Dreams, the Land of Fear, & Va-yeishev
This week is all about dreams.
I’m fulfilling my dream of becoming a rabbi in just three weeks! At age 60!
But before we get to that, we begin with this:
וַיֵּ֣שֶׁב יַעֲקֹ֔ב בְּאֶ֖רֶץ מְגוּרֵ֣י אָבִ֑יו בְּאֶ֖רֶץ כְּנָֽעַן׃
Vayeishev Yaakov b’eretz m’gurey aviv b’eretz c’na’an.
There are at least two ways to interpret this very first verse of the Parsha.
The most common translations are, “And Jacob settled/dwelled in the land where his father had sojourned, in the land of Canaan,” or “in the land of his father’s sojourn.”
Kind of boring.
We could also say, “And Jacob settled in the land of his father’s fear.”
Much more interesting.
Because מְגוּרֵ֣י/m’gurey, or מְגוּרֵ֣/m’gur, is another word for fear or terror—it’s “the fear of” his father.
R. Levi Yitzchak of Berdichev commented that this meant that Jacob embraced his father’s fear, as in “The fear of Isaac” (Gen. 31:42).
Jacob wasn’t finally settling down in his old age, at peace and able to relax with all the wealth he had accumulated, free of challenges (A Partner in Holiness, Enriching our Lives through the Wisdom of R. Levi Yitshak of Berdichev’s Kedushat Levi, by Rabbi Jonathan Slater).
No.
Jacob had absorbed his father’s fear, and had not managed to grow beyond it.
Thus, “settling” in peace did not apply to him.
Perhaps this is why he is referred to here by his ego-centered, short-sighted identity of "Heal-Clinger Jacob.”
His new name, Israel, given to him last week after wrestling with the Divine, is not used here.
Israel implies transformation to the one who understands Unification with Oneness beyond the egoic self.
But Jacob is still limping from his wounds.
His dream of settling down in peace can not be fulfilled.
Not only does he continue his father’s legacy of dwelling in a place of fear; we go on to learn that he is also dwelling in his father’s favoritism, which caused so much damage to his relationship with his twin Esau.
Yes, Jacob, too, has chosen favorites: Joseph, his favored wife Rachel’s youngest son.
This causes rivalry among the many brothers, especially because Joseph has internalized his specialness.
His father even gives him an ornamented tunic that shows off his status.
And being the spoiled child that he is, Joseph does not learn to be sensitive to others.
At 17, he is haughty, bringing “bad reports” back from the fields where they pastor, and sharing dreams that show his superiority.
He has a special gift as a dreamer, interpreting his own and those of others’.
He tells his brothers and his father of dreams that illustrate that they will one day bow down to him.
It struck me that the root word מָגַר/magar, from our first sentence above (the noun meaning sojourn or fear), means something totally different as a verb: to be hurled, tossed, or thrown.
In their vengeful jealousy, Joseph’s brothers throw him into a pit, conspiring to kill him, hoping to erase his dreams:
“Come now, let us kill him and throw him into one of the pits; and we can say, ‘A savage beast devoured him.’ We shall see what comes of his dreams!”
וְעַתָּ֣ה ׀ לְכ֣וּ וְנַֽהַרְגֵ֗הוּ וְנַשְׁלִכֵ֙הוּ֙ בְּאַחַ֣ד הַבֹּר֔וֹת וְאָמַ֕רְנוּ חַיָּ֥ה רָעָ֖ה אֲכָלָ֑תְהוּ וְנִרְאֶ֕ה מַה־יִּהְי֖וּ חֲלֹמֹתָֽיו׃
V’atah l’chu v’naharogeyhu v’nashlicheyhu b’achad hab’orot v’amarnu chaya ra’ah achalat’hu v’nir’eh ma yihyu chalomotanav (Gen. 37:20).
But—
Reuben says, “Shed no blood! Cast him into that pit out in the wilderness, but do not touch him yourselves”—intending to save him from them and restore him to his father.”
וַיֹּ֨אמֶר אֲלֵהֶ֣ם ׀ רְאוּבֵן֮ אַל־תִּשְׁפְּכוּ־דָם֒ הַשְׁלִ֣יכוּ אֹת֗וֹ אֶל־הַבּ֤וֹר הַזֶּה֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר בַּמִּדְבָּ֔ר וְיָ֖ד אַל־תִּשְׁלְחוּ־ב֑וֹ לְמַ֗עַן הַצִּ֤יל אֹתוֹ֙ מִיָּדָ֔ם לַהֲשִׁיב֖וֹ אֶל־אָבִֽיו׃
Va’yomer aleyhem, “Al tishp’chu dam! Hashlichu oto al ha’bor hazey asher bamidbar, v’yad al tishlachu-vo.” L’maan hatzil oto miyadam lahashivo el aviv. (Gen. 37:22)
Thus, they strip Joseph of his special tunic, symbolically stripping him of his superior status, and throw him into the pit.
Judah then suggests selling him to some passing Midianites.
They then take his tunic, streak it with animal blood, and present it to their father, Jacob:
“And he recognized it, and said, ‘My son’s tunic! A savage beast devoured him! Joseph was torn by a beast!’”
וַיַּכִּירָ֤ה וַיֹּ֙אמֶר֙ כְּתֹ֣נֶת בְּנִ֔י חַיָּ֥ה רָעָ֖ה אֲכָלָ֑תְהוּ טָרֹ֥ף טֹרַ֖ף יוֹסֵֽף׃
“Vaykira, va’yomer, “K’tonet b’ni! Khaya ra’a akhalat’hu tarof toref Yosef!”
As the eldest, Reuben has the responsibility to keep his youngest brother safe, and will most likely take the greatest blame if anything happens to him.
But speaking of dreams, Reuben also has the dream of being the inheritor of his father’s wealth, which is threatened by his father’s favoritism towards Joseph. He feels a responsibility as the eldest, is afraid of what will happen if harm comes to Joseph, but also wants Joseph gone.
Judah, who suggested selling Joseph into slavery rather than killing him, has his own dreams. He moves on, settles elsewhere, marries, and has children.
His dreams are dashed as tragedy comes upon his family.
First one son marries, then dies.
As required by law, he gives his second son to the same daughter-in-law, Tamar.
He dies too.
Now Judah is afraid to give his third son to her lest he die also.
He promises that when the youngest is old enough, she will marry him. In the meantime, he sends Tamar back to her father’s house, never intending to follow through.
But Tamar has her dreams as well.
And she is our heroine, while living in a time and place that has little regard for her needs or prospects.
She takes her dream and intends to fulfill it:
“So she took off her widow’s garb, covered her face with a veil, and, wrapping herself up, sat down at the entrance to Enaim,…for she saw that Shelah was grown up, yet she had not been given to him as wife.
וַתָּ֩סַר֩ בִּגְדֵ֨י אַלְמְנוּתָ֜הּ מֵֽעָלֶ֗יהָ וַתְּכַ֤ס בַּצָּעִיף֙ וַתִּתְעַלָּ֔ף וַתֵּ֙שֶׁב֙ בְּפֶ֣תַח עֵינַ֔יִם… כִּ֤י רָאֲתָה֙ כִּֽי־גָדַ֣ל שֵׁלָ֔ה וְהִ֕וא לֹֽא־נִתְּנָ֥ה ל֖וֹ לְאִשָּֽׁה׃
Va’tasar bigdey alm’nutah ma’aleha, vat’chas batza’if va'tit’alaf vateshev b’petach eynayim…ki ra'ata ki gadal shela vhi lo nitnah lo l’ishah.
Posing as a prostitute, Judah sleeps with her, and she wins. The details are not important here.
Now we go back to Joseph’s story, where he ends up in servitude to the Pharaoh in Egypt.
First he is raised up as the most trusted of servants, very comfortable, then gets thrown into a second pit—this time, a dungeon in Pharaoh’s palace, for supposedly trying to seduce Pharaoh’s wife.
Thrown into a pit twice, he is at his lowest point, having been raised up, and thrown down again.
Indeed, what will be of his dreams now?
While in prison, he predicts the dreams of two other prisoners; one he tells will be saved, the other empaled.
He begs the one to remember him to Pharaoh once out and safe, but that doesn’t happen.
The other is impaled as predicted.
What has Joseph gained, and what was his purpose in sharing the interpretation of these dreams?
Who is helped?
Yet we will see in the coming weeks that it is he who saves the Israelites and his family from famine. This is a future he can not even imagine during his lowest moments.
Thus, this parsha is about dreams, and also about how fear causes us to act, and how this can affect our dreams.
Tamar is an excellent example of not allowing fear to get in the way. One can imagine she would be terrified at being found out. In fact, Judah threatens to have her burned alive until he is forced to recognize her identity and his promise to her.
Taking us back to the beginning of the parsha, Joseph is sent to find his brothers in the pasture.
Out in a field, “a man came upon him” as he was wandering (37:14).
We never hear from this man again, which is suspicious.
Is this another case of an angel posing as a man, as we did with Abraham and the messengers that came to announce Isaac’s birth, or the Divine being Jacob wrestled with?
Medieval Jewish philosopher Maimonides suggests just that; that an angel was sent to make sure Joseph doesn’t give up on his mission of finding his brothers.
Because if Joseph hadn’t met this angel, he wouldn’t have been sold into slavery, his family wouldn’t have followed him to Egypt, and he wouldn’t have been there to save them and his people from starvation later on.
Sometimes our lowest times can enrich our lives in ways we can never imagine.
Perhaps our dreams change as a result. Perhaps we realize that the older dreams were not good ones after all.
And what if we weren’t so quick to want to know the future?
Does it change things?
Maybe.
Predictions are powerful, and can make us give up on dreams.
But our dreams themselves are powerful.
Dreams keep us going just as making plans does. I read once that studies on centenarians say what they have in common is that they are always planning for the future; they always have a dream.
One example I remember was of a woman over a hundred planning her crops for her garden for next year.
She didn’t let anyone tell her that her dream was absurd.
What if we could plant seeds for our dreams?
And (maybe) believe that there’s an angel leading our way?
10th Century Torah commentator Rashi interpreted, “‘And he settled in the land of his father’s sogourn,’ as ‘He desired to live in tranquility.’ Even when fear and terror came upon him, he accepted it all with peace and tranquility” due to his great trust (R. Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev).
We shouldn’t cast aside our dreams, whether large or small; whether we have lots of time, or our days are numbered.
The truth is, all our days are numbered, even when we think we have all the time in the world.
We can adjust our dreams as we go.
And we shouldn’t allow the future to be predicted by other people.
Or for our fear to get in the way.
May we plant the seeds for our dreams, watch them grow, and sow them.
And say Amen.