Parsha_Push Parshat Miketz

Experiences in each new era provide additional lenses through which we can examine the stories in the Torah. Last year, for the first time, I asked myself why Jacob was unwilling to send Benjamin to free Shimon from captivity. What about the important value of redeeming captives, or that of a father’s love for his son?

Different interpretations emerge from the commentators. Some suggested that Jacob “favors the son of the beloved wife” (Shadal). And since he’s unwilling to risk Benjamin, he “comes to terms” with losing Shimon first with the statement “Joseph is no more and Shimon is no more,” and later when he no longer wants or is able to utter Shimon’s name, saying instead “may he send your other brother.” The choice not to risk Benjamin contains within it the choice to emotionally detach from Shimon.

Others suggested that Jacob gives up on Shimon “the son of the hated wife,” because of his actions in the Shechem story (Ramban). One could suggest that Jacob wasn’t sure whether Shimon hadn’t provoked the Egyptian ruler’s anger through insolence or misplaced anger, and wasn’t willing to risk an innocent son for someone who might be responsible for his own situation. Jacob’s inability to say Shimon’s name might be an expression of emotional detachment that didn’t come from the captivity itself, but preceded it.

Others suggested that Jacob already believed that Shimon truly “was no more.” How much can one trust a totalitarian Egyptian regime? One that makes false accusations, imprisons innocent people, and as we’ll later discover, plants evidence to achieve its goals. In a prayer he didn’t dare speak aloud, he hoped that man would send “your other brother” but couldn’t let this wish dictate his actions. On the contrary, his observation of reality taught him that he repeatedly risks his children in vain, and he shouldn’t take such a risk again (Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, Malbim).

But Rashi has a different explanation. He suggests that Jacob suspected the brothers of killing Shimon. It wasn’t the risk or preference for one brother that deterred him, nor distrust in the Egyptian ruler, but rather his distrust in his own sons. Rav Yoel Bin-Nun suggested that Joseph didn’t send word to his father that he was alive because he believed that within the selection process in the patriarchal family, his father had sent him to be the one rejected from the family. But perhaps Jacob thought similarly about the brothers, that they were trying – slowly, slowly, one by one, like in some Agatha Christie thriller – to separate the wheat from the chaff. And in such a case of great distrust between father and sons, the correction would come when Judah takes responsibility – when he personally guarantees the safety of the youth and he seemingly gives up his position to protect the youngest son and brother and keep him safe. This moment is the beginning of healing. Only when Jacob reunites with both Benjamin and Joseph will he be able to rest and perhaps begin to trust his sons.

There are many questions in our time regarding the release of captives – do we risk one life for another? Does anyone care about the identity of those in captivity? Do we have any trust in the captors and their humanity, and what do we do when we don’t? And perhaps the most significant question of our time is whether there is trust amongst us? And if there isn’t – how do we rebuild it? How do we return to feeling brotherhood and mutual responsibility, how do we return to believing in “you are honest men”? And what is each person’s responsibility within this story?