Timeless Torah

The dreamer had been promoted. The famine he predicted had come to pass and the dreams of lordship over his brothers were soon to unfold. And so unaware of the great drama about to engulf them, Joseph’s brothers journeyed to Egypt. While they imagined their mission was merely to buy food, they received more than they bargained for. Arriving at the palace they bowed where, “Joseph recognized his brothers...but he behaved like a stranger and spoke harshly to them...They did not recognize him.”

If we are to understand what is at stake, we have to analyze three earlier episodes. Scene one: Isaac, both old and blind commands his elder son to go out into the field, trap an animal and prepare a meal so that he can bless him. Surprisingly soon, someone enters identifying himself as Eisav, the elder son. Isaac is not convinced and reaches out to feel the rough texture of the skins covering the man’s arms. So Isaac blesses him. But it is not Eisav. It is Jacob in disguise.

Scene two: Jacob has fled to his uncle’s house where he falls in love with Rachel, and offers to work for seven years in order to marry her. The time passes quickly and soon the wedding day approaches. Lavan makes a feast. The bride enters her tent. Late at night, Jacob follows her. Now at last he has married his beloved Rachel. When morning comes, he discovers that he has been the victim of a deception. It is not Rachel. It is Leah in disguise.

Scene three: The eldest of Judah’s sons marries a local girl, Tamar, but dies mysteriously, leaving his wife a childless widow. Following a pre-Mosaic version of the law of levirate marriage, a second son weds Tamar so that she can have a child. He is loathe to have a son that will, in effect, belong to his late brother so he, “Spilled his seed,” and for this he too died young. Judah is reluctant to give Tamar his third son, so she is left an agunah-chained, and thus prevented from marrying anyone else.

The years pass. Judah’s own wife dies. Returning home from sheep-shearing, he sees a veiled prostitute and he sleeps with her, promising by way of payment, a kid from the flock. She asks him for his, “Seal, cloak, and staff,” as security. The next day the woman disappears. But Judah cannot be bothered for soon word reaches his ear that his daughter-in-law has become pregnant. He is incensed. Bound to his youngest son, she was not allowed to have another relationship and is guilty of adultery.

Brought out to be killed, she sends Judah his seal, cloak, and staff. “The father of my child,” she says, “is the man to whom these things belong.” Immediately, Judah understands. Tamar, unable to marry yet honour-bound to have a child to perpetuate the memory of her first husband, has tricked her father-in-law into performing the duty he should have allowed his youngest son to do. “She is more righteous than I,” Judah admits. He thought he had slept with a prostitute. But it was Tamar in disguise.

That is the context against which the meeting between Joseph and his brothers must be understood. The man the brothers bow down to bears no resemblance to a Hebrew shepherd. He speaks Egyptian. He is dressed in an Egyptian ruler’s robes. They think they are in the presence of an Egyptian prince, but it is Joseph, their brother in disguise.

Four scenes, four disguises, four failures to see behind the mask. What do they have in common? Something very striking. Only when they appear as someone other than they are can they achieve what they seek; for Jacob, his father’s blessing; for Leah, a husband; for Tamar, a son; for Joseph, the non-hostile attention of his brothers.

Do the disguises work? In the short term, yes; but in the long term, not necessarily. Jacob suffered greatly for having taken Eisav’s blessing. Leah, though she married Jacob, never won his full love. Tamar had a child but Judah, “was not intimate with her any more.” As for Joseph, his brothers may have no longer hated him, but they did fear him. Even after his assurances that he bore them no grudge, they still thought he would take revenge on them after their father died. What we achieve in disguise is never the love we sought.

But something else happened. Jacob, Leah, Tamar and Joseph discovered that, though they did not win their family’s affection, G-d’s love is always with them; and ultimately, that is more than enough. A disguise is an act of hiding; from others, and perhaps from oneself. From G-d, however, we cannot, nor do we need to, hide. He hears our cry. He answers our prayer. He heeds the unheeded and brings them comfort. In the aftermath of the four episodes, there is no healing of relationship but there is a mending of identity.
Of the two rabbinic holidays, Purim is also filled with disguises. Thus Esther acted the part of a happy Persian Queen, and Haman created the illusion that he had the king’s best interests at heart. Chanukah however requires no masquerade.

The Macabbees stood before He Who Sees All and therefore did not hide their belief or their intentions. Twenty three centuries later we too light the Menorah where all can see. Chanukah teaches us that we do not have to hide our Judaism.