Translated by Yaakov Tzemach
Uriel Simon, professor emeritus in the Bible department of Bar Ilan, tells a story that occurred when he was seven years old. He was sick and had to stay home from school one day. He had no children’s books in his home, so when he asked his father for something to do, his father handed him a Tana”ch. He recalls sitting and reading through the Chumash (Bible) until he got to the story of Yosef (Joseph)and his brothers. When he read about the brothers’ cruelty towards Yosef, young Uriel began to cry.
Nearly seventy years have since passed, and Professor Simon has continued to struggle with this story. Eventually he came to the conclusion that this is indeed an optimistic story. In his words: “A story of change which describes how the heroes overcame themselves and righted their path; it is essentially an ethical story with an optimistic spirit” ("Seek Peace" p. 58) .
I would like to outline Professor Simon’s claim (p. 85-88).
The source of all the trouble that befell Yaakov (Jacob) is his preferential treatment of Yosef over his brothers, thereby arousing the brothers’ hatred and jealousy of Yosef. In regards to this incident the Midrash (BR 84, 8) warns: “One must not differentiate between his children, for on account of a striped coat ‘they hated him’ (Bereishit 37:4)”. The special love that Yosef received comes from, among other things, the fact that he was the first-born son of Rachel, Yaakov’s most beloved wife, and because he was a “ben zekunim," a child born in one's later years, to Yaakov – he had waited many years for him to be born.
The acts of service that typify the special relationship between Yaakov and Yosef were mutual. Yaakov sewed a special striped coat exclusively for Yosef and Yosef brought back critical reports about his brothers to his father. This attests to Yosef’s preference towards his relationship with his father over standing in solidarity with his brothers. The brothers’ feelings of hatred and jealous lead them to not only act against Yosef by selling him into slavery but also to cause tremendous emotional damage to their father in bringing him Yosef’s blood-stained coat and asking him: “Please identify if this is your son’s coat or not?” (Bereishit 37:32).
At the end of the story, Binyamin (Benjamin), Rachel’s second son, became Yaakov’s new favorite son. When Yosef’s brothers descend to Mitzrayim (Egypt) in attempt to buy food during the famine in Canaan, Yosef frames Binyamin as if he stole his goblet and threatens to keep him in Mitzrayim as a slave. Herein lies the role reversal which represents the progress the brothers as a whole, and Yehuda (Judah) in particular, make throughout the story.
Yehuda recognized that once again there is a favorite son – this time Binyamin. In the past, Yehuda had played the role of the aggressor towards the favorite, but this time he had the opposite reaction; he sacrificed himself to safe his favored brother out of consideration for his father (Bereishit 44:33). When Yosef witnesses Yehuda’s sacrifice, he is so emotional that he cannot hold back.
Then comes the most dramatic moment in all of Tana”ch, when the leader of Mitzrayim reveals his true identity: “And he raised his voice in a cry, and Mitzrayim heard and Pa’aroh’s house heard. And Yosef said to his brothers ‘I am Yosef; is my father still alive?’ And his brothers could not answer him, because they were shocked before him.” (Berieshit 45:2-3).
Yehuda is not the only one who demonstrates great inner strength in this story; Yosef holds back feelings of revenge and instead relates to his brothers with affection and excitement, kisses them and cries together with them (Bereishit 45:15). Yosef even tries to ease their feeling of guilt: “And now do not worry and be not angry with yourselves that you sold me here, because for sustenance God sent me before you” (Bereishit 45:5).
The significance of the happy ending of the story of Yosef and his brothers can be better appreciated by viewing it in the context of the book of Genesis, Sefer Bereishit, in its entirety. The central theme of Sefer Bereishit is the interpersonal tension between brothers. The story of the first set of brothers – Cain and Abel – ends with murder. The stories of Isaac and Ishmael, Jacob and Esau, and Yosef and his brothers follow. Each story comes to a resolution, and we can even discern a positive progression from story to story. In other words, after the forced separation between Isaac and Ishmael, the Torah describes how they bury their father, Abraham, together (Bereishit 25:9). Similarly, with Jacob and Esau, the Torah depicts a similar image in which the brothers bury their father together in the Cave of the Patriarchs, Me’arat Hapachpela (Bereishit 35:29).
This image is presented alongside a description of the reconciliation achieved between them (Bereishit 33:4-11). Yosef and his brothers take it a step beyond reconciliation; each side undergoes a fundamental change. As Professor Simon points out, the positive development in the relationship between brothers continues and peaks in the book of Exodus, Sefer Shemot – which opens with another set of brothers, Moses and Aaron, whose relationship represents the ideal state of brotherhood and partnership. In fact, according to the midrash (Tanchuma Shemot 27), the verse “How good and nice it is, brothers sitting, also together” (Tehilim 139:1) is referring to them. This is the basic outline of Professor Simone’s conception of the story.
A people that is a family
Why does Sefer Bereishit focus so intensively on the relationships between brothers? Sefer Bereishit, the precursor to forming of the Jewish People, Am Yosroel, much to our surprise, does not deal with the founding of a nation or political events, but instead focuses almost exclusively on familial interactions – the relationships between brothers, the relationship between parents and children, relationships between man and woman. The reason, I believe, is tied to one of the special characteristics of Am Yisroel – we are not just a nation, but also a family – a people that is family.
The connection between peoplehood and family starts with the selection of Abraham to be “a great and powerful nation, and all the nations of the world will be blessed through him” (Bereishit 18:18). This selection was not based on his leadership abilities, but rather on faith in his strengths regarding family, his ability to pass down values to his children and household, as the next verse states: “For I know, because he will command his children and his household after him, and they will guard the path of HaShem to do righteousness and justice. Judaism sees the family as the focal point for transmitting the heritage.
The commands to “tell your children” (Shemot 13:8) “and teach your children” (Devarim 6:7), and “teach them to your children” (ibid 11:19) are repeated in various forms throughout the Torah. Moreover, while the Torah emphasizes the importance of the family unit, it also fosters a consciousness that Am Yisroel as a whole is a family. The word “ach” or “brother,” which repeatedly appears in Hebraic and Torah law is not a mere semantical issue; it is a mandate for how man should relate to others.
In relationships between strangers, it is enough not to inflict harm one another – “live and let live.” A relationship between brothers, on the other hand, requires solidarity and mutual support. From here comes the requirement not to ignore the struggle of others: “You shall not see your brother’s ox or his sheep astray and ignore them; you must return them to your brother… you shall not see your brother’s donkey or his ox collapsing on the path and ignore them. Set it upright with him” (Devarim 22:1, 4).
Having grown up outside of Israel, I do not take the feeling of solidarity which is so engrained in Israeli culture for granted. The communal solidarity felt for prisoners of war stems from a feeling that we are all part of one family. I do not recall Americans feeling similarly regarding prisoners of war in Vietnam, although others may. I also believe that the intensity of the inner-conflicts we experience amongst ourselves comes from the same place. We fight like family. In America, the public discourse may be calmer, but I believe this politeness comes from a place of distance and estrangement, not closeness and sensitivity. Many Israelis who grew up in Israel realize this aspect of the Israeli experience specifically when they leave the country. During my trip to India, it stood out to me how much the Israelis I met along the wanted to be with one another.
Family life in Israel has two aspects. First is the importance of the family unit itself. The second is the attempt to bring the feeling of brotherhood onto wider social circles. There have been countries in recent history that have tried to do just the opposite. Natan Sharansky, in his book “See No Evil,” tells the story of a young boy who became a Soviet hero for turning in his father who kept some produce for his family instead turning it all in to the Soviet police as he was supposed to do. After the father was arrested and deported to Siberia, the child was murdered by family members. He was made into a Soviet national hero for choosing national solidarity over standing in solidarity with his family.
This idea, however, that less faithfulness to family will yield more faithfulness to the national cause, promoted by the Soviet government, has proven to be mistaken. There is a joke about the Soviet boy who, when asked who his father is, would reply “Papa Stalin”; when asked who is mother is, he would answer “Mother Russia”; when asked what he wants to be when he grows up, he would proclaim, “An orphan!” The Torah perspective, on the other hand, leads us to build a familial relationship with all of its society.
At the end of Parshat Toldot appears the following pasuk: “And Isaac sent Jacob, and he went to Padan Aram to Laban the son of Bethuel the Aramite, brother of Rebecca, mother of Jacob and Esau” (Bereishit 28:5). Rashi (ad loc) asks: Why does the Torah see it necessary to reiterate here that Rebecca is the mother of the two brothers, a fact that had been previously mentioned numerous times?
My beloved teacher, Rav Aharon Lichtenstein zt”l, suggests an answer. Oftentimes, power struggles within a family leave all sides in confrontation and with feelings hatred towards one another. The Torah went out of its way to make clear that Rebecca is the mother of both sons in order to emphasize that, despite the fact that Rebecca supported Jacob in the battle for the birthright, she still identified as the mother of Esau as well.
When Rebecca shares with Jacob her suspicions that Esau plans to murder him, she finishes by saying: “Why should I lose both of you in one day?” (Bereishit 27:45). She was worried not just about losing Jacob but also Esau, who would thus become a murderer. Similarly amongst ourselves – we can argue and fight and believe in opposing ideologies, but we must never forget that we are ultimately a family.