Mikketz
After years in prison, Joseph is brought to Pharaoh to interpret his dreams. He tells Pharaoh that seven years of plenty will be followed by seven years of famine, and how to deal with this, and Pharaoh appoints him viceroy of Egypt. Joseph’s brothers come to Egypt to buy food, don't recognise Joseph, and are accused of treachery and imprisoned. When Joseph forces them to bring his youngest brother, Benjamin, to Egypt, Joseph plants his silver cup in his sack, leading to a final confrontation.
Mikketz - Michael Harris
Michael Harris has been rabbi of The Hampstead (United) Synagogue since 1995. He holds a PhD in Philosophy from SOAS, University of London. He is a frequent presenter at Limmud Conference.
Pessimism is perhaps a natural concomitant of early twenty-first century life. The communications revolution ensures that we have instant and detailed knowledge of developments across the globe. So often, the news which reaches us is painful: despite our technological advances, our world is full of intractable and violent conflict, deaths from preventable disease, suffering and deprivation. The ecological threat posed to the planet we inhabit by our own recklessness intensifies daily, and the spectre of terrorism haunts even the cities of prosperous democracies.
Against this backdrop, a remark of the great nineteenth century Chassidic leader Rabbi Yehuda Aryei Leib of Gur (the Gerer Rebbe), in his celebrated commentary Sefat Emet on a verse in the Sidra of Mikketz, takes on added significance. The Torah reports that "Joseph recognised his brothers; but they did not recognize him" (Genesis 42:8). According to the Sefat Emet, Joseph's brothers' failure to recognize him had nothing to do with any failure of memory on their part, nor was it related to Joseph's changed appearance. Rather, embedded in the very essence of the Egypt of the time was darkness – metaphorical, but nevertheless obscuring. And in the darkness, one cannot recognize another person; not even one's own brother.
Yet Joseph did recognize his brothers. He was able to harness sufficient spiritual light to transcend the gloominess of his surroundings. The righteous Joseph, Yosef HaTzadik, showed that the darkness, though powerful and enervating, could be overcome. Joseph successfully countered his surroundings, too, in transmitting the values of our faith to his sons, Ephraim and Menashe - in whose names we still bless our sons each Friday night – despite the idolatrous Egyptian environment.
With sufficient courage, determination and tenacity, a little bit of light can dispel much darkness. This message is also illustrated by the festival of Chanukah, which usually coincides with the reading of Parashat Mikketz. As the Al HaNissim prayer reminds us, the forces of Greco-Syrian oppression were defeated by a much smaller and weaker Jewish army. The other miracle of Chanukah, the miracle of the oil, conveys a similar lesson. The one undefiled cruse of oil, sufficient to keep the Temple Menorah alight only for a single day, in fact proved to be enough for eight days. Once there was even a small amount of light to dispel the darkness, its momentum proved irresistible.
Moreover, although our practice is to light more than one candle other than on the first night of Chanukah, the basic mitzvah of Chanukah is ner ish uveito – one candle per household on each evening of the festival. A single candle has the power to fulfil the central halachic requirement of the chag.
Living a Jewish life within a deeply secular culture is a significant challenge. So is living an ethical life in an often cruel world. Yet Joseph in Parashat Mikketz and the festival of Chanukah remind us of the healing and transformative power of even the smallest light that each of us can create.
My Favourite Text - Halima Krausen
Compete for the Good
Having studied Islamic theology and law, Halima usually teaches in Muslim circles but after years of interfaith dialogue she increasingly enjoys teaching and studying with people from other religious traditions, focussing on texts and their interpretation.
We sent down to you the scripture in truth, confirming what was already there in the scripture and protecting it. Therefore judge between them according to what God sent down and do not follow their desires against the truth that has come to you. To each of you We have given a framework of ethics and law and a path. If God had wanted, He could have made you one single community, but this is in order to test you by what He has given you. Therefore compete with each other for the good. The return of all of you is to God, then He will enlighten you about that which you used to differ in. (Qur'an, Sura 5:48)
In case you wonder how suddenly a passage from the Qur'an appears in "A Taste of Limmud": after some Jewish-Muslim Limmud study sessions I was asked to write on a text that means a lot to me. While this is also true for some Biblical texts, this verse seems to be a summary both for my self-understanding as a Muslim and for my perspetive on the coexistence the monotheistic faith groups.
The passage starts some verses back, reminding of the revelation of the Torah "containing guidance and light", the basis for teachings and judgements of generations of prophets, rabbis and scholars, binding for the Jewish community. Then comes the message given to Jesus, confirming earlier teachings and binding for the Christians. Here, Muhammad is addressed in his capacity as the chief judge of Madinah with citizens belonging mainly to Muslim and Jewish tribal groups. He is reminded of haqq, truth or justice, as the objective of revelation, and directed follow these principles (as explained in other passages) notwithstanding the self-interest of any of these groups. Their differences are not meaningless but may be considered a test, an occasion "to compete with each other for the good". The idea reminds me of the Parable of the Rings by the 18th century philosopher Lessing: only the results of the three brothers' behaviour will eventually prove who inherited the genuine ring. While the story has a pessimistic touch, leaving open the possibilities that only one ring or even none of them is the original, the Qur'an emphasises the genuine origin of all three religious messages.
Meanwhile I am well aware that this passage is systematically ignored by exclusivist Muslims. Supercessionists translate the references to "guidance and light" in earlier scriptures in the past tense, implying a loss of validity through human interference or later revelations. This would, however, render any competition absurd, for what would be the point without a real chance for all participants? Besides, both views clash with the otherwise positive Qur'anic assessment of variety in creation as an expression of the One Creator: minerals, plants, animals, different languages, colours and even forms of worship among human beings. Understanding religions as different paths does not automatically imply moral relativism: all of them teach values and norms for a constructive life with amazingly similar principles. Religious pluralism could well be a competition for the good.
I am well aware that Muslims often idealize 7th century Madinah, ignoring open conflicts, hidden resentments and personal ambitions that interfered with the implementation of the concept. Many historical details remain unknown and critical remarks in the Qur'an go without a clarifying context. In interfaith encounters during a political conflict I feel some of the pain of standing between the lines in search for justice and reconciliation while it would be much easier just to take sides, that makes me wonder how Muhammad managed with his situation. Justice does not leave space for Antisemitism or Islamophobia but necessitates critical and self-critical questions - possibly unsettling when the dialogue is still about coming to know each other. On the other hand, this passage dates back to the time after the Madinan conflicts: in spite of everything, the vision is still there.
I am well aware that terrible crimes have been and are being committed in the name of religion to an extent that that I understand atheist friends who turned their backs to religion in disgust while working for justice and peace from a more modest starting point. Sometimes faith groups indeed seem to compete in bad actions, racing in the opposite direction towards the worship of power instead of the One who provided us with guidance. Shouldn't we rather pause and reflect, shake hands, apologize for our previous unfairness - and have a fresh start? After all, we share the responsibility for our world.