December 10th: Vayigash
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
In a few weeks, we shall read the ominous words, “A new king arose over Egypt who did not know Joseph. And he said to his people, ‘Look, the Israelite people are much too numerous for us. Let us deal shrewdly with them…’ So they set taskmasters over them to oppress them with forced labor…” (Exodus 1.8-11)
This is so different from the wonderful greeting we get in this week’s Torah portion! “Pharoah said to Joseph, ‘As regards your father and your brothers who have come to you, the land of Egypt is open before you: settle your father and your brothers in the best part of the land; let them stay in the region of Goshen.’” (Genesis 47.5-6)
What happens between Genesis 47 and Exodus 1?
One of the interesting things about antiquity is that evidence—textual or archeological—can be both abundant and limited, leaving lots of room for ambiguity and interpretation. For a modern example, consider the American Civil War. There is a lot of evidence, but we do not know everything—leading to a multitude of different takes and interpretations: Why did the North fight? Why did the South fight? Why did the various soldiers fight? And, in a question that recently had a monument in Washington, D.C. removed, were the African slaves freed by Lincoln and other white people, or did the African slaves participate in their own liberation?
There can also be significance in the absence of evidence. A recent article in the The Smithsonian magazine reports on an interesting controversy at the archeological excavations in Timna, in the Arava desert in the south of Israel. In a place that seems to be the site of a sophisticated ancient copper mining operation, there is a surprising lack of archeological evidence of who did the mining. Archeology usually focusses on buildings and other physical artifacts, but there are no buildings. Does this mean that no one lived there—or does it mean that the inhabitants lived in non-permanent dwellings? The current thinking is that a very sophisticated society (based on evidence in the mines) lived there in tents and therefore did not leave the kinds of city ruins upon which archeology so depends. In other words, the lack of evidence may suggest a different take on the story.
In the case of ancient Egypt and the Israelites—and what happened to turn a great relationship into an oppressive one, the key may be in the continuing applicability of the term “the Egyptians.” While someone ruled Egypt, the ruling parties or ethnic groups were not the same over the whole history of “Ancient Egypt.” In addition to “local” power politics, there was an invasion of people from Anatolia (modern day Turkey) back in the Second Millennium BCE. These Hyksos swept down through Syria, Lebanon, Israel, and the Sinai, leaving interesting architectural artifacts as they eventually took over Egypt. Then, a few centuries later, they seem to have been expelled, and Egypt was ruled by a different group of “Egyptians.” Many historians think that both the welcoming of foreigners at one time and the oppression of foreigners at a later time are part and parcel of this larger story of the Hyksos in Egypt.
Another angle of the Joseph story involves a massive societal reorganization that is described in Genesis. First, let us recall how Joseph comes to his high position. Pharaoh has two disturbing dreams which none of his advisers can interpret. Joseph is called from prison and asked by Pharoah to explain the dreams’ meanings. “I have heard it said of you that for you to hear a dream is to tell its meaning.” However, Joseph draws an important distinction. “Not I! God will see to Pharaoh’s welfare.” (Genesis 41.15-16) So, speaking God’s message, Joseph explains the dreams: a fourteen-year situation is approaching—with seven years of plenty and seven years of famine. Joseph suggests that Pharoah use this knowledge to plan and deal with both the blessing and the curse. Pharaoh likes what Joseph says and sees in him an excellent administrator. “‘Could we find another like him, a man in whom is the spirit of God?” So, Pharaoh appoints Joseph as head of the entire royal court. Further, “See, I put you in charge of all the land of Egypt.’ And removing his signet ring from his hand, Pharaoh put it on Joseph’s hand….thus he placed him over all the land of Egypt.” (Genesis 41.38-43)
During the seven years of plenty, Joseph supervises a great collection of grain. Then, when the seven years of famine strike, Joseph dispenses the grain—but at a price, and the coffers of the Egyptian monarchy are swelled. When the people’s money runs out, “…all the Egyptians came to Joseph and said, ‘Give us bread, lest we die before your very eyes; for the money is gone!’” So, Josephs accepts their livestock in payment for the foodstuffs. Then, when the livestock runs out, the people offer all that they have left. “Take us and our land in exchange for bread, and we with our land will be serfs to Pharaoh; provide the seed, that we may live and not die, and that the land may not become a waste.’ So Joseph gained possession of all the farmland of Egypt for Pharaoh, every Egyptian having sold his field because the famine was too much for them; thus the land passed over to Pharaoh.” (Genesis 47.13-22) The rest of the chapter describes a massive population relocation—with people moving off their farms and into labor pools to work Pharaoh’s land.
In other words, in the face of this major economic crisis, Joseph and Pharaoh effect a major change in the Egyptian social and agricultural structure. This too must be seen as part of the story of the Hyksos dominion of Egypt.
How all these factors mixed and how this dynamic set the stage for the dramatic change of fortune for the Israelites provide fertile ground for theories and doctoral dissertations. As I said before, there is both evidence and lack of evidence—with enough ambiguity for many, many interpretations.
While the historical story is thus relatively malleable, the religious approach has been remarkably stable. In all of this drama—both family and geopolitically, God is present. God is aware of how we react to the stimuli of our lives and times, and God is with us in weathering the difficulties. God is always present, as well, in inspiring us to find purpose, goodness, and holiness. As Joseph will explain to his brothers in next week’s Torah portion, “Though you intended me harm, God intended it for good…” (Genesis 50.20) We may not understand God’s ways or be privy to God’s timing, but we are taught to keep God in our thinking all the time. God is with us, and God has hopes for the ways we respond.