The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit Midrash

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Yeshivat Har Etzion

PARASHAT MIKETZ

By Rav David Silverberg

            The opening verses of Parashat Miketz tell of Pharaoh's dream of the lean cows devouring the robust cows, and lean sheaves devouring the healthy sheaves.  The Torah (41:8) tells that in the morning, "Va-tipa'em rucho" – Pharaoh's "spirit was agitated" (from the JPS translation) – and he immediately summoned his advisors and sorcerers to decipher the encoded message embodied in the dream.

            Among the questions that arise from this incident is the issue of Pharaoh's "agitation" and the desperately urgent – almost compulsive – need he felt to arrive at the correct interpretation of the dream.  This question becomes even more troubling in light of the approximate parallel detected by Chazal (as cited by Rashi, 41:8) between Pharaoh's response to his dream and that of Nevukhadnetzar, as recorded in Sefer Daniel  - "Va-titpa'em rucho" (2:1).  As we learn later in that chapter, Nevukhadnetzar dreamt a frightening dream of an imposing statue suddenly being struck and collapsing.  That Pharaoh would react to his seemingly innocuous dream with somewhat similar fright requires some explanation.

            This question perhaps prompted a comment by the Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 89) to the parasha's opening verse.  Commenting on the phrase, "U-Pharaoh cholem" ("And Pharaoh dreamt"), the Midrash rhetorically asks, "And all other people do not dream?"  It then answers, "Rather, a king's dream is that of the entire world."  The Midrash is perhaps asking why Pharaoh responded to his dream with such urgency, and it explains that he did so because of his regal stature.  A dream shown to a king likely has relevance to the entire kingdom – and, in the case of the ancient Egyptian empire, the entire inhabited world – and he therefore felt an urgent need to decipher its encoded message.

            Rav Shimon Schwab, in Ma'ayan Beit Ha-sho'eiva, suggests a different reason why Pharaoh reacted as he did, pointing to the common theme underlying the two components of the dream.  Pharaoh dreamt of lean cows and sheaves devouring robust cows and sheaves, clearly symbolic of the phenomenon of – to borrow from this season's liturgy – giborim be-yad chalashim, rabim be-yad me'atim – the weak triumphing over the mighty, and the few defeating the many.  The Egyptian king had all along relied on his country's military might and economic prowess as the source of his nation's security and the stability of his monarchy.  Now he was suddenly shown the prospect of even the mightiest and most secure suffering defeat at the hands of the feeble.  This image shook the foundations of his sense of security, and he understandably responded with horror and an urgent need to discover the true meaning underlying this dream.

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            Towards the beginning of Parashat Miketz we read that Pharaoh summons his advisors to interpret his perplexing dream, and the cupbearer mentions to Pharaoh that during his term in prison, a Hebrew slave, Yosef, had correctly interpreted his and the baker's dreams.  The cupbearer recalls, "And it was indeed as he [Yosef] interpreted for us: I was reinstated in my post, and he [the baker] was hung" (41:13).  One might wonder why the cupbearer found it necessary to specify Yosef's interpretation of the dreams.  Seemingly, his point here is to attest to Yosef's talent in dream interpretation, and for this purpose it would have sufficed to inform Pharaoh that his interpretations proved accurate.  Why did the cupbearer specifically mention that he was reinstated and the baker was executed?

            Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg, in his Yalkut Yehuda, suggests that the cupbearer wanted to emphasize Yosef's "versatility" in dream interpretation, that he was capable of deciphering both dreams that foretold doom and those that heralded good tidings.  His power lay in his sheer objectivity, which enabled him to decipher all dreams accurately, without approaching them with preconceived notions regarding their outcome.  The fact that Yosef predicted both the cupbearer's reinstatement and the baker's execution demonstrated that his talents were genuine and he would not intentionally divert a dream in any preconceived direction.  Indeed, Yosef's interpretation of Pharaoh's dream entailed both blessing and calamity.  He predicted both seven years of plenty and the seven years of famine, just as he had foreseen both the cupbearer's freedom and the baker's death.

            We might extend this theory just a bit further to draw a general lesson from the cupbearer's description of Yosef's talents.  In all areas of life, it would do us well to "interpret" events and issues with pure objectivity and reach conclusions based on actual facts, rather than on our preconceived notions.  All too often, people tend to mold the hard data to suit their intuitive sense and a priori conclusions, rather than molding their intuitive sense in accordance with the hard data.  Yosef's interpretations of dreams perhaps teaches that in interpreting events around us, we should be theoretically prepared to reach conclusions in either direction, depending on the objective information before us.

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            In Parashat Miketz the Torah (41:50) tells of the birth of Yosef's two children, Efrayim and Menashe, emphasizing that they were born "before the year of famine set in."  The Gemara (Ta'anit 11a) deduces from this verse that marital relations are forbidden during periods of drought and famine.  The Torah emphasizes that Yosef begot children specifically before the onset of famine to indicate that once the famine set in he abstained from marital relations and thus begot no children during those years.  Rashi cites this Gemara in his commentary to this verse.

            Rav Eliyahu Mizrachi, in his work on Rashi's commentary, raises a question from a Midrash cited by Rashi earlier in Sefer Bereishit, in Parashat Toledot (26:8).  The Torah tells that famine struck the land of Canaan, forcing Yitzchak and Rivka to settle in the Philistine region of Gerar, where they posed as brother and sister, fearing that otherwise Yitzchak might be killed should one of the local men set his eyes upon Rivka.  But the Philistine king Avimelekh looked through the window and saw Yitzchak "being frivolous" with Rivka, which Chazal interpret as a euphemistic reference to marital relations.  Clearly, then, Yitzchak and Rivka maintained marital life despite the famine conditions.  Rav Eliyahu Mizrachi suggests that since the Philistine region did not suffer the harsh conditions that struck the inland areas of Canaan, this prohibition did not apply.  Marital relations are forbidden only in the affected areas, and not in surrounding regions.

            Tosefot there in Masekhet Ta'anit raise a different question, regarding a famous Midrashic statement that Yokheved, Levi's daughter who ultimately became the mother of Moshe Rabbenu, was born as Yaakov and his family crossed the border from Canaan into Egypt.  Yaakov's family resettled in Egypt due to the unbearably harsh famine conditions in Canaan, and thus Yokeheved was conceived during a period of drought.  How could Levi have maintained normal marital life during a time of famine?  Tosefot therefore conclude that this prohibition applies only on the level of midat chasidut – as an added measure of piety, rather than according to the strict halakha.  Strictly speaking, one may engage in marital relations during famine, but it is nevertheless deemed inappropriate.

            Several Acharonim rejected Tosefot's theory.  The Gevurot Ari (by the author of the Sha'agat Aryeh) notes that the Gemara formulated the halakha as, "It is forbidden for a person to engage in marital relations during years of hunger."  This very clearly suggests that we deal with an outright prohibition, rather than a measure of midat chasidut.  The Or Ha-chayim (here in Parashat Miketz) points out that Tosefot's answer presumes that Yosef felt obliged to follow this midat chasidut, whereas his brother Levi – whom Moshe describes in Parashat Vezot Haberakha (Devarim 33:8) as "ish chasidekha," the "pious man" of God – did not.  The Or Ha-chayim found it inconceivable that Yosef would strive for this standard whereas Levi would not.

            The Gevurot Ari and Or Ha-chayim therefore suggest (though with slightly different formulations) a different answer as to how Levi was permitted to engage in relations during the period of famine.  They approach this issue by way of a different question that troubled many writers.  The Gemara there establishes that chasukhei banim – people who have yet to beget children – are allowed to maintain marital relationships during periods of famine.  Now Yosef, as far as we know, had no daughters, and the mitzva of peru u-revu (procreation) requires that one beget at least one son and one daughter.  Why, then, was it forbidden for Yosef to engage in relations during the famine years?  The Gevurot Ari and Or Ha-chayim answer by advancing a novel reading of this Gemara.  They claim that in truth, Yosef was not required to abstain from relations during the famine, for the very reason mentioned.  The Gemara deduced this halakha not from Yosef's conduct, but rather from the otherwise superfluous phrase in the verse, "And two sons were born to Yosef before the year of famine set in."  The Torah emphasizes that the sons were born specifically before the drought to allude to the fact that under normal circumstances, it would have been forbidden for Yosef to engage in relations during famine.  In his specific case, however, as he had not begotten any daughters, it was permissible.

            According to their reading, then, Yosef was indeed permitted to engage in marital relations during the years of famine, due to the obligation of peru u-revu which requires begetting at least a son and a daughter.  Incidentally, the Maharal, in his Gur Aryeh, notes that this would also explain the case of Yitzchak, mentioned earlier.  Since Yitzchak had no daughters, he was permitted to engage in marital relations during the period of famine.

            We should note that the Beit Yosef (O.C. 574) read this Gemara as an asmakhta – a subtle allusion in the Biblical text for a law established later, rather than the actual source of the halakha.  He contends that in any event this prohibition did not apply at all before Matan Torah, and thus neither Yosef nor Levi was bound by this law.  His view, of course, obviates the need for this entire discussion.

            It should also be noted that Tosefot's question presumes a literal reading of the Midrash regarding Yokeheved's birth.  As we've discussed last year (in our S.A.L.T. series to Parashat Vayigash), the literal reading of this Midrash results in a severe chronological problem.  Benei Yisrael remained in Egypt for two hundred and ten years, and Moshe was eighty years old at the time of the Exodus.  If Yokheved – Moshe's mother – was born just as Benei Yisrael arrived in Egypt, then she had to have given birth to him at the age of one hundred and thirty.  It is very difficult to imagine that the Torah would not have made some kind of mention of this astounding miracle, especially in light of the "press coverage" the Torah gives to Sara's conception and delivery of Yitzchak at the age of ninety.  This might lead us to consider non-literal readings of the Midrash, which would easily resolve Tosefot's question as to how Levi continued marital life during the famine.  It is likely that Yokheved was actually born much later, in Egypt, after the famine's conclusion.

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            Yesterday we discussed the halakha introduced in Masekhet Ta'anit (11a) – as cited by Rashi, in his commentary to Parashat Miketz (41:50) – forbidding marital relations during a period of famine.  The Gemara arrives at this conclusion based on a verse in Parashat Miketz (ibid.) which emphasizes that Yosef's two sons were born specifically before the onset of the famine that struck Egypt.  This emphasis, the Gemara explains, indicates that Yosef would not have begotten children during the years of famine, since marital relations are forbidden during such periods.  As we mentioned yesterday, the Gemara makes an exception for people who have yet to beget children; they are indeed allowed to continue normal marital life even during periods of drought.  This provision, as we discussed, gave rise to some discussion regarding the fact that Yosef had yet to fulfill the mitzva of peru u-revu (procreation), which requires begetting both a son and a daughter.  He had begotten only two sons, but no daughters.  Seemingly, then, Yosef should have been allowed to continue normal marital life even after the onset of the years of famine, contrary to the Gemara's inference from this verse.

            Today we will look at some other answers that have been suggested for this question.

            The Da'at Zekeinim Mi-Ba'alei Ha-Tosefot answers based on the debate in Masekhet Yevamot (61b) as to how many children one must beget to fulfill the mitzva of procreation.  Yosef possibly followed the minority view that the birth of two sons suffices for the fulfillment of this obligation, and he was therefore required to separate from his wife during the famine years.  Interestingly, the Da'at Zekeinim suggests that Levi, who, as we discussed later, is said to have had a daughter born to him in the second year of famine, followed the accepted view, requiring both a son and a daughter, and was therefore allowed to engage in relations during the famine.

            The Maharal of Prague, in his Gur Aryeh, suggests that this provision, permitting people without children to engage in marital relations during periods of famine, did not apply in Yosef's case.  Yosef had advanced knowledge of the famine's duration, having predicted Pharoah's dream as an indication of seven years of hunger.  The Maharal contends that since Yosef knew that the famine would end in a matter of a few years, he was not permitted to maintain marital relations, despite the fact that he had yet to father a daughter.  The Levush Ha-ora objects to the Maharal's theory, arguing, "Even if the famine's duration is fixed, is the duration of a person's life therefore fixed, that he will live until the end of the famine?  Maybe he will die before the famine ends, and will thus die without fulfilling peru u-revu!"  The Maharal suggests a second answer, as well, namely, that a childless person begetting children during years of famine – though technically permissible – would leave a sort of insulting stamp on the children.  Once again, the Levush Ha-ora dismisses this notion, arguing that there should be no such insult if relations during this period are permitted for people who have yet to fulfill their obligation of peru u-revu.

            Others, including the Levush Ha-ora, suggest that Yosef indeed may have had a daughter.  The Beit Yosef (O.C. 774) raised and immediately rejected this possibility, arguing that had Yosef had a daughter, she should have been included in the list of the seventy members of Yaakov's family in Parashat Vayigash (chapter 46).  Others, however, uphold this theory.  The Levush Ha-ora speculates that Yosef may have had a daughter before the onset of the famine, but she then died before Yaakov's descent to Egypt, and was therefore not listed in the record of Yaakov's family members who left Canaan and came to Egypt.  The Ben Ish Chai, in his Ben Yehoyada (Masekhet Ta'anit), suggests that just as the Midrash claims that all Yaakov's sons were born with twin sisters (see Rashi, 37:35), and yet they are omitted from the record in Parashat Vayigash, so may have Yosef had a daughter whom the Torah never mentions.

            Interestingly enough, the Shevut Yaakov (3:30) cites possible proof for this theory – that Yosef had a daughter – from a Midrash cited in Rashi's commentary to Parashat Vayigash (44:19).  According to the Midrash, Yehuda confronted the Egyptian viceroy (whom he had yet to discover was Yosef) and asked why he interrogated the brothers upon their arrival in Egypt to purchase grain: "Why did you have to ask us all this – were we asking for your daughter?!"  This question might suggest that Yosef indeed had a daughter.

            The Levush Ha-ora suggested a different answer, as well, claiming that Yosef was aware through prophetic insight that he would not father any children after the birth of his two sons.  Therefore, even though he had yet to father a daughter, it was forbidden for him to engage in relations during the years of famine.

            Finally, the Taz (O.C. 574:2) claimed that the Gemara did not suspend the prohibition against relations during famine for anyone who has yet to fulfill the mitzva of peru u-revu.  The Gemara permitted relations only for chasukhei banim – people who are "childless."  Quite possibly, then, once a person has even a single child he is bound by this prohibition.  Yosef was therefore forbidden from engaging in relations despite the fact that he had no daughters.

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            A famous passage in the Midrash (Bereishit Rabba 2) describes that during the period of Greek persecution in Eretz Yisrael, the Greek empire ordered the Jews of the time to "inscribe on the horns of the ox: We have no share in the God of Israel."  While it is clear that the Midrash refers to the Greeks' efforts to put an end to Jewish practice through legislation, this unusual expression – "Inscribe on the horns of the ox" – requires some explanation; indeed, many suggestions have been offered by various writers throughout the centuries.

            Rav Yehuda Gershuni, in Sha'arei Tzedek, explained that oxen's horns are often used as a symbolic image of power and sovereignty.  Moshe, in his blessing to the tribes of Yosef before death, foresees, "karnei re'eim karnav" – these tribes' "horns" would resemble the horns of a wild ox (Devarim 33:17).  This clearly refers to military might and dominion.  Similarly, towards the end of Sefer Melakhim I (22:11), we read that the false prophet Tzidkiya Ben Kena'ana took an iron image of horns and broke it in the presence of the kings of Yehuda and Israel (Yehoshafat and Achav) to symbolize Israel's victory over Aram that he (falsely and wrongly) predicted.  With this mind, Rav Gershuni suggested, we can perhaps explain the Midrash's intent in its description of the Greeks' campaign against the Jews.  The Greek empire, he claims, offered the Jews sovereignty and political freedom.  They were prepared to allow the Jews to retain their "oxen's horns," their power and self-rule, provided that they relinquish their spiritual heritage.  In this vein, Rav Gershuni distinguishes between the Greek empire and other nations who persecuted the Jewish people.  The Babylonians, for example, in direct contrast to the Greeks, were interested only in conquering Benei Yisrael.  Once the Jews were exiled to Babylonia, they were given full religious freedom and civil rights; the Babylonians sought to control the Jews, but not to strip them of their heritage.  And the Persians, of course, during the time of Haman, sought to destroy the Jewish people altogether.  The Greeks, however, were ready to allow the Jews to retain their sovereignty, but refused to allow them to retain their religious beliefs and practices.

            The Chanukah story thus marks the Jews' refusal to resign themselves to simply a normal form of national existence.  They would not accept any arrangement that entailed forsaking the Torah, regardless of the benefits and privileges it guaranteed.  The festival of Chanukah, in this sense, celebrates – and reminds us of – the centrality of Torah and mitzvot within our national identity, as we recall the heroism and determination of those who refused to accept the benefits of the "oxen's horns" at the expense of "the God of Israel."

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In the Al Ha-nissim paragraph inserted in our shemona esrei prayer during Chanukah, we describe the events of Chanukah as having occurred "bi-y'mei Matityahu ben Yochanan kohen gadol Chashmonai u-vanav" ("in the time of Matityahu, son of Yochahan, the high priest, Chashmonai, and his sons").  This text follows the version in the siddur of Rabbenu Sa'adya Gaon, and this is indeed the position of several Rishonim, including the Orchot Chayim (cited by Beit Yosef, O.C. 682) and Avudraham. 

In Masekhet Sofrim (20:1), however, as well as in the siddur of Rav Amram Gaon, an extra letter vav appears in the text, such that it reads, "bi-y'mei Matityahu ben Yochanan kohen gadol U-Chashmonai u-vanav" ("AND Chashmonai and his sons").  According to this verse, the term Chashmonai ("Hasmonean") refers not to Matityahu or his father, Yochanan, but rather to some other figure, presumably a different leader of the Jews' revolt against Greek rule.  This is also the Gemara's implication in Masekhet Megila (11a), which tells that during the time of the Greeks God delivered the Jews through the leadership of "Shimon Ha-tzadik, and Chashmonai and his sons, and Matityahu Kohen Gadol."  The term Chashmonai is thus the name of not the priestly family of Matityahu, but rather some other prominent leader during this time.

The Orchot Chayim, in championing the prevalent text, writes that Chashmonai indeed refers to Yochahan, the father of Matityahu, and thus the vav should be omitted.  As for the origin of the name Chashmonai, the Orchot Chayim claims that Josephus identified Yochanan by this name.  The Orchot Chayim then cites a theory that Yochanan was given this title based on a verse in Sefer Tehillim (68:32), "Ye'etayu chashmanim," where the word chashmanim denotes strength and prominence.  (If, indeed, the title Chashmonaim originates from the Hebrew word chashmanim, then the word chashmanim used in the Ma'oz Tzur poem is not a corruption of the word Chashmona'im implemented for purposes of rhyme, but rather the authentic term.)  Another possibility appears in the siddur Avodat Yisrael, which suggested that the Chashmonai family came from the town Chashmon mentioned in the Book of Yehoshua.

The Orchot Chayim does not cite a Talmudic source for his position, that Chashmonai refers to Yochanan, and not to some other figure in the Chanukah story.  As mentioned, both Masekhet Sofrim and the Gemara in Masekhet Megila appear to indicate otherwise.  The Orchot Chayim most likely followed a variant text of the Gemara in Megila, which appears in the Semag, in Hilkhot Chanukah, and reads, "I assigned to them Shimon Ha-tzadik and Matitya ben Yochanan the high priest, Chashmonai, and his sons."  The prevalent text of Al Ha-nissim seems to have been based on this citation of the Gemara in the Semag, and this was very likely the Orchot Chayim's source.

(Taken from Rav Menachem Adler's work Chashmonai U-vanav, which elaborates on this topic in much greater detail)

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            Towards the end of the Al Ha-nisim paragraph inserted in our prayer service and birkat ha-mazon during Chanukah, we declare, "u-le-amekha Yisrael asita teshu'a gedola u-furkan ke-ha-yom ha-zeh" – "and for Your nation Israel You brought great salvation and redemption, as on this day."  How might we explain the final words of this passage – ke-ha-yom ha-zeh ("as on this day")?

            The Chatam Sofer suggested an explanation in light of an interpretation offered in the Gemara to a similar phrase in the Torah.  In Parashat Nitzavim, Moshe warns Benei Yisrael of the exile they would suffer if they breach their covenant with God, foreseeing that God will drive them into a different land "ka-yom ha-zeh."  Rabbi Eliezer, as cited in Masekhet Sanhedrin (110b), understands this verse as a reference to the ten lost tribes of Israel.  He explains, "[God will drive the tribes into exile] like this day: just as a day grows dark and then shines [once again], so, too, the ten tribes, for whom it is dark – it will be bright for them in the future."  In other words, the term ka-yom ha-zeh denotes a temporary situation, just as the darkening of the sky in the evening hours heralds but a temporary period of darkness, that ultimately gives way to radiant sunshine the following morning.

            The Chatam Sofer applied this interpretation of ka-yom ha-zeh in converse fashion to Al Ha-nisim.  The Jews at the time of the Chanukah story understood that their victory was but ke-ha-yom ha-zeh – a temporary salvation.  No complete redemption is possible without the restoration of the Davidic royal dynasty.  In this vein the Chatam Sofer explains the subsequent passage in Al Ha-nisim, which tells of the Chashmonaim's efforts in cleansing the Temple, which is often understood as reflective of a broader campaign of religious renewal.  Realizing that their recent victory was only temporary, the leaders of the time did not sit on their laurels and allow the redemptive process to take its course.  Rather, they focused their energies on solidifying the religious renewal that had begun to take shape to ensure its lasting impact upon the Jewish people.  This might also explain the final sentence in Al Ha-nisim, which tells of the institution of the Chanukah festival.  The realization of the temporary nature of the victory over the Greeks may have contributed to the decision to establish a permanent holiday.  Knowing that their newly gained freedom would not necessarily endure, the Chashmonaim wanted subsequent generations to remember the dramatic events of that period, to provide them with hope and encouragement when darker times set in.