Knowing the Inside Scoop of God's Plan

Parshat Vayigash

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Shortly after revealing himself to his brothers, Yosef tells them that “It has already been two years of famine throughout the land, but there will be five more years where there will be no plowing and [no] harvest.” (45:6)

 Why doesn’t he just say there will be no food? Ramban translates Yosef’s statement here to mean exactly that. But if that’s what Yosef meant, why didn’t he just say it? Furthermore, why mention both? Isn’t it obvious that if you’re not plowing, you won’t be harvesting?

Dreaming and Rising to the Top

Parshat Miketz

by Rabbi Avi Billet

“Strange as it seems there’s been a run of crazy dreams” sings the narrator in the musical about Joseph. And it seems that what is most needed is a dream interpreter. What a strange time to live in when people who are not prophets receive messages from the Master of the World that are, in their own way, prophetic.

 Rav Amnon Bazak wrote his analysis of the dreams of these parshas pointing out the stages of the dreams in what looks like a developing pattern.

Filling the Emptiness with Inspiration

My thanks to Rabbi Zvi Romm for the inspiration

Parshat Vayeshev (and Chanukah)

 by Rabbi Avi Billet 

When Yosef was confronted by the temptress, his master Potiphar’s wife, the Talmud says he was able to control himself and overcome her advances because he saw his father Yaakov's image appear "in the window." If an image popped into his head or mind, why did it specifically need to be seen in a window? The old cartoon method of having a conscience on the shoulder, countering the little red guy who is telling him to sin, might accomplish the same mission! Why the window?

You Go, and You Go Too

Parshat Vaychi

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Yosef is sworn to bury Yaakov in the land of Canaan at the very beginning of the Torah portion. (47:29-30) After he blesses his sons and gives them his final messages, Yaakov instructs all of his sons to bury him in the Me’arat Hamachpela, the burial plot where his wife, parents and grandparents are buried. (49:29-32)

                

With the promise of Yosef, second in command of Egypt, that he’ll be buried in the family plot in Canaan, why does he feel the need to instruct his sons as well?

                

Ramban posits that Yaakov was concerned that Yosef would not be given permission to go due to his position.

                

As it turns out, after his father dies, Yosef seems unable to speak with Pharaoh directly, to get the permission needed to go. He appeals to “Beit Paroh” (the Household of Pharaoh), asking them to beseech the king, on account of the promise he made to his father.

                

Pharaoh’s response is telling; “Go up and bury your father, to fulfill that which he made you swear," he says, suggesting, as many note, that without the promise, it is questionable whether that permission would have been granted. 

                

More simply, Ibn Ezra explains that he was merely commanding his sons to accompany Yosef. He doesn’t ask for any response from them and he doesn’t get any response from them. He essentially commands them, and then he dies.

                

Along similar lines, Or HaChaim says, “He didn’t want them to think that he only obligated Yosef alone to accompany him to burial, and so he commanded all of them to be involved. He didn’t need to have them swear, because they will all fulfill his word.”

                

These answers are satisfactory on one level, but when we consider the concern the brothers seemed to have for Yaakov when Binyamin was in trouble at the end of Parshat Miketz and in last week’s parsha, wouldn’t it seem obvious that they’d all want to go to their father’s funeral?

                

Clearly Yaakov was not convinced that they’d all want to go. Yosef may have needed an oath to grant him leave from his position, but what was tying the brothers to Egypt that Yaakov felt would hold them back from participating in his funeral were it not for his dying wish that they accompany his body on its final journey?

                

The brothers obviously had no political roles which prevented them from leaving. Were that the case, Yaakov would have had to make them swear as well. So what did it – what caused Yaakov to need to give his sons instructions to go?

                

The only things that have demonstrably changed since last week’s parsha are that the family has moved to Egypt (and all that comes with adjusting to a new location, culture, and society), Yosef has been reintroduced to the family life, Yaakov has started to play favorites again (see how he has claimed Ephraim and Menashe as replacements for Reuven and Shimon), and he has given his sons his last will and blessings.

                

Maybe they loved Egypt so much. On the other hand, maybe the uprooting, the favoring Yosef and his children, and the (in some cases) not-exactly blessings caused the old animosities to creep back into the family. We know Yaakov spent the first 17 years of Yosef’s life favoring Yosef, and now we see he spent the last 17 years of his own life favoring Yosef once again.

                

Maybe, in the heat of the final moments, between the blessings that may have been misunderstood (or understood all too well) along with the thought that “Our brothers will go. What’s the big deal if a couple of us stay behind?” – after all, it’s a long journey, a long time to leave the wives and children alone, and without Yosef’s protection – maybe some were feeling not so close to Yaakov. Maybe they felt, “I put in my time taking care of the old man. I’m done. I’ll sit shiva, but I won’t make the trek to Canaan.”

                

Yaakov was teaching his sons that a father is a father. And that no matter what you’re thinking, no matter what baggage you carry, no matter how much you like or don’t like your father’s final message – you still have to honor your father in his final journey.

                

Life has its challenges. Hopefully when it ends for the loved ones in our lives – after 120 years! – we will be able to put any negativity behind us, and embrace our responsibilities to care for the dead, and be there for their final journey*, wherever they are to be buried. 

* (Personal health and financial circumstances notwithstanding, of course)

Yosef's Pharaoh: Old or Young?

Parshat Miketz

By Rabbi Avi Billet

We are well aware of the ages of Yosef and Yaakov in their journeys  through Egypt. Yosef was 17 when he was sold, 30 when he stood before Pharaoh, and 39 when his brothers came to Egypt looking for food.

                

Yaakov was 108 when Yosef was sent to Egypt, and he tells Pharaoh in Vayigash that he is 130, after Pharaoh asks him “How old are you?”

                

The question is, how old was this Pharaoh? Not knowing which of the Egyptian Pharaohs he was, nor exactly when Yosef was elevated to viceroy, we can not say with any certainty.

                

But in reading the narrative, the possibility lends itself that Pharaoh was much younger, in line with the reality that some of the Pharaohs were boys when they assumed the leadership of ancient Egypt.

                

Does it really matter how old he was? Probably not. But his age, especially if he was much younger, does explain many of the questions we may have in trying to understand how Pharaoh took such a liking to Yosef so quickly.

                

His impetuousness caused him to throw his Chief Cupbearer and Chief Baker into prison. And even such a youthful obstinance could call for the death of his Chief Baker. Especially if he relies heavily on the advice of others. 

                

He celebrates a birthday. He doesn’t trust any of his advisors when it comes to interpreting his dream. He meets Yosef, a young, handsome, seemingly trustworthy man. He develops an instant accord with him, and takes his advice to such an extent that he gives Yosef the keys to the kingdom putting him in charge of all the food for the years of Plenty.

                

Was Pharaoh incapable of using someone in-house? Was he unable to supervise the efforts himself?

                

If we view him as a youth, relatively inexperienced, we can understand why Pharaoh feels the way he does towards Yosef. Everyone else who speaks to him patronizes him. Everyone else thinks they are working in his best interest. And he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like being babied, being pampered, and being treated as if any idea which he thinks of won’t work because he is merely a youth.

                

Yosef comes along, and treats the king in the manner the king wants to be treated. As a human being. As an equal. As a king. As a ruler. Especially one who is capable of making his own decisions.

                

In a sense, we can suggest that Pharaoh is looking to make Yosef as the father-figure he is lacking in his life. Yosef even states, when he reveals himself to his brothers, “God has made me a father to Pharaoh, and a master over all of Egypt.” (45:8) And this is why, when Yosef makes his suggestion to Pharaoh, that Pharaoh should appoint a man over the food undertaking (41:33), putting in Pharaoh’s hands alone the decision of whom to choose – not making it dependent on the insights of his advisors – Pharaoh is enamored and enraptured and feels Yosef will be the best person to fill the role. He’ll be a personal confidant to Pharaoh, an outsider who understands the king, who has been through a different kind of school of hard knocks (though for Yosef it was prison, while for Pharaoh it was taking control of Egypt at such a young age).

                

I can’t prove this theory. The only evidence I’ve found referring to Pharaoh’s age actually has him as a much much older man (see Torah Shleimah on 47:8) – but there is no evidence in ancient Egypt (that I am aware of) to support an over 100-year old Pharaoh.

                

The lesson to take from this is either that young people need mentors, or that they need to be given a chance. If Pharaoh was younger, and was looking to Yosef to be his mentor, the relationship worked splendidly.

                

And if, in fact, Yosef was younger, then he was given the chance he needed to exercise his talents in a field where he could shine. The opportunity afforded to him by Pharaoh may have come from an attitude that says, “I’ll give this kid a chance. And if he messes up, he’s expendable. But if he proves himself, and the first impression he has given is correct, then we will all benefit from his success.”

                

Based on how the tale of Egypt’s, and the world’s survival at that time follows in the Torah, it seems everyone did benefit from Yosef’s success.

                

If only the world can still acknowledge what Yosef (or those who identify with his nationality) contributes to the world, the Jewish people and the State of Israel would be appreciated by all of humanity.

Of Butler(s) and Baker(s)

Parshat Vayeshev

by Rabbi Avi Billet

After discovering questions that never bothered me before, and using certain learning skills acquired in classes taught by the late Rabbi Mordechai Breuer, a new approach to the tale of the dreams Yosef interprets at the end of our parsha became apparent. Wonderfully, some of these ideas are also shared by Abravanel and Alshikh (and others) – both of whose interpretations of chapter 40 are essential.

                

When the Torah describes for us the circumstances surrounding Pharaoh’s sending his servants into prison, the verses become inexplicably repetitive.

1.       The king of Egypt’s butler and the baker sin to their master, the king of Egypt.

2.       Pharaoh gets angry at his two officers: the officer of the butlers, and the officer of the bakers.

3.       He placed them in the holding cell (mishmar) of the officer of butchers, to the prison (beit hasohar) where Yosef is imprisoned.

4.       The officer of butchers appointed Yosef [to be] with them, and he served them, while they spent days [yamim] in the holding cell [mishmar]

5.       The two of them dreamed a dream, each his own dream, and each his interpretation, the butler and the baker of the king of Egypt, who are imprisoned in the prison (beit hasohar).

6.       Yosef came to them in the morning and saw they were perturbed.

7.       And he asked the officers of Pharaoh, that were with him in the holding cell (mishmar) of the house of his master saying, “Why are your faces so upset today?”

The most notable changes in the text from verse to verse are a. the difference between referring to the singular baker and butler (verses 1,5) and the “officers over many” (verses 2,7), b. the sin (verse 1) vs. Pharaoh’s anger (verse 2), c. the location of imprisonment – a beit hasohar (2^nd half of 3, 5) vs. a mishmar (1^st half of 3, 4, 7), d. the nature of the prison location – beit hasohar is where Yosef was at the end of chapter 39, while the mishmar seems to be a private prison in the house of the officer of butchers – Yosef’s former master, e. those who work for the king of Egypt (verses 1,5) vs. those who have a relationship with Pharaoh (verses 2,7).

                

I am unfamiliar with Rabbi Breuer’s teachings on this chapter. But I would imagine his either saying there are two aspects (shtei bechinot) to what is going on here or two different strings of action. If two aspects – one is on the micro level in terms of what happened to two specific workers, while the macro is the significance for the future of the nation of Israel, when Yosef, who is destined to be king, approaches people who are light years ahead of him politically, but who will be serving him (if they survive) within a short time.

                

If there are two different strings of action, there is a single butler and a single baker, each from a full team of butlers and bakers, who sinned in some manner against the king. They are thrown into a prison for political prisoners, one from which there is theoretically no escape. Their overseers, officers, are also punished (after all, they bear responsibility for the flaws of their underlings), but are sent to a minimum security place called a mishmar. Because the mishmar is in Yosef’s master’s home, and because the officers were high ranking, the officer of butchers wants them to be pampered while in prison, so he takes Yosef out of the inescapable jail (beit hasohar) in order to be in the minimum security place (mishmar) from which cases are heard and people are given a chance at being reinstated to their former positions.

                

There are certainly commentators who will suggest this whole exercise is a waste of time because the butler and the baker are the same persons as the Officer of the Butlers and the Officer of the Bakers.

                

And yet a careful study of the verses does leave one wondering why there is so much repetition. Was Yosef wrong, and therefore punished by God, on account of asking the Officer of Butlers to remember him to Pharaoh? Or was his request reasonable, and the Officer of Butlers forgot (as people often do) in the heat of the moment? Was the timing perhaps not right for Yosef to get out of prison? Had he gone out then, what options would have been before him? To work for Potiphar (not great, on numerous levels), to work for someone else (also not great), to go home (??? – what makes him think Pharaoh would ever send him home?). All options would have played against his getting a direct audience with Pharaoh and being subsequently appointed as viceroy. And remember that the main reason he gets that audience is because the officer of Butlers remembers him to Pharaoh.

                

Whether there are two aspects to the tale, or two strings of action, the consideration that Yosef did everything correctly and that he was not a victim of circumstance any more than he was a tool in God’s Divine Plan needs revisiting. We don’t necessarily know why Yosef is thrown in a pit by his brothers and later into a prison-pit. But all of his adventures were meant to harden him and train him to be capable of rising to the position of viceroy when he was ready.

This is the story of our people. Sometimes we look at events in our lives, and they don’t make sense. Or on our own micro level, they are difficult to comprehend. But if we can recall that we are all pieces of a much more macro image of the story of the Jewish people, perhaps we can sense that our lives matter, and that all the pitfalls and trials we undergo are cogs in the great wheel that will ultimately make our people ready to embrace the Final Redemption.

The Son and the Grandsons

Parshat Vaychi

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The opening of our parsha contains narrative that seems inconsistent.

           
"Yaakov" lives in Egypt. But the days of "Yisrael" are getting closer to his death.

           
After asking Yosef to swear that the burial will not take place in Egypt and will take place in his family burial plot, "Yisrael" bows at the head of the bed.

           
Time passes, and Yosef is told (by…?), "Your father is sick." So he takes "his two sons with him, Ephraim and Menashe."

           
Someone (who…?) tells "Yaakov," "Your son Yosef is here." So "Yisrael" strengthens himself and sits on the bed.

Then "Yaakov" speaks to Yosef – and through what he tells Yosef it almost seems as if Menashe and Ephraim are not present. In short, Yosef is informed that his two sons will be viewed as if they are the told oldest of the 12 tribes, and that through them Yosef is receiving the double portion of the first born's rights. After saying this, "Yisrael" sees Yosef's sons and puzzlingly asks, "Who are these [people]?" before he is reminded they are his grandsons and he asks to bless them. (47:29-48:9)

There are numerous theories for the switch between Yaakov and Yisrael, what each name represents, and why each might be used in the context in which it appears. Many are interesting but most have an inconsistency or a flaw (or a stretch) that makes it not worth belaboring the point.

The problems we will zero in on surround who is telling Yosef about his father, who is telling his father about his arrival, why are we told that he took "his sons" and then it specifies "Ephraim and Menashe" (talk about stating the obvious!), and what is the role of Ephraim and Menashe until Yaakov notices their presence?

The Torah tells us Yosef took them "with him" indicating their presence should have been noted from the moment Yosef showed up, not after Yaakov has already given Yosef a blessing and instructions!

           
Many commentaries (Rashi, Ibn Ezra, Radak, Pesikta, Alshich) suggest that the one who told Yosef about his father's illness, and the one who informed his father that "Yosef is here" was the same person – The "Magid." The announcer. Rashi even suggests that his identity is unimportant because sometimes the Torah leaves out unimportant details.

           
However, Rashi also raises the possibility that the announcer is Ephraim, who spent a lot of time with Saba Yaakov (see Daat Zekenim's fascinating "proof" for the Ephraim identification). And the Midrash Sechel Tov uses a similar argument to suggest that it was Menashe who made the respective announcements to Yosef and to Yaakov.

           
In this latter approach, whether it was Ephraim or Menashe seems to be irrelevant (in the big picture), because all it means is that Yosef hears the news and takes his informer along with his other son to visit Yaakov, and the informer subsequently announces Yosef's arrival – or, as Rabbi Samson Rafael Hirsch notes the terms "Vayaged (and he told)" and "Vayomer (and he said)" – in order not to shock the older man, Yaakov was first told Yosef was coming, and then informed when Yosef actually arrived.

           
The Shach suggests that when "Yisrael" bowed at the head of the bed in 47:31, he was bowing before God's Divine Presence, which stayed nearby and informed him in 48:2 that Yosef was there. Netziv puts a slight twist on this idea as he suggests Yosef had sent a message that he was not coming alone – he was to bring his sons anticipating their receiving a blessing – suggesting that his father should prepare to receive the Divine Presence.

           
The Alshich focuses on the terminology of "Acharei Hadvarim Ha'Eileh" – after these things – noting how the use of the word "Acharei" instead of "Achar" indicates that the promise to bury Yaakov in Canaan distinguished Yosef and opened the door for his sons to be blessed. Much time passed between the end of chapter 47 and the beginning of chapter 48, and the promise did not directly merit the double portion gifted through Ephraim and Menashe, but it was all related.  

           
Alshich raises the possibility that it was the same Divine Presence that accompanied Yisrael's bow in 47:31 that informed Yosef that his father was sick – in other words, Yosef intuited it through Ruach HaKodesh (a divine spirit).

           
According to the Daat Zekenim, Yosef did not regularly visit his father, to avoid having the conversation about what actually transpired that wound him up in Egypt.

           
The suggestion made by Or HaChaim can help us satisfy our conundrum. He says that on the one hand "Yosef's sons" should merit a blessing on Yosef's merit, but on the other hand, Ephraim specifically and Menashe specifically each merit a blessing on his own right.

           
While it seems that Yaakov is not paying attention to the presence of the individuals Ephraim and Menashe when they show up with their father, he is aware that "Yosef's sons" (as a unit) are present. He continues to avoid the painful conversation of the fateful day when Yosef descended to Egypt, because they are not alone, and he speaks glowingly of "Yosef's sons" as if they are in absentia – because speaking of them as "Yosef's sons" is Yosef's blessing. They are only indirectly relevant to Yosef's blessing – which goes all the way to 48:16.

           
When Yaakov looks at them and calls them over, though he blesses them together (in 48:20), he is blessing Ephraim the individual and Menashe the individual.

           
We see differences in the relationships Yaakov/Yisrael had with his son versus with his grandsons. The roles of the players here indicate the truth of the statement of Mishlei 17:6, "Children's children are the crown of the aged, and the glory of the children is their fathers."

"Put the Money in Their Bags"

A great "Yosef" - Rabbi Joseph Grunblatt - passed away last Shabbos. His funeral took place on Sunday and the hespedim are available for viewing here. His passing is a true loss to the Jewish people. An incredible rabbi, talmid chochom, humble and magnanimous. תנצבה.

Parshat Miketz

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Book collectors often have many books on their shelves that never move from their place. But sometimes it is the thin volume you never look at that contains gems of insight and wisdom.

            

In recent years I have found this to be true of a book I purchased when I was in yeshiva. The author is Yeshayahu Moleyoff (not sure how that is spelled in English), and it is one volume on Bereshit – I don't even know if he has more – called "Meotzarot Bereshit." The book seems to be self-published.

            

He asks the following question: Why did Yosef give the money back to his brothers both times they purchased food?

            

For a very long time I thought Yosef was underhandedly doing what anyone in his position would likely do for family. "I don't need your money. Please. It's on me." Because even if Yosef didn't want to reveal himself until he had uncovered what he needed to find out about them, perhaps he did not feel the need to overburden his father financially when he (Yosef) didn't need the money, and presumably, particularly on account of the famine, his father needed every penny he had.

            

The question can be strengthened when we consider that most commentaries who address this issue focus on the "how" and not the "why." He put the money in – perhaps by displacing some food, forcing them to come back sooner. He put the money in the bottom of all bags, except for Levi's, in whose bag the money was placed on top. Levi, after all, was lost without Shimon, his partner in crime, and any feeling of fear over discovering the money would be felt by Levi first. This is by design.

            

Of course, these two approaches - to return the money graciously versus to "get them" - contradict one another, and Yeshayahu Moleyeff notes that even if Yosef had the first thought in mind (to kindly return the money he did not need) there is no way he did not anticipate the kind of reaction his brothers had: they would be fearful and feel something afoul over discovering the money they thought they had paid back in their bags.

            

He therefore suggests that Yosef was trying to deliver a subtle message to the brothers both times. First when they had lost Shimon, and when they were going to get Binyamin. And second, when Binyamin's bag was set up as the guilty one containing Yosef's cup.

            

That message was one of "Midah k'neged midah" – measure for measure.

            

They had received money over the purchase of Yosef as a slave, and they were now receiving money when Shimon was left behind as a slave and when the signs were pointing to the possibility that Binyamin might become a slave as well.

            

More poignantly, if things did not pan out well, they were all on the brink of becoming slaves themselves. They come to this recognition themselves in 43:18 and even offer themselves as slaves at the end of the parsha, when Yosef threatens to take Binyamin as a slave.

            

Midah K'neged Midah, therefore, is the running theme here. Yosef is not looking to make his brothers slaves. It is enough that he has seen them bow (in fulfillment of his dreams), that he knows the power he holds, and that they are willingly accepting his kingship over them. It is only that he wants to see how they will react when the circumstances themselves are set up all over again. When they see money being handed to them in exchange for their efforts to bring Binyamin down to Egypt. When they see money being handed to them when Binyamin is being set up to be arrested for stealing from the king.

            

In 42:21 they lamented not that they had sold Yosef – they still thought they were in the right in doing so. (This is a much longer discussion.) But they lamented how they had ignored his screams, and had dealt with him coldly.

            

In essence, Yosef set the stage as best he could to mirror what had taken place 22 years earlier. A young, innocent, son of Rachel was going to be placed in the precarious brink of becoming a slave to Egypt forever. The money has been exchanged, the boy is helpless and guilty in the eyes of those judging him, and it is up to the brothers to demonstrate compassion. To look out for their brother. To do everything within their power and then some to make sure history doesn't repeat itself.

            

This is the mark of a true baal teshuvah. When the circumstances lend themselves for the bad action to be repeated, and the former sinner chooses a different path, he is considered penitent.

            

Yosef HaTzaddik was using God's favorite form of punishment – measure for measure. And with the brothers' collective action, and Yehuda – who was most responsible for the idea of the sale – standing up to do everything in his power to defend Binyamin (in next week's parsha), we see how the brothers are ready to be reunited, and the next stage of their collective history can finally commence with the reunions that will take place when Yaakov and his greater family come down to Egypt.

p.s. We can take this thought and apply it to the Hanukkah experience as well. The Greek occupation and the influence they exerted over the people of ancient Israel could only be overcome when the Jewish people were put in touch with the conflicting ideology, coming to the conclusion that Judaism was and will always be the best thing for the Jews.

Just as Yosef remains a highlight of the Israelites' time in Egypt, the 200+ years Hasmonean dynasty is a highlight of the Jewish experience in Israel during a time of foreign occupation and the 2000 year exile that has followed since the destruction of the Temple.

           

Taking Yosef's Bones

Parshat B'Shalach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In this most dramatic of Torah portions, the opening pesukim (verses) read like storyboards of a film's opening sequence of images around the locale where it is set. The people turn from going straight along the Mediterranean coast towards the Red Sea. Moshe is arranging the transfer of Yosef's bones. They travel from Sukkos (first stop 12:37). We then see the people - during the day - being led by the Pillar of Clouds. In the dark of night, the Pillar of Fire provides the necessary light and protection.

The scene then switches to the back and forth scenes of Paroh in his court, back to the people at the Sea, to Paroh and his army approaching, to the people at the Sea.

            

The one image that seems out of place is Moshe taking (and therefore arranging for transfer of) the bones of Yosef. While the promise being fulfilled was not insignificant, it did get its press time at the end of Parshat Vaychi. Why does it need an entire verse here? Couldn't it just be in add-on to the previous verse – "They traveled around the wilderness towards the sea, they carried weapons with them, and they also brought Yosef's bones"?

To say that there is great depth to the carrying out of this task is to state the obvious. What the message might be ranges from the obvious to the creative, with the profound lying somewhere in between.

            

On the obvious level, a very old promise is being fulfilled.

            

The profound could echo the words of Rabbi Akiva when he told his colleagues at the end of Mesechet Makkot, "Now that I have seen the prophesy of Uriah be fulfilled, I know the prophesy of Zechariah will be fulfilled as well." If we see that Yosef's promise has been fulfilled, perhaps we can be assured that Zechariah's promise will be fulfilled as well, with the coming of the Ultimate Redemption.

            

Which leaves us with the creative.

            

Many Midrashim depict Moshe's seeking Yosef's bones in an admirable fashion as he did it at the same time the Israelites were draining Egyptof its wealth (see also here regarding taking the clothes). The verse in Mishlei (10:8), "The wise-hearted (man) accepts commandments" – or fulfills opportune mitzvot when they come along – is utilized to give Moshe the greatest amount of credit for pursuing the opportunity to fulfill the promise on behalf of those he represented, as they were pursuing the wealth they were to take with them out of Egypt.

            

Rabbi Moshe Shternbuch put it this way: "A person who dedicates himself to fulfill commandments, or to delve in Torah, will be rewarded ('skhar mitzvah') according to what is either lost or missed out in profits." This teaching is based in the Zohar on Parshat Terumah who emphasizes the greatness of a mitzvah that is fulfilled through one's money – either through a donation or through using one's time otherwise to do a mitzvah, that may prevent a financial gain from taking place.

            

Moshe's choice to find Yosef's bones specifically at the time when all the Israelites were engaged in material pursuits gave a strong indicator of his priorities, how mitzvah and fulfilling a promise were more important to him than gold and silver.

            

A few reminders are in order: 

Maybe we don't need to go back for a second and third helping at a Kiddush or smorgasbord. Not only to give others a chance to eat, but also to indicate that our focus is not solely on food.

            

When we go to shul, we are engaged in mitzvah. When we talk in shul or leave shul on shabbos to drink(in the middle of davening), we are like the Israelites pursuing gold and silver while those who are properly engaged in the services are like Moshe seeking Yosef's bones.

            

When we bring irreverence to an activity others respect, we are the Israelites to their Moshe.

            

When we don't respect and promote what Shabbos should and could be – a time of being in touch with the soul, the spirit and God – and instead ignore our children, engage in superficial, vacuous and sophomoric conversations, we are the Israelites pursuing what we think is gold and silver, while those who discuss the parsha, explore their commitment to halakha, and engage their children in conversation are those who are seeking Yosef's bones.

            

Moshe seeking Yosef's bones therefore becomes a metaphor for what a deep commitment to the past is, what a promise for the future can mean, and what it means to model dedication to a meaningful task.

            

The commitment to bringing Yosef's bones to their final resting place is the greatest lesson Moshe could teach the people in the hour they felt richest and greatest (see a related idea here). Commitment to our faith and our people makes for a much richer life than all the fleeting pursuits of gold and silver we can ever undertake in our lives.

Priorities: what life is all about.            

Vayigash Sermon - with a tribute to Newtown, CT victims

The "untimely" and unexpected theme of Vayigash:  death?

A friend of mine sent me an email late Thursday night, with the link to an article entitled, "Boynton Beach, FL- Orthodox Man Killed While Riding Bike," asking if it was someone from the shul. The accident took place on Jog about 2 miles from here, and the deceased was identified in the article as Zev Gross from Delray Beach. [With condolences to his family - mentioning him was not to trivialize his tragic death, but to indicate how 'difficult' this week was.]

            From last Friday until now, the news has been ablaze with stories about, and the aftermath of, the Newtown, CT tragedy in which 26 people were killed by an insane individual. I will not talk today about gun rights, or about mental illness – which seem to be the two largest focuses of discussion in the aftermath of the tragedy – nor will I address the downsides of a culture subsumed with violence in video games and film. That last point is not a discussion for our mature audience – we can distinguish between video games and films, and reality.

            But I am going to address thoughts we may have from time to time, about mortality, and what it all means. Not that I have all the answers because I don't. I don't know if I have any of the answers.

            To round out my week, the "Ethics" class in my Melton class was on the topic of "Suicide." I started the class asking if anyone in the room knew someone who had done the deed. And while I am one of the younger people in the room, I was also one of the few who raised a hand. I knew a few people who have done this – one in particular which was quite devastating for me. So, in preparing for the class, I took a very unwanted stroll down memory lane.

Ironically, I saw another news item that Bernie Madoff's brother was sentenced to 10 years in prison. Which reminded me of Madoff – which took place 4 years ago, and whose deeds caused a number of suicides, including his son's who committed suicide two years ago, and who's Yarzeit, also ironically, was this past Monday.

            What a week.

            Concern over death plays a surprisingly significant role in the parsha we read this morning. When Yehuda presents his passionate plea to Tzafenat Paneach, hoping he can melt the ice cold heart of the ruler he stands before, he mentions that "We told you that if our younger brother leaves our father, our father will die. And when we told our father about what you said, he told us, 'You know my [deceased] wife gave birth to two sons. One went out, and he's been torn up. You're going to take this one, and an accident will befall him. My old age will drown in sorrow on my journey to Sheol.' We can't return to our father without our youngest brother, because their souls are linked together. If we return home without youngest brother, HE WILL DIE. I swore by my life that I would take care – that if I don't bring him back, I will have sinned to my father all the days of my life.       

            The Or HaChaim notes in last week's parsha, that Yaakov was convinced to let Yehuda take charge, because Yehuda was not only willing to sacrifice his life in this world, but his world to come experience as well.

            Yosef can no longer play his charade, he reveals himself, and takes the necessary steps from his angle to assure his father continues to survive.

But the brothers were concerned with how to break the Good news to Yaakov – they didn't want to kill him with the amazing news of Yosef's rise to power. This is why the midrash informs us Serach broke the news. Because she was nicer, sweeter, and not involved in any way - she would not have to answer any accusing glances that might say, "How did he get there in the first place?"

Nonetheless, the Torah tells us – following Rav S.R. Hirsch's interpretation of ויפג לבו, that Yaakov fainted and needed to be resuscitated – an interpretation of וַתְּחִי רוּחַ יַעֲקֹב אֲבִיהֶם. And then Yaakov expresses, "Now that I know Yosef is alive, אֵלְכָה וְאֶרְאֶנּוּ בְּטֶרֶם אָמוּת. The clock, we are reminded, is ALWAYS ticking.

            Yaakov goes to Beer Shava , where God appears to him and tells him not to be afraid to go down to Egypt, "For I will go down with you and I will come up with you" – which Rashi says is a promise that Yaakov will be buried in Canaan (after dying in Egypt) – "While Yosef will place his hand on your eyes" – which the Medrash and a number of commentaries say refers to closing Yaakov's eyes when he dies.

            At the end of the parsha, when Yosef is negotiating with the Egyptians over how he will continue to feed them, they keep asking for him to help them so they can avoid dying. "We have no money, but  וְלָמָּה נָמוּת נֶגְדֶּךָ because of that." Later Yosef acquires all their animals, and they say to him,  לָמָּה נָמוּת לְעֵינֶיךָ גַּם אֲנַחְנוּ גַּם אַדְמָתֵנוּ. If Yosef buys their land in exchange for food, and acquires them as slaves, they say וְנִחְיֶה וְלֹא נָמוּת וְהָאֲדָמָה לֹא תֵשָׁם:. After he explains how their serfdom will work, they say, "You have kept us alive. We will find favor in your eyes in our servitude."

            The concern over mortality is clearly widespread.

            Which brings us to our most odd episode in the parsha.

            Yosef brings his father to Paroh, and we are told Yaakov blesses Paroh. Paroh asks an odd questions: How old are you?

            Yaakov answers, "I am living 130 years, few and bad were the days of the years of my life, and they have not reached the days of the years of that my fathers lived." Before leaving, he blesses Paroh again.

One of the Midrashic explanations for this exchange suggests that Yaakov was bargaining with Pharaoh. After blessing Paroh that the Nile should rise and end the famine, Yaakov believed Pharaoh would never let him return to be buried in the Land of Canaan, so he made a deal. ‘Say you will let me go after the famine is over, or I will make my purchases here and return home now.  I have already accomplished my goal of seeing Yosef.’

In this vein, Pharaoh was asking, “How old are you? How do I know we will be blessed on your account during the remaining years of the famine? Maybe you’ll die before the famine ends because you’re so old. Why should I make guarantees?"

This midrash reminds me of a joke. It's a morose topic. A joke won't hurt us:

A shammes is approved for a five year advance on his salary in order to finance his daughter's wedding. He feels compelled to give a speech, and says, "Thank you so much for your kindness today. When five years are over, I will look forward to having paid back my debt to you for your generosity. But if I should die within the next five years, well that will just be my good luck."

To summarize, we have Yaakov at 130 concerned about death, we have his sons, who are between the ages of 39 and 45 concerned about his death, we have Yaakov concerned about Binyamin's death (Binyamin is around 30 years old), and we have Egyptians of all ages concerned about their survival.

Everyone seems to want to live. But the obsession, and all the hype over the possibility of dying makes one wonder if they really enjoyed the lives they lived as they lived it. Even Yaakov's comment to Paroh is disturbing. It's almost as if he wants out, that seeing Yosef is enough, and he doesn't care to be around any longer.

If this is living, who needs it? You'll probably say, "It beats the alternative." And if you have your wits about you to say that, it's probably true.

But the truth is, we don't know what's on the other side, what lies beyond the great white yonder. Paroh legitimately wondered what guarantees Yaakov could make in his death. None!

Every religion tries to answer the question of what comes next. For us, we talk about Shamayim, Gan Eden, being with Hakadosh Baruch Hu and the Malachim. For those who suffered in life, we sometimes say they're in a better place, they should rest in peace. In some cases we talk about death being a kapparah, or even a blessing.

My grandmother, alehah hashalom, and yibadel l'chaim my great aunt would talk about who is watching them from shamayim. My greatgrandmother was always good for helping you find a good parking space, and when the stars align for you. My siblings and cousins say my Babi is the force behind all the marriages and new great grandchildren that have come about in our family since her death.

We say that the deceased is a melitz yosher. And it makes us feel good. Because we need that. We need to put death into terms we understand, because if we don't our lives cease to have meaning. You mean, we just live, do our best, then die, and THAT'S IT? That can't be IT! There MUST be something else. RIGHT? Right, Rabbi? Right?

Yes. There must be. Especially as we believe

יב) אֲנִי מַאֲמִין בֶּאֱמוּנָה שְׁלֵמָה. בְּבִיאַת הַמָּשִׁיחַ. וְאַף עַל פִּי שֶׁיִּתְמַהְמֵהַּ. עִם כָּל זֶה אֲחַכֶּה לּוֹ בְּכָל יוֹם שֶׁיָּבוֹא:

As well as the next one, which is not as famous, because it hasn't been made into a song...

(יג) אֲנִי מַאֲמִין בֶּאֱמוּנָה שְׁלֵמָה. שֶׁתִּהְיֶה תְּחִיַּת הַמֵּתִים בְּעֵת שֶׁיַעֲלֶה רָצוֹן מֵאֵת הַבּוֹרֵא יִתְבָּרַךְ שְׁמוֹ וְיִתְעַלֶּה זִכְרוֹ לָעַד וּלְנֵצַח נְצָחִים:

But what do we do with a tragedy like Newtown?

A few years ago, a friend of mine lost a sister. 18 years old, beautiful מבית ומחוץ, it was a real tragedy. I went the first evening of the shiva because I was going out of town the next day for Pesach. A few people were sitting around as my friend was having a very hard time, and one person - who I can best describe as someone who does not know what to say at a shiva - said to him, "She's in a better place."

It was very hard to contain myself. But as the person was on the way out, I waited until he left and then said to my friend, "That guy does not know what he is talking about. Your sister is not 'in a better place.' This was the best place for her, with your family, with her whole life ahead of her. We DON'T understand, or assume to understand. We are crying and mourning with you."

And Newtown is the same thing. We MOURN. We are sad. We REMEMBER how those who died LIVED, and we do our best to fill in the gaps created by their untimely and tragic deaths brought about by a murderous psychopath. We honor them, we respect their families [how I wish the media would leave them alone!], and we commit not to forget the kind of evil that can lurk in the hearts of men, whether of their own accord or on account of mental illness, so that hopefully hopefully others need not be victims of similarly senseless tragedies.

It's never easy when a younger person dies. But a natural death is somewhat easier to come to grips with. "It was God's plan." "We did what we could…"

But when death comes at the hands of man, we have a lot more questions and "What Ifs" than we know what to do with. And there are no answers.

Why was Yaakov so concerned with death? Yaakov had lived for 22 years as the parent who lost a child. As anyone who has lost a child knows, time may help you move on, but you never "get over it." You always think "what if I had gone about that day differently?"

He never had real closure with Yosef. He didn't want to die without knowing what had happened. And so, when he saw Yosef, he had his closure. He was done. He didn't need the remaining 17 years of his life. Of course, in his case, thankfully, things worked out pretty nicely.

Why was Yehuda so concerned for his father? First of all, Yehuda knows what it means to lose a child - he buried two sons. That is an experience he does not want anyone to go through - especially his father. Show me a person who has a healthy relationship with a parent who wants to see his or her parent die.

Why were the Egyptians so concerned about their mortality – even after they sold themselves as slaves to Paroh? Because in Egypt, the only people who had it good in death were the Pharaohs. Death was otherwise an unknown. Life is known, death is not. We want the familiar. Chazal describe Egypt as a bastion of moral depravity. Which means you live the good life no matter what position you're in, and death is nothing to look forward to.

And Pharaoh was concerned about Yaakov's age, because he knew the signs of old age, and knew Yaakov did not have a whole lot of time left.

Newtown is such a tragedy because it combines a method of death plus ages that we cannot come to grips with. With adults who gave their lives to protect children. And very young children who have lost their innocence far too early, who will be scarred for life far to early on account of the events they witnessed and the friends they will never see again.

It's almost easy for the deceased. They're done.  But we, the living, need to move on. And this is very very difficult.

We dare not forget. But we also dare not crawl into a hole. Because our lives do have meaning, and they do have a purpose. For us, our meaning and purpose is rooted in our commitment to God and coming close to Him through our dedication to Medrash (learning) and Mayseh (deeds).

The Mishnah in Avos says לא המדרש עיקר אלא המעשה. Our deeds are most important. Though our learning is important as well. 

We do our part to enhance the memory of those lost, and to raise our own commitment to living a purposeful and meaningful life - in their place, and when possible, in their name.

Through this we honor the deceased and show our tremendous regard for our short time on earth. For most of the Newtown victims, their short time was way too short, tragically cut short.

Abraham Lincoln said in his Gettysburg address, "from these honored dead we take increased devotion… that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain…"

Yehuda was willing to give up his life in this world and the next world for the sake of one who, though thirty years old, is described by the Torah in childlike terms. And I would venture to bet that most of us would do the same so that a child could live a long and meaningful life.

Let us take upon ourselves a new deed, a new devotion, a new mitzvah, a new chesed, on a regular basis. Give a little more tzedakah on a weekly basis. Read to a child, or read to the blind. Donate your time as a volunteer for a worthy organization. Carry fruit in your car to give to the homeless on the street corner. Daven once a day, or more than once a day. Read a chapter of tehillim every day. Take a book on any Jewish topic, and commit to read a page a day. One page.

Do it in memory of a victim of Newtown. Carry on what they can't any more. Make your world a little more meaningful. And let us remember them - in good health, until a hundred and twenty, and with overabundant nachas - until the day we join their innocent neshamas in the olam ha'emes.

Yosef's Strategy: Family, Not Dreams

Parshat Miketz

by Rabbi Avi Billet

There are many ways to analyze Yosef's strategy with his brothers – what was his intent, his plan, and his goal in having them go through all the "tzurres" he gave them over their younger brother and their father. The superlatives run from "cruel" to "brilliant" and from "vindictive" to "well thought out."

            

Ramban justifies all the suffering Yosef causes his father saying Binyamin needed to come without Yaakov for the first dream to be fulfilled.

But I don't understand the need for it at all. Yosef had two dreams – the first that "We were working in a field" when their bundles bowed to Yosef's bundle. He did not specify how many bundles bowed. The second dream was that the sun, moon and eleven stars bowed to Yosef.

            

As soon as his ten brothers come in, they bow. Yosef sees them and recognizes them. (42:6-7) It seems to me that the first dream has been fulfilled! There was never any indication that Binyamin's bowing is a necessity for the fulfillment of the dream! Furthermore, if the dream was like a prophesy, why would Yosef need to do anything to align things to happen the way he saw in his dream? God will take care of it!

            

If he wants to find out if his father and brother are alive – fine! Then he should ask that, reveal himself, and tell them to bring the family down because there will be a few more years of famine. But he doesn't even do that! He accuses them of being spies! Their response is that they are the sons of one man – therefore, not spies.

            

He repeats an accusation that "You've come to find where the land is exposed!" Rabbi Chaim Paltiel explains Yosef's comment, adding "If you were brothers you might have left someone home! Since you all came, it indicates you plan to attack us!" And their response is that "We are 12 brothers, the youngest is with our father today, and the other one is missing." And Yosef confirms, "This is what I was saying – You are spies!"

            

He never asked about Binyamin – they offered the information to prove their innocence.

            

If dream number one is fulfilled, all that’s needed is for the family to know that Yosef is alive and well, and that he is ruling in Egypt, and that he will take care of them as long as there is a famine – as long as they come down to Egypt. This takes place in 45:26-28.

When they all come down, "the sun, moon and eleven stars" will bow, and Yosef's second dream will be fulfilled. Three chapters in the Torah don't need to happen.

There is a possibility that Yosef wanted to see how his brothers care for Binyamin. But does it really matter? By the time it's all over, Yosef says to his brothers "You did not send me here. God did…" (45:8) This indicates that Yosef is at peace with what happened, because it was meant to happen – it was the only way his dreams could be fulfilled – and he bears no ill will to his brothers. And if they have any problems with Binyamin, who has survived until now (to allow fulfillment of his second dream), they'll have no way to harm him because Yosef will protect him.

I think that all of Yosef's actions have nothing to do with the dreams. Sure, he remembers them, but they are from a bygone era, when he had a different life, when he was a young punk, with no experience, who had dreams of grandeur because of how he was favored by his father.

But those days are long gone. Ramban points out that Yosef never wrote a letter to his father, though he surely could have. Rav Yoel Bin Nun and Rav Yaakov Medan have debated in the pages of Megadim (periodicals of Herzog College in Israel) why Yosef chose the "non-communication" route. The question boils down to what was going through his head.

Once Yosef was in a position to communicate with his family on account of their unknowingly coming to him, all Yosef wanted was Binyamin: innocent Binyamin, his only full brother, the only one he felt he could trust. That was his end goal. When he says in the last verse of the parsha that Binyamin would stay while the rest could "go in peace to your father," he meant every word. How could he know what was coming next – Yehuda's appeal (the longest in the Torah) that made the entire ordeal about Yaakov's health?

When the brothers told Yosef, "We are twelve: one is home and one is missing" they used the word "Ei-neh-nu" (איננו) to describe Yosef's status. The word could mean missing, gone, or dead (see 5:24). Yosef understood it to mean "missing," which indicates no one cared about him in all the years he was gone. But the term, as used (see 37:30, 42:13,32,36, and then in 44:30-34) indicates a deep caring for one who is missing. What changes for Yosef is 44:28, when he hears for the first time that his father thinks he is dead - that Yosef misunderstood the word's meaning when it referred to how his father viewed him.

Was he vindictive? Was he justified? Everyone in the story learns a very profound lesson. The only way to treat family members is through living life with no regrets (42:21-22). Only when the family unit is 100% supportive of one another, and no individual or group ever makes rash decisions or gangs up on another does a family have a chance to survive, thrive, and move mountains.

May we be blessed to have extensive, unified families who do everything to build one another up, with respect and most importantly, with the right emotional support. 

At First Sight

Parshat Miketz

by Rabbi Avi Billet


There are a number of mitzvoth which appear in the Torah multiple times: Shabbat, holidays, kosher animals, Shmittah (Sabbatical year), Eved Ivri (Hebrew servant), not to "cook a kid in its mother's milk." Even bris milah, tzitzis and tefillin each appear at least twice. Sometimes there are differences in the repetition, and the repetition usually serves a purpose.

When it comes to narrative, however, the Torah rarely repeats a story. Last week we read the story of Yosef and Potiphar's wife, and when she told her husband the tale, we are told "She said, 'This is what he did to me,'" (39:19) and as the text does not elaborate, we can assume she embellished the details. We need not know what she said, as all we need to know is that Yosef ended up in prision.

After Moshe is given the signs of the snake, the whitened hand, and to pour water from the river to turn it to blood before the people, he does so – the Torah does not repeat the details (Shmot 4:30)

But the two most blatant examples of repeated narrative are the story of Eliezer finding Rivkah (Chapter 24) and Pharaoh's dream here in Chapter 41.

In Eliezer's retelling of his own story, he changes some details to make the story and the setup more palatable to Rivkah's family. He achieves his goal: he convinces them of the divine hand in his trip, they agree to let Rivkah go with him, and Rivkah the wife for Yitzchak whom Eliezer was appointed to find.

But in our narrative, Pharaoh's dream is told to us, and then he repeats it to Yosef for interpretation with a few changes as well.

In his dream Pharaoh was standing "on the river," the first cows were "y'fot mareh," the second cows are "raot mareh v'dakot basar" and they stand next to the first cows. The cows who were "raot mareh v'dakot basar" ate the cows that were "y'fot hamareh."

In his retell Pharaoh stands "on the edge of the river," the first cows are "y'fot toar," the second cows are "dalot, v'raot toar m'od, v'rakot basar," and Pharaoh adds "I have never seen such bad looking cows in Egypt". The cows who were "rakot and raot" ate the first cows. The cows were completely swallowed, but it was not detectable because they looked as they had before [this last sentence is entirely new and was unapparent from the dream itself.]

In the second dream, the stalks are "briyot v'tovot" (healthy and good). The second stalks are described as thin and scorched by the east wind. They consumed the "healthy and full" stalks.

In the retell they are "m'layot v'tovot" (full and good). The second stalks are described as thin and scorched by the east wind, but are also "tz'numot" (shriveled). They consumed the "good" stalks.

Why the differences? Unlike Eliezer, Pharaoh isn't trying to convince Yosef of anything.

Or is he?

The Midrash Sechel Tov suggests Pharaoh dreamt the interpretation to the dream along with the dream, but forgot it. How else could he know that Yosef's interpretation was the correct one? Surely others tried interpreting it for him. Once he heard Yosef's interpretations, however, it triggered the memory, and he knew it was correct.

This line of thinking makes a lot of sense when we consider that Yosef's interpretation should have ended with verse 41:32 when he said "The reason that Pharaoh had the same dream twice is because the process has already been set in motion by God, and God is rushing to do it." But Yosef continued and said, "Now Pharaoh must seek out a man with insight and wisdom, and place him in charge of Egypt."

How did he get away with this bold statement?

Because when Pharaoh first laid eyes on Yosef, a memory was triggered that told him "This is the man who will interpret, this is the man I must keep close to me."

In other words, Pharaoh wanted Yosef to interpret correctly and to suggest a man be appointed, and Pharaoh presented the dreams with his own commentary in order to help Yosef produce the interpretation Pharaoh could not pull out of his subconscious mind.

First impressions are very powerful. Sometimes you meet someone for the first time and feel kinship, or feel this person is a person you'd like to get to know better. And sometimes there's a feeling you can't put your finger on that tells you this person will be a lifelong friend. There are many married couples who will tell you "they knew" when they first met, even if they did not hear bells and whistles or experience what Hollywood calls "love at first sight" (a concept I don't believe in).

Because Pharaoh wanted this encounter to work out (as he immediately set in motion in 41:38-35), he took the steps he needed to in order to give Yosef the chance to "earn" being close to him, the reward he carried for the rest of their days.

Looking Out For Father

Parshat Vayigash
by Rabbi Avi Billet

When Tzafnat Pane'ach reveals his true identity to his brothers, he says "I am Yosef. Is my father still alive?" (45:3)

Speechless, the brothers say nothing, forcing Yosef to say, "I am Yosef your brother whom you sold to Egypt." He recognizes that all was part of God's master plan, and makes clear he will not take revenge against them in any way.

Why is Yosef's first question "Is my father still alive?" From all the talk that has transpired between Yosef and the brothers, it seems to be beyond question that Yaakov is still alive.

While some (Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch and others) suggest Yosef revealed himself at this moment to determine if the brothers were lying – had they been using their father as a tool for a sympathy vote? –

The Kallah and the Shver

This can also be read in the Jewish Star (check out their new layout!)

Parshat Miketz

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Shortly after Yosef is given his new title, he is introduced to his new wife – Asenath bat Poti Phera, the priest of On. Paroh, King of Egypt was the shadchan.

As Yosef was not really given a chance to polish up his own shidduch resume (though "Viceroy" is pretty good "yichus"), or to check out his bride's before they wed, we may wonder what brought these two people together, other than their illustrious matchmaker? And who is this two-named individual (Poti Phera – see Sofrim 5:12, Yerushalmi Megillah Chapter 1, 1:9) who now becomes the father-in-law of the new viceroy of Egypt?

The classic interpretation is that Poti Phera is Potiphar, Yosef's former master. Midrash Rabba (86:3) says the word "Phera" means he pulled himself towards pagan idolatry. The gemara (Sotah 13b) says Potiphar's name was changed because he had become emasculated ("Phera" means his masculinity had been "removed," a divine punishment he received for having eyes for Yosef). Most commentaries follow the latter interpretation, quoting Rashi who takes the lead in this direction.