The Dreamer They Couldn't Recognize

12/15/23

I'm currently reading Walter Isaacson's biography of Benjamin Franklin. "Currently," because, as with all of his books, their great content is only rivaled by their lengthy pages.

Isaacson refers to Benjamin Franklin as "the founding father who winks at us, the one who seems made of flesh rather than marble."

While figures like George Washington and Thomas Jefferson are often depicted as solemn and statesmanlike, Franklin, claims Isaacson, is a founding father whose life can be more relatable and in whose reflection we can find ourselves.

Reading this got me thinking about our Jewish founding fathers, whom we've been reading about these last months and continue to explore this week.

While Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob each personified qualities and virtues that guide the Jewish people to this day--hence why they are called patriarchs--, they can seem somewhat distant and removed.

Abraham's struggles with idols, sacrificing his son, Isaac's digging of wells, and Jacob's fighting with angels all hold powerful lessons, but it is Joseph's story of sibling rivalry, high ambitions, struggling with temptations, and ultimately rising to achieve his dreams that might resonate more.

Like Isaacson says about Franklin, Joseph, the protagonist of this week's parsha, is Judaism's founding father who "winks at us" and seems "made of flesh rather than marble."

In a remarkable turn of events, this week's Torah portion tells how Joseph, now serving as Egypt's second in command, is greeted by his brothers who came to Egypt to beg for food during a famine that struck them in Canaan, present-day Israel.

It's been 20 years since they last saw Joseph. Their last encounter was when they threw him into a pit, following his dreams that he would one day rise to power. They didn't believe that Joseph had royalty in him, and they resented him for his dreams.

But this week, we read how Joseph's dreams do, in fact, come true, and his brothers come to Egypt and bow before him.

"Joseph recognized his brothers, but they did not recognize him," says the verse.

Rashi, quoting from the Talmud, explains that Joseph had left as a young lad and had since grown a beard, so they didn't recognize him. The brothers, however, were already grown men when Joseph left, so their appearance hadn't changed much. Therefore, Joseph recognized them, but they didn't recognize him.

But perhaps there's a deeper, or more personal, meaning and interpretation here. One that captures Joseph's "wink" and makes him all the more relatable.

Joseph was a young man with big dreams, high aspirations, and passionate ambitions. But also someone whom everybody doubted.

When Jacob first related his dreams to his family, the Torah says, "his brothers hated him" for it; they didn't believe he had the capabilities he claimed to have. But Jacob, says the verse, "Shamar et hadavar." Jacob had faith in his son's dreams and patiently awaited their coming to fruition.

A good leader is someone who can identify potential within a young lad and let them charge forward and blossom with the knowledge that people believe in them.

Too often, however, we might act like Joseph's brothers. We doubt other people's capabilities, question their potential, and are jealous of their dreams.

This may be a deeper meaning of why "They did not recognize him." Maybe the brothers didn't recognize Joseph because they couldn't believe it was him—the one whose dreams they doubted and whose potential they undermined. It was inconceivable to them that the Joseph they knew as a child was now the ruler of Egypt. They couldn't recognize him.

Joseph's life, "one made of flesh rather than marble," seems relatable in more ways than one. But what stands out this week is the story of a young dreamer who was not seen for his true potential but ultimately trusted in himself and achieved his aspirations.

So, if there's something to take away from this week's parsha, maybe it's to be better at believing in other people. To have faith that people can rise to the occasion and be the best version of themselves as only they know they can.

Placing our trust in someone who seems small today might make the world better tomorrow.

If history rhymes, it may even feed us during a famine.