Coincidence, Angel or Miracle
This week's Dvar Torah seems to have found me coincidentally... or at least, these specific verses appeared right in front of me at just the right time. I was assigned a Torah reading to learn for tomorrow's Shabbat Morning Minyan, which means that all week I've literally been staring at the same short section of lines, noticing their language and growing curious about them.
Parashat Vayeshev opens at the very beginning of the Joseph story. At the outset of this Torah portion, we learn that Joseph was the most beloved of his father's children and given a special coat as a gift, and see how he recounts his dreams to his brothers in a way that induces anger and jealousy in them. Then, Joseph's father, Israel/Jacob, sends him to go find his brothers who are out pasturing flocks. Here's what the text actually says about the events that unfold in this brief episode (Gen. 37:14-17):
"When he [Joseph] reached Shechem, a man came upon him wandering in the fields. The man asked him, 'What are you looking for?' He answered, 'I am looking for my brothers. Could you tell me where they are pasturing?' The man said, 'They have gone from here, for I heard them say: Let us go to Dothan.' So Joseph followed his brothers and found them in Dotan."
As you may have noticed in this passage, the "man" (Hebrew: "ish") who came upon Joseph in the fields is unnamed and anonymous. He is simply someone who appears in the right place at exactly the right time, and his presence becomes a critical domino in this saga of cascading events. If Joseph hadn't found his brothers in Dotan, they never would have sold him into slavery in Egypt. If Joseph hadn't been sold into slavery in Egypt, he would not have saved his entire family and set into motion the chain of events leading to the Exodus and all of Jewish history. In other words, we owe everything about our identity to this stranger-in-the-field.
Furthermore, you also may have noticed that the interaction between the man and Joseph is a strange one. Joseph never asks for help, never introduces himself, never even describes to this stranger how many brothers he has or what they look like. Traditional Torah commentators have also picked up on these details in the text. Regarding verse 15 above, Rashi (writing in 11th century France) cites two ancient midrashim as proof that the phrase "the man" must refer to the angel Gabriel (click here to see Rashi's comment and those midrashic references). Siftei Chachamim (a 17th century Dutch super-commentary on Rashi) builds upon this idea, noting that "the man" clearly knows too much to be anything other than an angelic being:
"This refers to Gavriel..." Yosef did not say to the man, “Do you know my brothers, and where they are pasturing?” Rather, he said [straight away], “Tell me please, where are they pasturing?” This shows it was an angel, [who assumedly knows]..." (click here to view the whole comment).
I am struck this week by how powerful a tendency it is -- and also, how normal a human experience it is -- to ascribe deeper spiritual meaning to seemingly ordinary or random events. Throughout the centuries, a long line of Jewish tradition supports us in reading this man who appeared in the field just when Joseph needed support as an angel: a being sent by God specifically to guide him to the place where he will find his brothers. Reading the text this way instantly transforms the Joseph narrative from a soap opera-ish human drama to a sacred story about God's hidden presence in the world.
Perhaps it's not a coincidence either, then that Parashat Vayeshev is always read on either the first Shabbat of Chanukah or on the Shabbat immediately preceding Chanukah (as is the case this year). When it comes to Chanukah, this same tendency is front and center! The book of Maccabees records the story of Mattathias and his son Judah who led a rebellion against the Seleucid Empire. Because this rag-tag band of Jewish rebels were so much the underdog, our tradition has long ascribed their military victory as a miracle, and as evidence of God's hand in history. The rabbis of the Talmud extend the miracle theme, spinning a second tale -- the famous one about the cruse of oil that was only expected to last a single day, but instead lasted eight, thus enabling the rededication of the temple (chanukat ha-bayit). Whether we're focusing on the military victory or the story of the oil, Chanukah thus becomes a holiday all about miracles!
I've always had some trouble wrapping my head around utterly supernatural miracles (the kinds that truly seem to fly in the face of the laws of nature), but, I quite love the idea that as Jews, we are primed to see the events that unfold in our lives as evidence of the Divine presence. Perhaps you can think of specific moments from your own life that fit this bill? Maybe, as with Joseph, an unnamed stranger once appeared in just the right place at just the right moment to point you in the direction you needed to go, or maybe in some small moment, a disaster was averted, you saw a "sign," or someone said exactly the words you needed to hear. Who is to say that what happened to you wasn't a miracle, or God's hand, or the angel Gabriel fulfilling a mission in the world?!
On this Shabbat of Parashat Vayeshev, may we find ourselves able to notice the unnamed characters who linger at the edge of our stories, and able to view our lives through miracle-colored glasses. With spiritual openness to the possibility of God's presence in our lives, may we find ourselves pointed in precisely the directions we need to head, in order to bring light into the world and fulfill our destinies.
Shabbat Shalom for today, and wishing you all a happy and miracle-filled Chanukah (beginning Sunday evening),
Rabbi Rachel Nussbaum
