Do you know those moments when you can just feel a certain connection with someone without even trying? Sometimes a mutual understanding or recognition doesn’t need explaining. Maybe your pupils dilate a little. The conversation has more excitement to it. You feel at ease, as if there’s a strong, but effortless force pulling you together. Sometimes it’s a matter of being in the right place at the right time, but there’s no denying the effect on your body and soul.

We actually see this play out several times in our Torah, a connection between people based on mutual respect and understanding. Our parshah this week, Miketz, brings us back into the story of Joseph. We pick up in part two of the life and trying times of Joseph. Our hero has had a few setbacks, among them being sold into slavery by his brothers and thrown into jail. However, Joseph gets his big break when Pharaoh has a startling set of dreams. When none of Pharaoh’s resident magicians are able to interpret his visions, Pharaoh calls on Joseph, and with God’s help, Joseph translates the dreams as a sign of an approaching period of fertility followed by a period of famine. Joseph presents Pharaoh with a game plan and becomes Pharaoh’s right-hand man in preparation for these times that will certainly be difficult not only for Egypt but also for neighboring lands. 

When Joseph and his brothers later reconnect, on the surface the recognition is presented as one-sided. Joesph knows that he is looking at his own brothers, but apparently, they do not recognize him. Except, maybe somewhere deep inside, they do. The brothers say, “We are all of us, sons of the same man.” The straightforward interpretation is that they are speaking about themselves, the brothers who have come down to ask for food, with no recognition of Joseph yet. However, another translation of the Hebrew could read, “You and we have the same father.” The ambiguity leaves room to ask: did they know without knowing? Did their hair stand on edge suddenly when seeing their brother, but their minds told them it couldn’t be? 

When Joseph recognizes his brothers, he has an ulterior motive for not quite identifying himself yet. The brothers, however, seem to have felt something – a kinship that let them continue the conversation instead of being intimidated and turning away. 

Just because we as humans have the power of rational thought doesn’t mean we should abandon our instincts. Sometimes it’s those deeply rooted feelings that provide us with the direction we need in the moment. 

I get hangry. If you’ve spent time with me, especially on a trip, then you’ll know that when my blood sugar dips, I get mean and grumpy until I’m able to grab a snack or sit down to a meal. Needless to say, this is not my own invention; I know plenty of people who tend to get hangry, namely my own children. When they haven’t had a solid meal in a few hours, their faces get scrunched, and the screaming begins. A well-timed snack can make the difference between an easy, fun day and an endless cycle of tantrums. It doesn’t matter what age we are, it’s important to be in tune enough with our bodies to recognize basic needs.

For better or worse, we seem to perpetuate the stereotype that Jewish mothers have a constant desire to feed people. However, you could make the case that issues of hunger, anger, and some combination of the two are as old as the Torah. In fact, hunger leads to trouble again in this week’s Torah portion. 

Our parshah this week, Miketz, brings us back into the story of Joseph. We pick up in part two of the life and trying times of Jacob’s favorite son. Our hero has had a few setbacks, among them being sold into slavery by his brothers and thrown into jail. However, Joseph gets his big break when Pharaoh has a startling set of dreams. When none of Pharaoh’s resident magicians are able to interpret his visions, Pharaoh calls on Joseph, and with God’s help, Joseph translates the dreams as a sign of an approaching period of fertility, followed by a period of famine. Joseph presents Pharaoh with a game plan and becomes Pharaoh’s right-hand man in preparation for these times that will certainly be difficult not only for Egypt, but also neighboring lands. 

Throughout the Torah, the Israelite nation has been moved from place to place, almost always going down to Egypt on account of famine. Jacob’s grandfather Abraham goes to Egypt because of a famine, and his father Isaac does the same. Now Jacob looks around and notices that there is famine in Israel, while Egypt has food. As a side note, the other times Israelites go to Egypt to get land almost always end in lying for protection. Abraham lies in saying that Sarah is his sister, and Isaac crafts a similar deception. Jacob is really the first to try and break this pattern.

Back to the subject of food, Jacob knows there is abundance in Egypt. He’s sad and hungry (sadry?) because he’s lost both his favorite son and favorite wife, and he just wants his people fed and taken care of. This time, he sends ten of his sons to Egypt to find food to bring back. There’s deception on this journey too, but interestingly, the deception is not from an Israelite to an Egyptian, but instead from an Israelite (Joseph) to his own brothers. 

Joseph recognizes his siblings instantly and gets plain old angry; he’s harsh in his speech and treats them like strangers. Joseph isn’t hungry because he’s already solved the problem of famine for Egypt. His pure anger comes from the original deception perpetrated by his brothers years earlier. Instead of food, Joseph hungers for connection, for reconciliation with his family. And his brothers are desperate in their quest to do something right for their father, possibly to try to make up for the grief they caused long ago.

When our needs aren’t met, we can’t be at our best, and often our emotional needs like family connections are just as important as physical needs like hunger. Parshat Miketz is a yearly reminder that we’re all searching for something to sustain us, and when we’re able to open our eyes and see the root of the desire, we’re much more likely to put aside anger and deception in favor of love and acceptance. 

I am generally over prepared. I can’t help myself. I always have a full backup battery for my phone, shoes in my car for any change in weather, replacement lovies for my kiddos, and a variety of snacks in my office should anyone need them (not that there’s anyone in my office these days). When I travel I overpack because I just want to have something for every possible occasion, and when I’m hosting a meal, I always try to have backup options should something go wrong.

There are things you can store up besides emergency supplies and other tangible goods. For example, there is real science behind storing up faith and gratitude. Mental health experts suggest creating a daily gratitude journal, the idea being that if you write down a few things you’re grateful for each day, you’ll be able to look back on it when things aren’t so great and be reminded of all the good that’s come your way.

Parshat Miketz, which we read this week, reminds us of the importance of literally planning ahead and in doing so, restoring our faith. Joseph solves Pharaoh’s dreams and becomes a great leader in Egypt. He then marries and has sons named Ephraim and Menashe, and the land endures the seven years of plenty and seven years of famine. During the famine Joseph’s brothers come to Egypt in search of food, and Joseph recognizes them, but they have no clue who he is. Joseph tests the brothers and asks for his younger brother Benjamin to be brought to him. 

The dreams that Pharaoh shares are dreams which illustrate the concern of not having enough in your stores to provide in a time of need. But there’s more to it than grain silos. The 19th century Torah scholar the Sfat Emet (the name of his monumental commentary, which also refers to the rabbi himself) asks, “What can be learned from this parshah to prepare ourselves in good days, days in which holiness is revealed, to set the light in our hearts, to be there in times when holiness seems far off?” He answers: “We must store up resources of faith, even as the Egyptians stored grain, to nourish us spiritually when events turn against us.”

Parshat Miketz is read around Hanukkah, a time in the year when we have less light and more darkness. And what could be a more appropriate lesson during a pandemic than the lesson of storing up gratitude? Savor the recent memory of the Hanukkah candles. Store your moments of light, of gratitude, because you never know when you’ll need to tap into them.

There are certain memories that I not only hold on to, but ones I sometimes feel hold me back. The broken heart after the end of my first true love left me afraid to trust and love again for some time. The feeling of failure when I didn’t get into a school I had my heart set on held me back from going for my dreams for several years after. One of the hardest lessons to learn is how to let go, and it’s something I’m still working on. Part of it might be my hyperactive memory, but I tend to hold on to grudges and remember not just what someone did but also how they made me feel. Sometimes those residual feelings we remember hold us back from healing, which makes it that much more difficult to move forward.

We see memory play a large role in the lives of our biblical leaders. So much of how they react in specific situations hinges upon what has happened to them in the past and how they have held on or let go of that experience. 

Our parshah this week, Miketz, brings us back into the story of Joseph. We pick up in part two of the life and trying times of Joseph. Our hero has had a few setbacks, among them being sold into slavery by his brothers and thrown into jail. However, Joseph gets his big break when Pharaoh has a startling set of dreams. When none of Pharaoh’s resident magicians are able to interpret his visions, Pharaoh calls on Joseph, and with God’s help, Joseph translates the dreams as a sign of an approaching period of fertility followed by a period of famine. Joseph presents Pharaoh with a game plan and becomes Pharaoh’s right-hand man in preparation for these times that will certainly be difficult not only for Egypt, but also neighboring lands. 

In the midst of his time in Egypt, Joseph gets married, and he has two children, Efraim and Manasseh. The descriptions of their names comes in chapter 41, verses 50-52: “Before the years of famine came, Joseph became the father of two sons, whom Asenath, daughter of Poti-phera, priest of On, bore to him. Joseph named the first-born Manasseh, meaning, ‘God has made me forget completely my hardship and my parental home.’ And the second he named Ephraim, meaning, ‘God has made me fertile in the land of my affliction.’”

The name of his first son, Manasseh, might seem strange, considering that he clearly did not forget the hardship of his parental home, which we see when he meets his brothers again in the next parshah. Instead, perhaps he is saying that while he remembers, the memory no longer oppresses him. In other words, Joseph has taken the lesson of his family hardship and learned from it so that he could move forward. He hasn’t forgotten the events, but he has put aside enough of the feeling of those events to move on.

Joseph reminds us that even when we live through the unimaginable, we have the ability to grow from it. On the other hand, when we let our memories oppress us, we’re letting the perpetrators win. Instead, sometimes we have to find the will to free ourselves from the part of the memory that’s holding us back and the wisdom to be aware of it in the first place. 

Why is it that some people in leadership positions feel they succeed only when others are held back? Whether it’s a boss, a politician, an athlete, or even a family member, we’ve all known someone who felt it was their job to push people down rather than lift them up. Why do people engage in smack talk or bullying in order to make their case or keep others quiet? Why are intimidation and fear of backlash used to keep victims of abuse and harassment silent? Thankfully the Me Too movement has shed at least some light on this pervasive issue. Of course it hasn’t wiped it out altogether, but the pushed around are starting to push back. Today we are seeing that it’s not only the powerful who have a voice, and it’s not only the ones with the loudest voices who hold the power.

The idea of the powerful remaining in control by holding back or oppressing the less powerful out of fear that they might be overthrown is not a new phenomenon, nor one that should surprise us. In Parshat Miketz, the reading we’ll have from the Torah this week, we see a similar fear, manifested in a couple of ways. But in the case of the Torah portion, the fear is channeled productively to everyone’s benefit.

To recap, Joseph solves Pharaoh’s dreams and becomes a great leader in Egypt. He then marries and has two sons named Ephraim and Menashe, and the land endures the seven years of plenty and seven years of famine. During the famine Joseph’s brothers come to Egypt in search of food, and Joseph recognizes them, but they have no clue who he is. Joseph tests the brothers and asks for his younger brother to be brought to him. Then when no food remains in Jacob’s house in Israel, Benjamin is brought back down to Egypt and again Joseph interacts with his brothers.

At the outset, Joseph is interpreting Pharaoh’s dreams. One dream features fat, prominent, powerful cows being devoured by weak, skinny, meek cows. Imagine being in Pharaoh’s position and dreaming that you, the tyrannical, powerful leader might be overthrown by a body of people you see as “less than.” But instead of using his fear as an excuse to oppress his subjects, Pharaoh uses Joseph’s subsequent interpretations to focus on the famine and formulate a plan to survive.

This seems remarkable for someone in Pharaoh’s position. Consider the potential threat of Joseph himself. Had Pharaoh let fear of an overthrow prevail, he might not have been open to Joseph’s help, possibly fearing Joseph would be the one to overthrow him. However, this Pharaoh was able to look past his fear and doubt to the knowledge to be gained. Instead of oppressing Joseph or holding him back, he welcomed his guidance, which would prove invaluable. The next Pharaoh could have learned a thing or two from his predecessor on how to treat those who are “other.”

Parshat Miketz reminds us that every leader, no matter how powerful or steadfast, has moments of doubt. It’s up to the leader to recognize those moments to learn and grow and continue their success.