous people wanted to stop that trend.

How was it that they were forgetting about God? Rabbi Solomon Sorotzkin explains that the earlier generations gave honor to the forces of nature as representatives of God, whom everyone knew about. As time went on, however, those forces of nature became more important in people's eyes, especially since they could not see God Himself. Thus, there came a time when God was no longer part of the religious equation. There was now a need for the righteous people to remind the masses and proclaim that it was God who created and rules the world.

Rabbi Meir Simcha of Divinsk offers a fascinating insight into this process. According to him, humans stopped bringing sacrifices to God in the aftermath of Cain's killing of Abel. They were so horrified by what the sacrifices of those two brothers had brought about that they abolished the practice. In a more modern terms, because some people are killing each other in the name of religion, other people want nothing to do with religion.

I believe that the cessation of bringing sacrifices accelerated the spread of idolatry among human beings. Had people continued to bring sacrifices to God, they would not have forgotten Him. Let's look deeper into this process.

Why did Cain kill Abel? Granted, Abel's sacrifice was excepted while Cain's was rejected by God, but that was not Abel's fault! He did nothing to hurt his brother, so why was he murdered? Is jealousy that powerful? If so, why?

The root cause may lie in the sacrifices they brought, and the perceptions behind them. Cain brought some of the fruits of the land, while Abel brought the firstborn of his flocks. Abel's was the better sacrifice, clearly. It shows a desire to become close to God, and that is why God accepted it. This was deeply important to Abel. Cain, on the other hand, brought a sacrifice to appease God, so that he should not be punished.

I think that both brothers were looking back at their parents' sin with the Tree of Knowledge. The result of that sin was their expulsion from the Garden of Eden. There were two elements in this consequence, and each of the brothers emphasized one of them. Cain emphasized the aspect of punishment, of their expulsion from a good place and the suffering they would be forced to endure. Abel, on the other hand, emphasized the exile from God's direct presence, the distancing that their sin brought about. Thus, Cain brings a sacrifice to avoid punishment, while Abel brings a sacrifice to draw close to God again.

Now, when Cain sees that his brother's sacrifice was successful, he is fearful. He is afraid that he will appear in adequate by comparison, and that God will bring punishment upon him. "Abel is too good, he makes me look bad," Cain might say. Thus, his bitterness is directed foremost at his brother.

It goes deeper. God instructs humanity to not spill each other's blood, because "man was made in God's image." If we seek to become close to God, we must be close to our fellow man. "Love thy neighbor as thyself," is a core element of the Torah, and it includes and implies belief in God. The reverse is also true. If we are angry at our fellow man in a jealous fashion, we are, in truth, angry at God. This entire process comes as a result of fear of God's punishment, rather than love of God and desire to draw close to Him.

The power of speech is evident in the entire Genesis story. God created the world by speaking. He Eve was tempted to sin through speech, which was then rescinded from the snake. And notice how the Bible describes Cain killing Abel: "and Cain spoke to his brother Abel, and then when they were in the fields, Cain rose up and slew Abel his brother." It started with speech.

Speech is important, and powerful. Evil speech, slander and gossip, can kill. One needs to but read the news to know that this is true. When we look at other human beings as competitors for God's favor, we are attempted to harm them verbally, and sometimes physically. And when we do so, we limit God to being someone who plays favorites, whose favor is limited. By extension, then, gossip and slander are an attack on God's way of running the world.

Maybe that is what is meant by Rashi when he says that God's Name was profaned by its being applied to people and things. The generation of Enosh increasingly saw God as a, well, Greek god. A jealous, unfair, vindictive power that must be appeased. If someone else becomes God's favorite, it means that others will be punished.

This was a direct result of the cessation of sacrifices. Sacrifices are intended to draw man and God together, and not exclude anybody. The righteous tried to stop the trend by proclaiming God's Name, but it was too little too late. Parents are bonded to their children because of the sacrifices they make for them. Once man kind ceased bringing sacrifices to God, he became estranged from Him.

So to those who throw out the baby with the bathwater, I would say that Cain and Abel are not equal. Yes, some religions follow the pagan approach of seeing God as one who plays favorites. They ally with their God and kill all of the rivals. But there is a better way, the Abel way. See God as a loving, unlimited source of compassion and support. Seek to draw close to Him at every opportunity, and then you will seek to draw close to all of the amazing human beings that He has created.

Judaism believes that every man has the ability to transcend his animal nature and live off to the Torah's demands. We do not accept that man is doomed to sin. We do, however, understand that there's something called the Evil Inclination, and every human being is subject to one temptation or another. Nobody is perfect, and we all slip up at one time or another. Not every sin involve desecrating God's name, but some common ones do.

The medieval scholar, Rabbi Eliezer of Metz, teaches that any time a person denigrates one of God's commandments, that is a desecration of God's Name. The great Chofetz Haim explains that one whose sins from a natural lust does not necessarily desecrate God's Name. Rather, one who habitually sins those transgressions that do not bring some physical gratification DO desecrate God's Name. That is because the people who see them do not attribute their misbehavior too out of control passions, but rather to a casual disregard of God's Word.

Therefore, says the Chofetz Haim, speaking ill of others is also a desecration of God's Name. Why? Because unlike eating non-kosher food, or having an illicit affair, the pleasure to the speaker slandering his fellow is minimal. Therefore, those who hear these injurious words see that the speaker does not take God's commandments very seriously, and thus they themselves will have less respect for the Torah. That is a desecration of God's Name.

I would expand that to any behavior which is hurtful to another. The victim of such abuse by a person who wears the mantle of Torah cannot be expected to increase their religious devotion as a result! A person who cheats another, slanders another, harasses another damages them twice. There is the damage of the act itself, and the damage of causing them to become distant from God. I believe that most people leave religion do so because of a failed interpersonal relationship. Someone who represented Judaism to them hurt them.

If that is the case, then the opposite must certainly be true. God's name may be sanctified by exemplary behavior. Imagine, for a moment, that you are sitting with friends discussing your neighbors. One of the people there strongly dislikes them, and begins to tell some highly critical things about them. You are tempted to join in, because they aren't your favorite people either.

Now imagine that you feel something in your stomach telling you to be careful with your words. Just as you are about to relate a really juicy piece of negative gossip about them, you catch yourself. You say to your friends, "You know, I think we should change the topic." What effect will that have on those who are listening? They will understand why you change the topic, and they will gain new respect for you. What's more, by seeing how important the laws of the Torah are to you, they will gain respect for the Torah and more desire to learn it and keep it.

Sanctification of God's Name was the hallmark of one of the darkest periods in Jewish history. When the Crusaders, in the year 1096, set forth to "redeem the holy land," they perpetrated a number of pogroms and massacres in the Jewish communities of the Rhine Valley first. In tragic scenes repeated throughout the period, Jews chose to take their own lives rather than give up their religion and accept the beliefs of the Crusaders. They chose to die rather than convert. They are called Kedoshim, holy ones, for they committed the ultimate act of sanctification of God's Name. Those who saw such devotion could not help but believe that only believers in a true religion would have the strength of character to make the ultimate sacrifice.

King David, in the Psalms, says, "I shall not die, rather I shall live and tell the deeds of God." My teacher, Rabbi Ahron Soloveitchik, of blessed memory, emphatically states that this versus telling us the best way to sanctify God's Name. Dying for God's Name is unbelievably holy, and we should be spared the need. But we can also, and even more so, achieve great holiness by living for God's Name. Making sure that everything we do oozes respect for Torah, and that everyone was only have contact leaves a bit elevated by that contact.

And so the path of life is clear. One must do all in one's power to avoid causing hurt or injury to a fellow human being. One must never slander or gossip, because by doing so one causes a desecration of God's Name. Instead, one must go out of one's way to live ethically, to be kind and loving to all people. In other words, realize that people look at you and see God, so you should act in a godly matter.

The rabbis of the Talmud equate leprosy with a punishment for lashon hara, or evil, slanderous speech. The treatment of the leper involves him being isolated from the community, and this is seen as a punishment for his antisocial behavior. It makes sense. But there is a type of leprosy which is sometimes overlooked.

Clothing, specifically clothing of leather, wool, or linen, can also become infected with a plague. Now on a scientific level, this makes sense. This special type of leprosy is highly contagious, and the leper may have left the spores to grow in his clothing.

But an interesting question can lead to a fascinating discovery. The question, asked by Rabbi Zalman Sorotzkin, is why just three types of clothing? There are other materials out there as well! He answers that these three types of clothing can be found in the chapter of Genesis. Adam and Eve were given leather clothing by God after they ate from the tree of knowledge. Abel wore clothing made from the linen that he had grown. Cain were clothing made from wool, taken from his flocks.

Based on Rabbi Sorotzkin's connection of the leprosy disease to the origins of mankind, we can gain new insight into this remarkable phenomenon. What was accomplished when Adam and Eve ate from the tree of knowledge? Firstly, they became aware of their nakedness. How so?

The tree of knowledge could also have been called the tree of judgment. The snake enticed them by promising that they will be like "gods," or "judges," who can tell the difference between good and evil. And that, more or less, is what happened. They became judgmental. Once they were aware of good and evil, of better and worse, they started to look critically at each other. Hence, their nakedness became an issue. This horizontal focus lead in a direct line to Cain slaying his brother.

The one who slanders or speaks ill of another human being has justified their doing so by judging the other person. If the other person doesn't measure up, they feel they may speak against them. This unique disease is not merely a punishment, it is an outward manifestation of its root cause, viewing other people as "lepers."

A Talmudic Sage described his clothing as being his "honorers." Indeed, we wear clothing to protect our privacy, and to project our worth. Adam and Eve became aware that, just as they were judging each other, they were being judged by the other. Hence, the need to cover their own nakedness. The slanderer and the talebearer impugn the honor, the clothing, if you will, of the one whom they are attacking. They are seeking to remove their clothing, so to speak. As a result, their sin becomes manifest on their own clothing.

The moral of the story? The first step on the road to evil speech is judging our fellows. The Torah explicitly tells us to judge each other favorably, if we must judge at all. Lashon Hara is not just a sin of the mouth, it starts in the heart and mind. For this, some rose-colored glasses might not be a bad idea information

There is a Mishna that states: ".. A mitzva brings about another mitzvah, and a sin brings about another sin. The reward of a mitzva is a mitzva, and the reward of sin is a sin." What does this mean? How can the "reward of a sin" even exist? Shouldn't the Mishna say, "the loss of a sin is a sin?"

The story of Joseph and the brothers is a powerful one which addresses these issues head on. When the brothers come to Egypt to buy food and find themselves in front of a Joseph that they do not recognize, he decides to put them through the wringer. He accuses them of being spies, and forces them to bring their younger brother Benjamin back to Egypt with them the next time they come. What was the point of this whole exercise? Revenge? Don't think so at all.

Joseph is referred to as "Yosef hatzadik," or, Joseph the righteous one. This means more than just staying moral in an immoral land. Joseph is a "matzdik," someone who justifies what happens to him. That is how he could be a faithful servant when a prisoner in an Egyptian jail. Other men would've been broken, would have fallen into depression. Joseph took it upon himself to help out all the other prisoners.

The second meaning of "matzdik" is to cause others to be justified. Joseph sought to lift up all those with whom he had contact. His purpose was to help others discover the good in themselves, and improve their own lives. This is the reason he put his brothers through such an agonizing trial of character.

My teacher, Rabbi Aaron Soloveichik ZT"L, explained the brilliant psychological insight of Joseph. Joseph saw that his brothers were consumed by guilt. Now, guilt after a sin is a healthy thing IF it will lead to repentance. There is another kind of guilt which is destructive, and it is this to which the Mishna quoted above refers. It is when a person feels that they are so bad that they can never be good. That is the "reward" of sin that is a sin itself. A person throwing up their hands in surrender will never successfully repent. Thus, they have rewarded themselves with license to sin freely. That mindset is a sin.

The brothers believed that they were irredeemable. When they first come to Egypt, and Joseph accuses them of espionage, the brothers express their guilt to one another. "But we are guilty on account of our brother (Joseph) whose suffering we saw as he begged us to spare him. We did not listen to him." When Joseph hears this, he must leave the room and cry. Certainly it was an emotional moment for him, but his tears were more than simple emotion. He was crying because the brothers were, in effect, saying that they could never properly repent.

The musical notes that these words are read with in the synagogue are called "zarka." This means "throwing," and musically it goes down to the lowest part of the register. It symbolizes giving up, throwing away any hope and sinking into deep depression. The brothers felt they could never repent, that their sin was too great. Joseph, the great justifier, determined to prove to them otherwise.

The Rambam, in the laws of repentance, describes the ideal penitent as someone who "finds himself in the same place, with the same woman, and the same temptation, but refrains from sinning this time." Joseph engineered a situation where the brothers would be in an identical situation with Benjamin to that they were in with him years before. Having planted his cup in Benjamin's bag, Joseph seeks to keep Benjamin as a slave in Egypt, and allow the brothers to return home to their father. I believe that if the brothers had done this, Joseph would never have spoken to them again.

But they didn't! This time, Judah stepped up to the plate and took responsibility. He offered himself instead of his brother. It was safe to assume that some of the bitterness that Joseph had received from the brothers would be transferred to Benjamin, who became his father's next favorite son. The brothers could have easily gotten rid of this favorite as well, without having to lift a hand. But they didn't. That is what Joseph wanted them to see, that they were capable of becoming penitents. He wanted them to feel their own potential to do better.

And so it is when confronting a person who is broken in our eyes. Lecturing, haranguing and criticizing will only make things worse. Somehow, a way must be found to show the person their own potential. They must come to the realization that they need to change on their own. All we can do is show them love despite, not because of, their shortcomings. We don't want to encourage self-destructive behavior, but we do want to build up the self-confidence of this special person. Gentle encouragement to believe in oneself is the way of Joseph, the great justifier.

Moses first connects to God when he happens upon the burning bush. This bush, a dried out and highly flammable plant, was engulfed in flames. Miraculously, it remained unharmed and unburned. When Moses approaches, God informs him that he is standing upon holy ground, and he must remove his shoes. He then proceeds to instruct Moses of the mission: go to Egypt, bring the children of Israel out to freedom.

Moses is highly skeptical. First, he asks for all kinds of proofs and raises all kinds of potential problems. How do I know you will be with us? If they ask me what Your name is, what should I tell them? Each time, God reassures him and gives him usable answers.

Then, Moses hesitates again. "I have a heavy mouth and a heavy tongue," Moses said. God responds, "who will put a mouth in a man in the first place?" In other words, your stuttering should not slow you down. Nonetheless, Moses begs to have a spokesman, something which upsets God, but he agrees. He will send Moses's brother Aaron.

I never quite understood this entire dialogue. How can Moses argue with God? If God tells him he can do it, well darn it, he can!

There is a tension between the world of faith in the world of practical reality. In the world of faith, miracles are evident. But Moses, like Jacob before him, realizes that he lives in the world of practical reality. Jacob had been assured of a secure future, yet when he heard that Esau was coming with 400 men, he became terrified. What of God's assurance? It was not enough for Moses either, because Moses understood the apparent absurdity of his mission. He was supposed to go to Pharaoh and demand that he free hundreds of thousands of valuable slaves. How is that going to work?

In the world of faith, it's no problem. But in the real world, what hope would there be that Pharaoh would agree to such an outlandish request? And yet that is the symbolism of the burning bush. The physical world won't allow that bush to survive. But the physical world is not the only world we inhabit. Our world connects to the spiritual world, which is the world of faith. Our mission is to break through the physical limitations of the physical world, and bring the holiness of the spiritual world into our lives.

In other words, when you confront the burning bush, take off your shoes. That is where holiness is, in those windows into the world of faith. The bush was such a window.

But we do not commonly encountered burning bushes that are not consumed, so where can we access the spiritual world? Through our power of speech! Moses needed to learn this lesson, more than any other. Yes, he stuttered, and that should disqualify him from delivering such an important message. But God tells him that it is not the physical property of speech that matters, but the spiritual content of it. "Life and death are in the hands of speech," said King Solomon. The way we use our power of speech will determine if we inhabit a world that is connected to the spiritual world of faith.

So Moses had nothing to fear, because God promised He would be with him. Moses was afraid this promise wasn't enough, if he had to function in the physical world. God was telling him that his speech would be inspired, and would break through the limitations of the physical world. He would indeed get Pharaoh's attention.

What's fascinating is that Moses did not tell Pharaoh that his enslavement of the Hebrews was immoral. He didn't thunder about freedom and liberty as basic human rights. And when referring to God, he did not imply that God was also in charge of the Egyptians. He talked about the God of the Hebrews, and he talked about what would happen to the Hebrews if they aren't given the opportunity to go and sacrifice to Him. Not a word about the Egyptians, their theology, or what would happen to them.

All Moses said is, "let my people go to sacrifice to our God in the wilderness, lest He strike us with sword or plague." Fascinating. God is guiding Moses into the psychology of Pharaoh. The Egyptians believed in multitudes of gods, and believed that each nation had their own. He was not confronting Pharaoh, he was not insulting Pharaoh. He was speaking his language, and urging him to accept in his own terms the religious need to let the Israelites go.

Confrontation may be fun, and sometimes we certainly must speak truth to power, but there is a smarter way. Use our speech to connect with the other, and to gently move them on the path of spirituality. The way we talked determines how much of a miraculous life we can live. We should take courage from Moses's example, and not be afraid to go and talk to Pharaoh. And we should take heed of how God instructed Moses to do so, with understanding and a determination to communicate.

The Torah epic of Jacob, Joseph and his brothers is an epic of tragic mistake after tragic mistake. Jacob showed favoritism to Joseph and gave him the (in)famous coat. Joseph dreamed of reigning over his brothers, of them all bowing down to him. He then had the political bad sense to actually tell them these dreams, which further fanned the flames.

Then, Jacob sends him alone to check up on the brothers working with the flocks near Shechem. He's appointed, it seems, Joseph to be his supervisor, and sends him unarmed to be with his already hate-filled brothers. And then they err in allowing their anger to dominate them and nearly kill Joseph, choosing at the last minute to sell him to slavery...

Lives are ruined, relationships never to properly recover, Jacob about to spend years in mourning for a son who is not dead, and jealous brothers refusing to admit their deed, comfort their father and do what they can to find Joseph and reunite the family.

Yes, these were all tremendous, life-changing mistakes that indeed did doom many of the participants to years of guilt.

And, yet, if one thinks about it, each of these mistakes was an inexorable part of Joseph's path to the premiership of Egypt, of the ultimate saving of untold thousands of souls from starvation during a famine, and of the literal fulfillment of Joseph's original dreams! In fact, had Jacob been a fairer parent, and had Joseph been more modest, this happy ending might not have ever come to pass!

To be sure, God has many ways to see His will fulfilled, so this was not the only scenario. Nonetheless, it is the way it happened, so how should we understand it?

I think that all of these deeds are the result of Jacob's mode of operation in his early life. He was, as you may recall, born clasping Esav's heel. He was a bit of a manipulator, from getting the birthright from Esav for some soup, to getting the blessings from Isaac by a ruse, to getting his wages and his way with Lavan.

Another fact to remember is Jacob's superhuman strength when he saw Rachel for the first time. It was more than just love that moved him, it was the confidence and the feeling of destiny when he saw God's providence and his future combined in Rachel's eyes. Whenever Jacob got confirmation from God that he was on the right path, he was always filled with inspiration.

But things got confusing for Jacob, as Lavan switched his bride at the ceremony and he married Leah instead. All of the children that were born to Leah and the two maidservants Bilhah and Zilpah were not part of Jacob's original desire. He had wanted to marry only Rachel. Thus, it was Rachel's son, Joseph, in whom Jacob saw the future confirmed again. It excited him, and he showed favoritism.

Joseph, too, had this awareness about himself. He knew he had a major part to play in God's running of the world, and it excited him. He could not keep his mouth shut, even when he should have sensed it politic to do so.

None of this is to make excuses, but to show something. Each person here made a mistake, and that mistake was a human one with Divine consequences. That is the meaning of "Remove the Satan from behind us." As the Talmudic sage Nachum of Gimzo was wont to say, "This, too, is for the good." We should stop beating ourselves up about the past, because we cannot change the past. We can only change our reaction to it, and our direction for the future. Guilt that does not motivate better behavior is unhealthy, and does not allow one to recognize the Divine gift of free choice to change our present and future.

We all make mistakes, and we should try to do better. But if, after the test was taken, we have failed, it is proper to look forward. What good can come out of this? How can I learn to do better next time? How can I deepen this ruptured relationship? May Hashem help us remove the Satan of helpless guilt from behind us, and help us look to the future. We may just see a tremendous opportunity sprouting in the ashes of a past mistake.

Jacob, as he prepared to return to the Land of Canaan after spending a couple of decades with his in-laws in Mesopotamia, was quite terrified. He had fled to Lavan in the first place because of his brother Esav's open musings about fratricide. Now, as he was about to return, he did not know what greeting his brother would give him. Would it be a hug, or a knife?

And so he prepared three different methods of ensuring his survival: Gifts, battle and prayer. He sent lavish gifts to Esav with an entreaty for brotherly forgiveness. He divided the camp up so that if battle should break out, they would be able to survive, if not prevail. And, finally, he prayed to God, "Save me from my brother Esav, for I fear he may try to smite mother and children."

And then, after Jacob had transported his family across a place called Maavar Yabbok, he returned alone to the other side. According to our sages, he had forgotten some small containers. It was there, when he was alone, that the mysterious "man", identified as Esav's guardian angel, fought with him until dawn. As the night ended, the "man" famously wounded Jacob's thigh, causing him to limp. Thus the Torah explains the future prohibition on eating an animal's sciatic nerve.

As the dawn breaks, the "man" wishes for Jacob to release him. Jacob refuses until the "man" blesses him. Obligingly, the "man" informs Jacob that his name shall henceforth be "Yisrael, for you have struggled (sarita) with God and man and prevailed."

Now, if I were a sports commentator, I would assume that the "man" had won, since he had seriously wounded Jacob. Yet we see that it was the "man" who begged to be released! Further, the "blessing" Jacob got seems to be nothing more than a name change. It's not a blessing that he should win the lottery or something. How is a name change a blessing?

The commentary Oznaim LaTorah points out that of Jacob's three plans of action, gifts, battle and prayer, it was only prayer that became practical. Jacob may have thought to rely on his wealth to appease Esav, but that wealth, in the form of the small containers he went back for, caused him to endanger his life. As King Solomon says, "There is wealth guarded for a man to his detriment."

As for war, well, as a new cripple, this is no longer relevant. He's not the superhero who lifts huge stones by himself anymore. He can barely walk straight.

Which leaves prayer. This is the true power of Jacob. Earlier in his life, as he misled his father to get the blessings of the firstborn, Isaac had said "Your hands are the hands of Esav, but your voice is the voice of Jacob." Indeed, this was exactly Jacob's earlier way of interacting with the world, trying to be Esav. The name Jacob comes from "heel", and he was called this because he emerged from Rebekkah's womb grasping Esav's heel.

Jacob had always felt threatened, and was often fearful. His way of dealing with the challenges in this world was to do things in an earthly fashion. He used deception and raw strength. He planned to use wealth and power to survive the encounter with Esav. Those are the tools of a Jacob, who is grasping at the heel of an earthy Esav.

So, in fact, it was a great blessing that the "man" gave him. He changed his name, he changed his self-perception. No longer is he grasping at someone's heel and trying to make his way in a tough world. He has been turned upside down, he is now struggling with God and godliness, and only then with man and humanity. He has become a man of God, and his new weapon is the most powerful one of all, his Voice. His prayers.

Thus, even though on a physical sense the "man" had prevailed, the encounter had transformed Jacob. He was no longer going to rely on his strength or wealth, only on his voice. The voice of Jacob, the power of his prayer, is far superior to the strength of the "man", and thus it was the "man" who was vanquished.

And, anticlimactically, so was Esav transformed. According to the sages, he indeed had been intent upon attacking Jacob. But, for some inexplicable reason, he became merciful at that moment. The Torah has dots on top of the word "And he kissed him" to indicate that this was a special event that happened in that moment. How did it happen?

Simple. Esav had planned to kill Jacob. The man standing before him now was Yisrael. He had planned to attack his manipulative brother. Instead, he met a man of God.

Thus, I firmly believe that when the State of Israel behaves according to her name, Yisrael, people will see a nation of God.