The saga of Yosef - which will now occupy us until the end of Sefer Breisheit - is one of the most dramatic and compelling stories not only in Tanach, but in all of literature. Sibling rivalry; a fall from grace; suffering; reunion and redemption - it's all here, folks.



In this first installment, Yosef is betrayed by his brothers, cast into the depths, sold into slavery. Perhaps his lowest point comes after he has risen to a dignified position in the home of Potiphar. He is then slandered by Potiphar's wife and thrown once again in the dungeon.



Yet, even there, Yosef shines. He befriends the imprisoned wine steward and baker and interprets their dreams. He has hope once more of being freed, relying on his new "friend in high places," the valet, to put in a good word with Pharoah. Yet the sedra ends on a decidedly downbeat note, as the steward forgets Yosef, who languishes alone in his cell. Chazal point a critical finger at our hero, saying he should never have depended on a mere mortal for help.



But why not? Don't we do that all the time? Don't we believe G-d has "many messengers," who are sent to assist us? Don't we utilize all the resources at our command, choosing to be an active participant in our own advancement, rather than simply waiting for a miracle to occur?



Yes, we do. And we take advantage of all the loopholes, dispensations, lenient rulings and sympathetic heterim we can find. And that's perfectly valid; for as long as we stay within the four walls of Halacha, we are protected and safe.



But Yosef needed to be different, to project another kind of model for the Jewish People. He was the recipient of total Divine assistance, 100% hashgacha pratit. He had to know that he was safely locked in Hashem's tractor-beam, and did not have to rely on conventional strategies, nor on kulot to survive. He was the exception to the rule.



Isn't that also the message of Chanuka? Halachically, we could have lit the menorah with oil that was less than pure, for when all the community is tamei (impure), say our sages, then no one is. But we opted to use only that one little jar of oil that retained the unbroken seal of purity. Like olive oil, which will not mix with lesser liquids, we refused to dilute our purpose and our character and settle for less.



I suggest to you that it is that Maccabean spirit, so perfectly Yosef and so perfectly Jewish, a spirit that demands excellence and will not be compromised, which fuels our long - and ultimately triumphant - journey through history.