The drama continues. After being apart for 22 years, Yosef and his brothers again come face to face. But something is strange: "Yosef recognized his brothers, but they did not recognize Yosef." (42:8) Why not?



The commentators offer various reasons:



1) When Yosef was sold into slavery (at age 17), he did not have a beard; now he had one. The brothers - except for the youngest - had all had beards back then.



2) Though the person before them looked like Yosef, they could not imagine that their brother would have ended up in the palace of the Pharoah! They assumed this was just a look-alike, a "dead ringer" for Yosef.



3) A person can change a lot from 17 to 39, and Yosef was now in royal robes, perhaps had a bit of makeup on, and he let a translator (his son) speak for him, so his voice wasn't heard.



I would like to add another thought. Maybe the pasuk isn't only talking in physical terms. Maybe the brothers didn't recognize Yosef because he had changed significantly as a person. He was no longer the flippant, impetuous, perhaps a-bit-too-arrogant na'ar he had been as a teenager. Now he was convinced that Hashem was in charge, that the greatest honor one can have is to be the messenger of the King, and not the King himself. He carried himself differently.



13 years at the bottom of a pit can give you a whole new perspective on life and change you dramatically.



But the brothers, alas, hadn't changed all that much; they were still at each other's throats. Reuven was upset that Yosef had been sold while he was gone. Yehuda was roundly criticized for not talking them out of the whole idea. They were brothers without a brotherhood.



So, Yosef devises a whole scenario whereby they "return to the scene of the crime" and must decide whether they will stand together as one, or sell their youngest sibling (Binyamin) down the river (Nile). When they ultimately choose to defend their brother, Yosef knows that they, too, have changed for the best and that they, too, have grown.



On Chanukah, we light our candles progressively, so that one light follows another in a straight line. Rabbi Nachman says we do it this way so we can plot our growth from one day to the next. Each day is its own opportunity to go forward. The menorah affirms that a human being must strive, each and every day, to add light and kedusha to his life.



May we all be brighter, wiser and more unified as a people today than we were yesterday.



Chanukah sameyach!