Miketz: Dreams of Royalty

by Rav Netanel Yosifun, Rosh Yeshivat Orot Netanya, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Nighttime. The leader of the community sits back in his chair, and takes a deep breath. These are his hours. Finally, silence around him, allowing him to think. It is now that he takes stock of the various issues, and tries to come up with solutions to the community's problems.

 

He looks back in time. It seems that peace has finally come to the small community. Many years of hardships and struggles against vexing external enemies that threatened to swallow the community altogether, have come to an end.

 

Finally, he is able to deal with the simple, routine problems. How long he waited for this time! He is happy, too, that he now has some help – in the form of an elderly wise man whose advice is worth more than gold. He has someone on whom to lean.

 

The truth is that of late, a new problem has arisen from within. One of the community members has begun to spread novel and unfamiliar ideas, which are very challenging to the other members' regular ways. Not surprisingly, disputes and arguments have begun to arise between friends and neighbors.  

 

For a moment, he asks himself: Perhaps there is no way out? Maybe people have to have something to fight about, such that if there are no outside enemies, internal disputes come to take their place? And which, actually, is preferable?

 

The thoughts give him no rest, and he consults with his mentor. He is taken aback with the concise, sharp, and memorable answer he receives: "It is true: serenity from without brings disputes from within – but these enable the birthing of new and profound insights that will leave a long-lasting impression."

This little tale is actually a double allegory, regarding both the story of Joseph and his brothers of these weeks' Torah portions, and also the importance of the miracles of Chanukah.

We read last week that Yaakov dwelled in the residence of his father when the enmity of his older sons toward Joseph broke out. Rashi tells us that Yaakov "sought to dwell in serenity, but the agitation of [the story of] Joseph jumped out at him."

Yaakov was over 100 years old at this time, and thought he would be able to finally "retire" gracefully after having suffered through the tribulations of Esav, Lavan, and Shechem. But then, with these external troubles having been solved, all of a sudden his own sons begin to bicker among themselves. Just as we see in Israeli society today, when our external enemies rise above us, they bury our internal disputes – but, seemingly, only until our enemies are defeated.

But in truth, this is only a partial picture. The other half is that it is precisely during these times of peace and serenity, just before the onset of the internal bickering, that Joseph has his dreams of royalty. They take physical shape as part of the Egyptian bondage, but when they are actually dreamt, with Yaakov and his family living in peace and freedom, these are dreams of royalty.

Peace allows for freedom of thought. Freedom inherently gives rise to conflicting insights, which in turn give rise to disputes - but arguments actually indicate spiritual unrest, which can produce great tidings.

This matter also illuminates the importance of the Chanukah miracles for all generations. Maimonides writes (Laws of Chanukah 3,1) that a central part of the thanks that we give on this holiday is for the establishment of the Hasmonean kingdom of Israel: "The G-d of their fathers had mercy on Israel, and granted them salvation from their enemies… and they were able to install a king from the Priestly family - and the kingdom of Israel was restored for over 200 years…"

This of course raises a great question: Israel was the beneficiary of many miraculous events throughout the generations, and of course not each one "merited" to be remembered as a holiday for all time. One would think that only miracles that had true significance for very many generations would be commemorated forever. Yet we know that the Hasmonean kingdom has long been extinct. Why, then, do we still remember it in our thanksgiving prayers close to 2,200 years later?

One of the answers given is that the history of the Hasmonean regime is reminiscent from several angles of what we wrote above. The kingdom was destroyed because of an internal dispute as to which of the descendants of the original Maccabees should be king, Yochanan Hyrcanus or Yehuda Aristobulus. They invited the Romans to arbitrate, who promptly arrived and took over the kingdom for themselves.

However, there is another side to the picture. The Hasmonean kingdom enabled the Nation of Israel to actualize its full potential and strength, during the second half of the Second Temple period.

During the First Temple, we merited to have prophecy and nearly the entire Bible. But it was during the Second Temple that we attained new depths in the study of the Oral Law, the Mishna, and the profound teachings of our Sages, which led to centuries of intense and weighty Torah study throughout our terrible Exile.

It is the Oral Law that enabled our holy Torah to remain relevant throughout the generations, and that provided answers to the manifold challenges that arose wherever and whenever Jews found themselves. And this is the miracle of Chanukah that thus sustained the nation throughout the generations.

The Sages tell us that he who wishes to attain wisdom should go southward, and that the Menorah was in fact placed in the south side of the Sanctuary. The miracle of Menorah alludes to the light of the wisdom of the Oral Law, which we received during Chanukah – and it continually rises and increases [just as we increase the number of Chanukah candles each night, in accordance with Beit Hillel's ruling], leading Israel to its complete Redemption, speedily in our days!