Vayeshev: Yosef, His Dreams, and the Importance of Listening

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

It is told about the Tzaddik of Jerusalem, Rabbe Aryeh Levine (1885-1969), that people would come to him, crying about their problems and tribulations – and would exit his house not only in a good mood, but with a sense that their problems had been solved.

A famous psychiatrist was so impressed with these stories of Reb Aryeh that he once asked him, "What is it that you do with these people? How do they end up leaving you in such a better mood?"

Reb Aryeh answered simply: "I just listen to them."

The psychiatrist nodded: "Yes, listening is a great thing."

Another story was told by the writer Yaakov David Abramsky about himself. He said that after his son fell in the War of Independence in 1948, he found himself one night walking aimlessly around the streets of Jerusalem, and at one point just sat down somewhere and started crying bitterly. No one heard him, no one came to comfort him – until suddenly, from across broad Jaffa St. came Reb Aryeh Levine, who warmly placed the writer's hands in his and stroked them to comfort him. Reb Aryeh was the only one in the world who noticed him and his sadness. "Yes, I was still alone," concluded Abramsky, "but I was no longer all by myself." [These stories are recounted in the work by Simcha Raz about Rabbi Levine.]

In truth, there is a great secret here; would it be that we could walk even a bit in the path of R. Aryeh. People simply have a need for someone to listen to them, and primarily – someone who will give them "space."

I've noticed that little toddlers, when beginning to speak, point to something and call it by its name (in baby-talk) – and then wait for the adult to repeat what they said. Even at this young age, they need approval, affirmation, and even respect.

And of course, this does not change much as they grow older. Every person, no matter how old or even strong, needs attention and to be given their space by others.

This can explain an important point in this week's Torah portion of Vayeshev (B'reshit 37-40). We read that Yosef HaTzaddik has two dreams that are not received very happily by his brothers – but there is a big difference as to how he relates them.

He tells the first dream to his brothers (37,5-6), and they rebuke him for seemingly wanting to rule over them. But regarding the second dream, we see that he first tells it to his brothers (verse 9) – but then, surprisingly, he tells it once again (verse 10) to both his father and his brothers!

The questions are clear: Why does he tell the second dream to his father, after he told the first one only to his brothers? And why did he apparently plan at first to tell the second dream only to his brothers, and then decide to tell it to his father as well?

The Response is the Key

It would seem that the explanation lies in how, and if, his brothers react to what Yosef told them. After the first dream, they reacted with rebuke – but at least they heard him and responded to him! It is important to be heard, even if negatively! (And of course, we remember that Yosef HaTzaddik was on an exalted level, as is seen later in his behavior in Egypt, and his needs are not only psychological but also spiritual.)

However, when he recounted to them his second dream, they did not respond at all! He therefore tells it again to his father, so that it will have its place in the world. Again, he is met with a rebuke (verse 10) – but at least he, and the dream, are heard. When the brothers ignored him, this was harder than their anger and resentment.

** This also adds further depth to Yaakov's reaction: "His father guarded the matter" (verse 11) – it was his reaction that preserved it and gave it space.

What Saved Yosef From Sin?

In general, Yaakov gave space to all his sons – and we see that for Yosef, this was exactly what saved him later from a great sin. The Talmud (Sotah 36b) tells us that when Potiphar's wife tried to seduce Yosef, this was a great temptation for him, and according to some opinions, he nearly caved in. For he was only a slave servant, sold by his own brothers – and here she was, the only one who gave him attention, respect and space. But then, as the Talmud relates, this happened: "He suddenly remembered his father, whose likeness appeared to him in a vision and said to him, 'Yosef, the names of you and your brothers will one day be written on the stones of the Ephod [in the Tabernacle] – do you want your name to be erased and instead be remembered as one who frequents harlots?'… He immediately desisted."

That is, at the moment of truth he remembered his father, our Patriarch Yaakov, who knew how to give him his own place among all the other brothers. His name among theirs had its own precious stone, and it was this that enabled him to overcome and be saved from sin. For this incident emphasizes that Yaakov told Yosef, "Let not your name be erased from among your brothers' names! Stay with them and be part of them" – and that is what did the trick." (And again, we emphasize that the specific lesson for Yosef must be upgraded, in that what was important for him was not only superficial respect from others, but the framework of spiritual continuity.)

May we also merit to feel the needs of the people around us, give them space and respect, and thus uplift them!

Vayeshev: The Dangers of Blind Love

by Rav Moshe Leib HaCohen Halbershtadt, Founder and Director of YORU Jewish Leadership, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The story related in this week's Torah portion of Vayeshev (B'reshit 37-40) regarding Yosef's dreams that so angered his brothers is well-known. Already at age 17, he was attached to his half-brothers from Bilhah and Zilpah, but was somewhat estranged from his half-brothers from Leah, who scorned him. Their father Yaakov didn't see what was going on; he saw only his special love for Yosef, his older son from his late beloved wife Rachel. He gave a special striped coat to Yosef, seemingly not realizing that this display of favoritism would bring about sharp feelings of brotherly hatred towards Yosef. "They hated him and could not speak to him in peace" (B'reshit 37,4).

Yosef dreamt a dream, and before he could even tell them what it was, "they hated him all the more." Yaakov did not notice.

Yosef then told them the dream, in which he saw himself and his brothers binding sheaves – and suddenly his own sheaf stood up tall, and the brothers' sheaves bowed down to it! This display of dominion over them, and the fact that he related it to them in such detail, led them to hate him all the more. And Yaakov? He saw nothing.

Yosef then told him his next dream, in which the sun, moon and eleven stars actually bowed down to him. Yosef went even further this time, repeating it to his father as his brothers stood aside and listened (as Rashi explains). Yaakov sees their angry faces, and realizes that he must calm them down. He scolds Yosef in front of them – but still does not realize the extent of his sons' hatred towards him. "His brothers were very jealous of him; his father suspended judgement" (verse 11). He waited to see what would happen, focused only on his great love for Yosef without seeing the impending danger. 

Not only is he unaware of the incendiary relations between them, Yaakov even sends Yosef to check how his brothers are doing in the grazing fields of Sh'chem. He dispatches his beloved son into the jaws of the tiger, not only to his brothers, but to the very place of danger for Yaakov's family, where his daughter was raped and tortured.

The brothers then sold Yosef to passing merchants, and tried to fool Yaakov into believing that he had been mauled to death by a wild animal. They showed him the blood-stained striped coat, and he immediately concluded that Yosef was dead. Even though "all his sons and daughters arose to comfort him, he refused to be consoled, saying, 'I will go down to the grave mourning for my son'" (verse 35). He loved his son Yosef more than he loved all his sons and daughters.

The Talmud draws an important lesson from this tragic story: "One must never favorably single out one of his children from the others – for because of two measures of fine wool that Yaakov gave Yosef and not to the other brothers, they became jealous of him, ultimately leading to the descent of our forefathers to Egypt" (Shabbat 10b). This does not mean that the Sages judged Yaakov Avinu, the choicest of our Patriarchs: "If the earlier ones are the sons of angels, then we are sons of humans, and if they were sons of humans, then we are like donkeys…" (Shabbat 112b). All the more so do we not have the foggiest notion of the greatness of our holy Patriarchs. However – our Torah is a "Torah of Life," and did not come just to tell us stories of what happened, but wants us to learn how to act. The Sages want us to learn from the straightforward meaning of the verses what happened and how we should not act: We must never show such favoritism to one son at the expense of the others, for this causes jealousy that could ultimately lead to a catastrophe.

And in truth, it is very strange: How can we understand that Yaakov behaved so blindly, without realizing a simple notion such as not singling out one son from the others? How could he not then see all the warning signs along the way?

The answer is that his extraordinary love for his son blinded him to the facts: "For bribery will blind the eyes of wise men and will distort the words of the righteous" (D'varim 16,19).

There were several reasons for Yaakov to love Yosef: Yosef was born to Rachel, and it was when Yaakov was already old, and Yaakov taught him everything he learned in the Yeshiva of Shem and Ever, and Yosef looked like him. His love was so intense that he simply could not see what was going on around him. This is the danger of any blinding love; when one is blinded, he is as if bribed into believing falsehoods, even in the face of clear signs of dangers ahead.

Given that this is true, we are in big trouble! For how can one ever know if he is blinded or not? How he can make a good decision without knowing whether he might not be truly aware of the consequences? How can we know if we are seeing clearly, or are actually unaware?

The mussar-master Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler, author of Michtav Me'Eliyahu, explains that this is a key point of the study and implementation of ethical behavior. We must always be striving hard to ascertain whether we can trust our intellect and logic to arrive at true conclusions. We must know that our brains can come to correct ethical conclusions only to the extent that our hearts are free and clean of personal motivations and conflicts of interest. Only if our hearts are then full with strong and burning aspirations for integrity and truth can we be sure of ourselves.

Rabbi Dessler continues: "Can it be then that one who has not yet completely purified his heart, has no chance of making correct ethical decisions?" The answer is yes, he can never be completely sure! However, there is a test that one can conduct in order to ascertain whether his decision is good and true: If he sees that the decision he made came to him easily, without a struggle, he must be suspicious. He must then search his heart to see where his decision jives with his personal interests. Only a decision that was made with difficulty, and after great efforts to reach the truth, and amidst a war against his personal instincts – only such decisions leave room for hope that he might be on the right path. 

We thus learn that we must always be on the alert, in any relationship and in every circumstance, to make sure we are striving for truth without being blinded by our own interests, or by the interests of those we love. Only in this way will we have a chance to protect ourselves from the great dangers of "blinding love."

Vayeshev: Eradicating Hatred in Our Generation

Abridged from an article by the late Rabbi Moshe Tzuriel, prolific Torah scholar and rabbinic teacher in Yeshivat Hesder Rishon LeTzion, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

When we study the weekly Torah portion – this week it is Vayeshev, chapters 37-40 in B'reshit – we must remember that the reason the Sages instituted the public reading of the Torah is not simply so that we should mechanically hear the words. Even to simply understand them, while important, is not enough; rather, the objective is to learn from them what it is we must change in our lives.  

For instance, it is not enough to be saddened each year at the sale of Joseph by his brothers and to register their sin and punishment. We must rather think deeply as to whether we might also be repeating this same disgraceful sin in our own generation, in our own homeland.  

The renowned 15th-century Torah scholar and Spanish statesman, Don Yitzchak Abarbanel, explained what it was that caused our ancestors to suffer in Egypt for so long. In his commentary to the Passover Haggadah, he wrote that it all happened because of the sale of Joseph by his brothers; he was sold to Egypt, there he ascended to power, and to there his brothers later came to seek food and were not allowed to leave for a while. From this we learn the terrible severity of the sin of sin'at ḥinam, causeless hatred.  

Many events in Jewish history are attributed to the sins and events of the sale of Joseph, based on the axiom that the destruction of the Holy Temple was rooted in sin'at ḥinam (Yoma 9b). For instance, the Temple was built in the portion of the tribe of Binyamin because he was the only one of Joseph's brothers who did not take part in his kidnapping and sale. In addition, Yehuda did not merit to have the Temple built in his inheritance because, though he tried to save Joseph, he did so weakly, and did not succeed. 

But we must understand: Was the brothers' hatred of Joseph truly "causeless?" They actually had a seemingly good reason, which was that he spoke slanderously about them to their father (37,2). And even though he certainly had good intentions - that their father should reprove and educate them - he should have spoken to them first. In addition, lashon hara (slanderous speech) is such a grave sin that it is likened to the three cardinal sins of idol worship, incest, and murder (Tr. Arachin 15b). Were the brothers not justified in their hatred of Joseph? 

To answer this, we must learn an important point made by the Rambam in his commentary on the Mishna (end of Tractate Sanhedrin), where he outlined his famous Thirteen Principles of Faith. The Rambam wrote: "One who believes in these principles is [officially] an Israelite, and we are obligated to love him and have compassion on him and treat him with love and brotherhood – even if he may have committed a sin because of his lusts and the strength of the Evil Inclination upon him… Only one who heretically departs from these principles of faith may and must be hated…" [I found no rishonim, great Torah scholars of the Medieval Period, who differed with the Rambam in this point.]  

Every hatred of a Jew who is not a heretic is forbidden! It is sin'at ḥinam and a sin that has brought upon us the exile to Egypt and the destruction of the Holy Temple. And the Jerusalem Talmud teaches [Yoma 1,1]: "Every generation in which the Holy Temple was not rebuilt, is considered as if it were destroyed in that generation." This means that since G-d certainly wants to rebuild His Temple, He does not because the sin of causeless hatred is still rampant and therefore prevents it. As such, those who act with hatred towards other Jews are responsible for the continued destruction of the Holy Temple! 

Rav Chaim Yosef David Azulai (18th century, Jerusalem), known by the acronym Ḥida, wrote as follows:  

"Hatred stems from arrogance. And the Second Temple was destroyed because of it, even though that generation was otherwise great in Torah and mitzvot (Yoma 9b). And we continue to be guilty of this sin. How then can we merit Redemption while the reason for the destruction – sin'at ḥinam – is still rampant among us?" 

We do not need to be reminded of the many examples of this sin in our midst. Many sectors refer to others with derision and call each other names, while public figures verbally attack each other mercilessly.  

The Chafetz Chaim (Orach Chaim 1, Mishna Berurah and Beiur Halakha) wrote that one must not fight with others regarding the observance of Torah commandments – unless his rivals are heretics who are seeking to uproot Torah observance and he has first sought to make peace with them.  

But regarding our approach to Torah-observant Jews who follow their rabbis – if one engages in disseminating hatred against them, his sin is greater than can be borne. [See my work Otzrot HaMussar, p. 981-982.] One who studies the story of the sale of Joseph and is not shocked to trembling from the causeless hatred that caused it, has simply missed the point. And as the Ḥida wrote (cited above), this has great ramifications for our generation as well.  

The author of the Kitzur Shulchan Arukh, Rabbi Shlomo Ganzfried, wrote that one who has sin'at ḥinam in his heart for a Jew, his prayers are not heard. And the Arizal states that this is true not only on Yom Kippur, but all year long. We thus hear a terrible warning as to why many of our prayers are not answered, whether for communal matters or those of the individual.  

Just like one would never eat meat whose kashrut is doubtful, one must all the more so run away from any doubtful situation regarding hatred for another Jew. The rabbis of every group must teach this educational point over and over, almost more than any other topic. 

In conclusion, let us see the words of Rav Kook that he wrote in the wake of the terrible dispute regarding the sale of land during the Shemittah year: "We must, in this generation, grasp onto the attribute of peace, and increase love and brotherhood in Israel, and increase the honor of Torah scholars." (Igrot HaR'iyah, Vol. I, p. 347).