Turn It Again: Torah Wisdom for Today
In Pirkei Avot, a book of maxims in the Mishnah, an ancient rabbi, Ben Bag-Bag said about Torah study, “Hafokh bah, va’Hafokh vah, d’khola bah.” Turn it over and over, for everything is in it. For two thousand years, that’s what Jews have done. Here is another turning.
Parshat Vayigash 2024
Man Bites Dog: Lessons from Joseph
“When a dog bites a man, that’s not news because it happens all the time. But when a man bites a dog, that’s news.”
We are attracted to drama and the unusual. Evolutionary biologists offer numerous reason for how our fascination with the macabre serves us, such as readying us to fight or flee potential danger. Yet we live in an age in which explosive anger has become the norm. Last week, during an altercation ignited by road rage, one Australian pulled his car in front of another driver, then proceeded to bite the man’s finger.
While the Torah is a book about love, no account of human behavior would be complete without an exploration of anger, and the Bible never shies away from the truth. For instance, Cain kills Abel because he can’t control his anger and jealousy, Abraham nearly sacrifices Isaac in an act of religious zeal, while Esau sells his birthright because his hunger takes over. In one of the most disturbing Biblical narratives, Shimon and Levi commit genocide against a whole town after their sister Dinah is raped. For his part, after the Golden Calf, Moses orders the death of thousands. Simultaneously, on numerous occasions, Moses pleads with God to control divine rage.
Anger is everywhere. Yet when the Torah presents us with rage, it is not meant to titillate or entertain us, but to teach us how to overcome or control our emotions. The Torah is a manual of self-growth and when violence is imminent, the narrative is often interrupted with a reminder that we can be better than our most destructive emotions. An angel stops Abraham from taking Isaac’s life, Jacob strongly rebukes Shimon and Levi, and God repeatedly demonstrates the capacity to be pacified.
Perhaps the master lesson in this comes just before Cain commits one of the first recorded acts of fratricide, God asks him, ““Why are you distressed, and why is your face fallen? Surely, if you do right, there is uplift. But if you do not do right, sin couches at the door; its urge is toward you, yet you can be its master.” (Genesis 4:6-7). The advice goes unheeded. Self-control is a learned behavior, and it often requires a society that values and teaches forbearance.
Mastering our coarser emotions is a necessity of civil society, one which comes with rewards: The possibility God is offering us is the capacity to transform ourselves. Chizkuni, a 13th century French commentator, explains that “the word שאת (uplift) is to be understood as: “gift.” In the 16th century, the Italian exegete Sforno elaborates on this, stating that when we master ourselves, spiritual and emotional greatness await us.
Joseph surely has reasons to submit to his rage. His brothers hate him enough to throw him into a pit and sell him into slavery. Potiphar, for whom he works, unjustly tosses him into prison. Powerful emotions and events sweep over him, threatening all he has built. In parashat Vayigash, we read “Joseph could no longer control himself before all his attendants, so he cried out, “Have everyone withdraw from me!” So there was no one else about when Joseph made himself known to his brothers.”
Joseph has the means to punish his brothers in the most severe manner possible for the harm they inflicted on him. His position of power virtually assures him that there would be no repercussions should he do so. Meanwhile, he is deeply distraught, which is exactly the moment when our rage and destructive emotions often overrule us. But not with Joseph. He sends out all of his servants so as not to embarrass his brothers when he reminds them of their evil. And then he not only forgives them, but tells them that even though their behavior was malicious, it created the necessary conditions to save the lives of millions. Joseph experiences uplift, this gift of magnanimous growth and spiritual genius. His brothers are also the beneficiaries of his emotional intelligence.
This is ultimately one of the deepest teachings the Torah wants to transmit to us. Rage is part and parcel of what it is to be human, yet its presence offers us a profound opportunity to transform ourselves, often through an act of vulnerability, as Joseph models for us. This is the inheritance he bequeathes to us. May we be wise enough to claim it for ourselves.
