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Rav Kook (Shemuot Re’iah)

Parshat Miketz provides a unique opportunity to explore the personality of Yosef, and his unique spiritual potential. There are also many connections between Yosef and Channukah,[1]and it is not a coincidence that Parshat Miketz falls out on Channukah every year.

Any correct perspective on the conflict between Yosef and his brothers must start with an understanding that this wasn’t a petty squabble motivated by jealousy. The root of the disagreement among the brothers was ideological. There were two approaches to Divine service in Ya’akov’s family, one championed by Yosef, the other by Judah. Each of them was the most prominent descendant of their respective mothers, and laid the foundation for the spiritual architecture of the Jewish people. As stated in Megilat Rut (4:11), “Like Rachel and Leah, both of whom built the House of Israel.”

The fundamental divergence between Yosef and Yehuda was as follows. Yosef stressed the mission of the Jewish people as “a light unto the nations.” In order to fulfill this goal, Yosef felt that we must interact with the nations of the world and make a concerted effort to draw them toward the monotheistic teachings of Judaism. His rise to power of Egypt was more than a matter of politics or economics. It served a deeper spiritual purpose as well. His oversight of Pharaoh’s empire enabled him to introduce G-d consciousness into the pagan darkness of Egypt, which was the most powerful and influential empire in the world at that time. Indeed, when Yosef sends word to his father that he is still alive, he asks his brothers to report that “G-d has placed me a master over all of Egypt,” שמני אלקים לאדון על כל מצרים. These words contain a deeper level of meaning as well – “I have placed G-d as a Master over all of Egypt.”

Yehuda, on the other hand, was concerned about the inevitable negative influences that come from interacting with pagan cultures. He emphasized the separateness of particular sanctity of the Jewish people, as “a nation that dwells alone” (Bamidbar 23:9). Yehuda feared that Yosef’s philosophy of openness and integration would endanger Israel’s future.

These conflicting views are embodied by the contrast between the Mishkan and the Temple in Jerusalem. Until it was destroyed by Phillistines in the period of the Shoftim, the Mishkan stayed at Shiloh after the Jews entered and conquered the Land of Israel. Shiloh was in the territory of the tribe Yosef, so there must be a profound connection between the Mishkan and Yosef. The Mishkan was a temporary structure, and expresses the idea of Israel’s kedushah spreading outward. For this reason, the Talmud )Zevachim 118b) teaches that while the Mishkan was in Shiloh, korbanot could be eaten outside its walls, as long as the Mishkan was in sight. In fact, this is derived from a verse about Yosef, which describes him as בן פורת עלי עין.

The Mikdash, on the other hand, rested primarily in the territory of Yehuda. And korbanot in the Temple could only be eaten within the walls of the Temple or the city of Yerushalayim (depending on the type of korban). The Mikdash expresses the perspective of Yehuda, that one must build walls in order to protect the unique sanctity of the Jewish people.

The holiday of Chanukah commemorates a similar struggle, the conflict between Israel’s integration with the rest of humanity and the need to preserve our distinct sanctity. The Greeks demanded adoption of their customs, the prevalent culture of the day. We know about their persecution against Torah observance, but the midrash (Vayikra Rabbah 13:5) records a peculiar Greek decree from that period. They demanded that the Jews “write on the horn of the ox that you have no share in the G-d of Israel.” Some interpret this as a reference to the Golden Calf, but in light of our earlier discussion, it seems more likely that it alludes to Yosef, who is referred to as an “ox” in the blessing of Moshe (Devarim 33:17).[2]The Hellenists claimed that they were only calling on us to continue in Yosef’s path, which they misinterpreted as an endorsement of assimilation and a rejection of Jewish distinctiveness.

This is the same reason that, according to the Mishnah (Midot 2:3), the Greeks broke down certain walls in the Mikdash. (We reference this in Ma’oz Tzur, in the stanza ופרצו חומות מגדלי.) Specifically, the Greeks specifically broke down the soreg, the wall that delineated the area into which non-Jews were not allowed to proceed in the Temple. Unlike other oppressors throughout our history, the Greeks were not opposed to the existence of the Mikdash. Nor were they set on destroying it. They didn’t even want to physically exile us from our land. Instead, they were opposed to any concept of chosenness, of distinction between Israel and the nations, between pure and impure.

Thus, the conflict with the Greeks was not only a physical war, but a spiritual conflict as well. The Chashmonaim were Kohanim from the tribe of Levi, whose natural spiritual path aligns with the separation and exclusiveness of Yehuda. As kohanim, they drew on the special sanctity of priesthood that separated them from the rest of the Jewish people. As part of their victory over the Greeks, they discovered a single jar of oil that had remained tahor, with the seal of the High Priest intact. This jar of pure oil was a sign that the inner sanctity of Israel remained intact, undefiled by contact with Greece and its paganism.

[1]Certain connections are already apparent in Chazal – such as the Talmud’s discussion of the laws of Channukah, where a midrashic exposition of the Yosef story makes an abrupt appearance. Later commentators find many conceptual connections and allusions to Channukah in the Yosef story.

[2]And possibly in the blessings of Ya’akov as well. See Bereishit 49:6 with commentaries.

Food for Thought

Rav Shimshon Pincus (Chanukah Sichot, pg. 51): When Yehuda was born, his mother Leah said, “I thank Hashem.” She recognized that all comes from Hashem, and she gave Yehuda a name that reflects that fact. This was always Leah’s attitude. Thus we read (Bereishit 29:17) that Leah’s eyes were red, for she was always crying her heart out to Hashem. Likewise, Yehuda’s descendant, David, said of himself (Tehilim 22:7), “I am a worm, not a man.” Despite his great accomplishments, David took no credit for himself, for he recognized that all comes from Hashem. In contrast, Yosef attributed to a person greater control over his own spiritual standing. And, he taught that this requires a person to be perfect. In our parashah, both Yehuda and Yosef faced similar challenges. Yehuda seemingly failed his test (with Tamar), but he confessed and moved on with his life. Likewise, Yehuda’s descendants David and Menashe erred and repented. This was not Yosef’s view. He told Potiphar’s wife (paraphrasing 39:9), “If I fail, I shall be considered a sinner.” The Gemara teaches that Yaakov appeared to Yosef at that moment and told him that his place among the tribes would be forfeited forever if he failed his test. In contrast to Leah, Yosef’s mother Rachel is described as perfectly beautiful. Rachel’s descendant King Shaul also had to be perfect, and, for one sin, he forfeited his entire kingdom. Yosef’s brothers felt that Yosef’s approach was dangerously close to Greek philosophy. The Greeks, too, preached self- improvement and perfection, but this ultimately leads to denying G-d. Unlike the Greeks, Yosef’s focus was on spiritual improvement, but Yosef’s brothers felt that any philosophy that attributes undue importance to man’s accomplishments is heretical.

Rabbi Avraham Gordimer: Yosef was severed from his family at the young age of 17. Faced with a strange land and language, as well as a culture of idolatry and hedonism, Yosef pulled through with G-d’s help to become the leader of the Jewish nation and its spiritual protector. Confronted by hatred, enslavement, physical temptation, imprisonment and scorn, Yosef steadfastly kept faith and commitment under the most challenging of circumstances to emerge strong and eventually affirm his stature as the bearer of Yaakov’s mesorah… The Chashmonaim and their supporters were in a very similar position. The Jews at the time were spiritually stifled, having to observe mitzvos clandestinely, while the Greek values of hedone and idolatry were thrust in their faces, backed by military threat. The challenges and adversity to Torah ideology and commitment were immense, and Torah observance was banned and disparaged; despite this all, the Chashmonaim and their followers persevered and emerged victoriously. Just like Yosef’s salvation came about through natural means, but it was clear that Hashem was behind it all, the wars of Chanukah lacked revealed miracles; only the continual flame, representing the Shechinah – Hashem’s Presence – attested that G-d was working it all from behind the scenes and was the source of all that transpired. The realization that Hashem designs and manipulates nature compels our recitation of Hallel on Chanukah, and our perseverance in Torah and mitzvos in the face of the adversity of secular society should be inspired by Yosef and the Chashmonaim, as we commemorate and internalize the miracles “of those days in these (and all) times”.

Professor William Kolbrener: The Jewish Pride of the Hasmoneans got under the skin of the Greeks, just as claims to Jewish exceptionalism gets under the skin of anti-Semites and anti-Zionists today. Of course, for the latter, the state of Israel is the most egregious and unforgivable expression of Jewish exceptionalism. In the time of Antiochus, the Assyrian Greek descendants of Plato and Aristotle exploited their claim towards universalism – the ‘woke’ culture of the time – as part of a program to wipe out Jewish expressions of difference: no Torah learning, no circumcision, no celebration of the new month. The Greeks sought to strike at the heart of Jewish difference – the Jews’ stubborn refusal to give up tradition in the face of a not-really-so-enlightened, and certainly intolerant, enlightenment culture… On Hanukkah, we take a lesson from the courageous Maccabees, and express Jewish singularity and difference. More that, on Hanukkah, we acknowledge that being chosen is not an embarrassment, but a responsibility – so we come out of the closet and advertise the miracle of the Hanukkah lamp, a sign of our triumph over Greek universalist attempts to eradicate us, and our commitment to being guided by a higher ideal – in every aspect of our lives…

Where at other times, we may try to just blend in, on Hanukkah, we publicize the miracle, and proclaim our difference through the light of the lamps. Even the sober and rationalist Maimonides gets excited by Hanukkah – a holiday he describes with unusual emphasis as ‘very beloved.’ Indeed, Jews proclaim their difference, at this time of year, with special enthusiasm, refusing a ‘woke’ form of universalism which does not allow for Jewish distinctiveness – whether through Jewish practice and thought or in support for Israel. Hanukkah is Jewish Pride Week – a time to come out of the closet and be proud.