Three Dreams, One Destiny

 

“Joseph was the great dreamer of the Torah, and his dreams for the most part came true. But not in a way he or anyone else could have anticipated.” - Rabbi Lord  Jonathan Sacks

Dreams are one of the main themes in recent Parashot. Parashat Vayetze narrates Yaakov's dream at Bet-El. This week’s Parashat Vayeshev, recounts two dreams experienced by Yoseph, Yaakov’s favourite son. Before delving further into the significance of these dreams and the connection between them, it is important to understand them in the context of the time and place in which they occurred.

Dreams, in general, have held a consistent and powerful place in human civilization—from politics and prophecy to psychology and art. Across cultures and eras, they were rarely seen as random inner noise; rather, they were treated as messages, omens, or revelations that could redirect nations and reshape lives.

In the Ancient Near East, the cradle of Jewish civilization, dreams were commonly understood as royal legitimation. Mesopotamian rulers recorded nocturnal visions as proof of divine endorsement, elevating the king to semi-divine status and rendering political authority sacred. Egyptian dream manuals, discovered in the Chester Beatty Papyrus, treated dreams as coded celestial messages decipherable by specialists of the court. Their purpose was not moral formation but statecraft, empire stability, and royal self-preservation. 

Against this backdrop, the dreams of Yaakov and Yoseph invert the entire cultural logic. Unlike Ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia where dreams enthroned power, in the Torah, dreams serve a purpose. While the ancient world used dreams to elevate man to the gods, the Torah uses dreams to anchor man to G-d. (John Walton, Ancient Near Eastern Thought and the Old Testament, 2006).

Yaakov does not become king by dreaming, nor does Yoseph become divine by interpretation. Instead, their dreams deepen covenantal obligation. We encounter their dreams which, in the words of Sacks, “came true,” yet “not in a way, the dreamers themselves, or anyone else could have anticipated.” (Covenant and Conversation Studies in Spirituality, Mikketz).

The dream that greets Yaakov at Bet-El and the two dreams that shape Yoseph’s destiny, according to some Jewish scholars, are not isolated mystical events but stages of a single unfolding covenant.

Though scholars such as, Rash"i and Sforno do not explicitly connect the dream narratives of father and son (Yaakov’s ladder in Bresheet 28:12-15) and Yoseph’s dreams of the sheaves bowing, in Bresheet 37:7 and the celestial bodies submitting, in 37:9), in any explicit comment, they create a conceptual bridge, indirectly, through one key motif, movement from revelation of choseness to its realization. Yaakov’s vision of the ladder reveals a cosmos in which heaven descends to earth, affirming divine presence, protection, and promise. The sheaves and the celestial bodies, in Yoseph’s dreams, mark not only his personal ascent but the historical movement of Yisrael into exile and eventual redemption. Yaakov dreams of Divine protection “I am with you, I will protect you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land… (Bresheet 28:15).” Yoseph’s dreams set in motion the events that fulfill that protection, physical, economical and spiritual. Yaakov dreams the Covenant, Yoseph dreams its implementation in human history. 

The one place, however, where Rash”i comes close to implicitly linking Yoseph’s dreams to his father’s own ladder experience is found in chapter 37. There (37:11) Yoseph tells his dream to his father. Rash”i notes that Yaakov “guards the matter.” Rash”i  bases his assertion on Midrash Bresheet Rabbah 84:12 which interprets this verse as, “Yaakov waits expectancy to see its fulfillment. In other words, Yaakov who once dreamed of his destiny recognizes a true dream when one is narrated.

Some modern scholars such as Robert Alter (The Art of Biblical Narrative,1981) explicitly connect Yaakov’s dream to Yoseph’s two dreams in our Parashah. He refers to Yaakov’s dream as a vision of space and speaks of a  (spiritual → earthly). Yoseph’s dreams, on the other hand, are a “horizontal axis of human power and family structure” strewn with socio-political symbolism (Yisrael → Nations).

Alter’s terminology is reinforced albeit implicitly, in interpretive trajectory, by Rabbi Sacks. Sacks describes Yaakov’s encounter “vayifga ba’Makom”*(Bresheet 28:11) as a moment of transcendent revelation and covenant renewal, i.e. a “vertical” moment of Divine-human communication.

In his essay, “Three Approaches to Dreams (Miketz” Covenant & Conversation), Sacks notes that in addition to the gift of dreams, the gift of their interpretation, Yoseph was also endowed with the ability to implement them, as we is evident in the next Parashah. There, Sacks sees his dreams as the start of a trajectory of political, economic and social leadership, dreams that lead to action, administration and implementation on earth (Yisrael → nations, horizontal).

The ladder at Bet-El affirms not dominion but a moral and spiritual duty. G-d descends not to enthrone Yaakov but to bind him to mission. Yoseph’s twin dreams of sheaves and stars do not coronate him in the mythic fashion of the Ancient Near East. They conscript him into service—feeding nations, sustaining his family, and ushering Israel into its first experience of exile. 

The three dreams are forged into a single symphony where destiny is spoken, first to the father, and then enacted through the son.

Shabbat Shalom and Channukah Sameach, Am Yisrael and Fellow Jews.

*“He came upon a place,” in Hebrew vayifga ba-makom, also means an unexpected encounter. Later, in rabbinic Hebrew, the word ha-Makom, “the Place,” came to mean “G-d.” Hence in a poetic way the phrase vayifga ba-makom could be read as, “Jacob happened on (had an unexpected encounter with) G-d.”  “How the Light Gets In” (in Covenant & Conversation, Parashat Vayetze)

Yaakov and the Birthright: Deception or Destiny?

 

"And the boys grew; and Esav was a cunning hunter, a man of the field; and Yaakov was a quiet man, dwelling in tents" Bresheet 25:27

Birthright (bechorah) in the Ancient Near East, the setting for our Parashah, was very important, socially, legally, economically, and religiously.  One of the privileges of the first born, as stated in legal texts and documents such as the Hammurabi Code (18th century BCE, laws 170-171) or the Nuzi Tablets (Hurrian culture, 15th century BCE), state that the firstborn son typically received a larger share of the inheritance, often a double portion. This was meant to maintain the family estate and ensure stability. Bechorah also meant assuming responsibility and family continuity. In some of the Ancient Near Eastern cultures, it meant a sacred status. Moreover, in most of these societies, the birthright was fixed by birth, and could not easily be sold, traded or taken away.

Understanding this background helps explain why the story of Esav and Yaakov in Toledot, in the context of Bechorah, is so dramatic.

A bird’s eye view of the bechorah episode, in the Parashah, shows that it is driven by acts of trickery, most notably Rivkah’s scheme to have Yaakov receive the patriarchal blessing meant for Esav, which Yitzchak grants due to his blindness. Several specific verses in Toledot clearly hint at, describe, or imply Yaakov’s deception of Yitzchak (and by extension Esav). 

The initiation of Rivkah’s plan of deception is evidenced in Bresheet 27: 6-10. There, Rivkah tells Yaakov, “I heard your father speaking to Esav… Now, my son, do as I command you.” 

Yaakov hesitates because Esav is hairy and he is smooth, “Perhaps my father will feel me, and I shall seem to him as a deceiver.” The verse explicitly uses the word, מתעתע (metaatea, “a deceiver”), acknowledging the deceptive plan. Yaakov fears being caught. 

Rivkah takes responsibility for the guilt when she responds by saying, “Upon me be your curse, my son” (27:13). Naturally, Rivkah understands the morally dangerous nature of the scheme. She disguises Yaakov, “She put the garments of Esav… on Yaakov… and placed the goat skins on his hands" (Bresheet 27:15-16).

However the most explicit hint of deception and statement of impersonation can be found in the following exchanges:

Yitzchak : “Who are you, my son?”

Yaakov : “I am Esav, your firstborn” (Bresheet 27:18-19).

Despite his condition (old age and blindness), Yitzchak gets suspicious. “How did you find it [the prey] so quickly?” he asks. Yaakov invokes G-d: “because the Lord your G-d caused it to happen,” to which Yitzchak responds, “The voice is the voice of Yaakov, but the hands are the hands of Esav” (Bresheet 27:20-22).

While Yaakov’s actions are debatable and raise a theological and ethical problem, especially in light of his eventual emergence as the father of the twelve tribes of Am Yisrael, there seems to be a silver lining in this narrative, as Rabbi Joel Mosbacher suggests. “The Torah,” he asserts, “is full of complex characters. You would think that in a sacred text, the personages would be perfect and morally pure-but the people in the Torah are far from that…. We see ourselves in their strengths and foibles, flaws and humanness. If they were perfect," concludes Mosbacher, “we could hold them as paragons but not relate to them. A parent can relate to Yitzchak and Rivkah. A sibling can relate to Yaakov and Esav. They are very human characters.” Personally, I am happy to see that our forefather was human just like us. At the same time, though, I could not fathom them engaging in illicit deeds.

This tension and the need to reconcile Yaakov’s righteousness with his deception has been discussed for over 2000 years. Jewish sages did not see Yaakov as “stealing” the Bechorah in the simple moral sense. Instead, they offered several explanations, legal, moral and spiritual, that show why Yaakov’s actions were justified or at least not a sin in the conventional sense. Here are some of these approaches.

Ramba”n and Rash”i, for instance, suggest that the verse “The older shall serve the younger,” (Bresheet 25:23) implies a Divine prophecy which Rivkah received and thus know that Yakkov is the chosen heir. According to them, Rivkah’s plan ensures that G-d’s will was fulfilled. She is planning the consummation of G-d’s plan. 

Chaza”l offer another explanation to the move by Rivkah and Yaakov. They  emphasize that since “Esav despised the birthright,” (Bresheet 25:34), treated it lightly, sold it of his free will and was unworthy of it. Midrash Tanchuma and Bava Batra 16b (which lists Esav’s sins on the day he sold his Birthright) describe Esav as impulsive, spiritually uninterested and engaging in immoral behaviour. Thus, according to them, Yaakov did not steal. He simply valued what Esav scorned.

Rash”i takes his defense of Yaakov one step further. His assertion is that Esav misrepresents himself to Yitzchak. Rash”i bases it on his interpretation of Bresheet 25:28, specifically on the Hebrew phrase “tzayid befiv” which literally means “game in his mouth” (referring to Esav’s hunting, trapping skills). Rash”i construes it as Esav using speech to manipulate Yitzchak.

It seems that to justify Yaakov and protect the moral standing of a patriarch, most sages elevate Esav’s guilt. Their portrayal of Esav provides a moral framework in which Yaakov’s act is not a betrayal but a correction of a long-standing deception.

Unlike the above-mentioned Jewish scholars, Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks does not focus on Esav’s demerits.  He takes a more psychological and ethical approach, showing how the story reflects deep truths about identity, destiny and family. Sacks asserts that Yaakov is not naturally deceptive. He notes that he is gentle, studious and responsible. His mother, Sacks believes, forces him to act like Esav to get a blessing that ironically was meant for his own true self, “This is the story," concludes Sacks, “of a young man forced to wear someone else’s clothes, hiding his true identity.” This is not theft. It is a crisis of identity.

Sacks, along with other commentators stress that the blessing Yaakov receives by deception is the material blessing. The Covenantal blessing, the Avrahamic promise, one that is meant for him is given openly, with full awareness, by Yitzchak later (Bresheet 28:3-4).

The blessing, as all sages agree, is not a personal prize. It is meant for the future of the Jewish People and the fulfillment of the covenant. Esav, as the text shows us, does not value it which leads us to the inevitable conclusion that the blessing was rightfully Yaakov’s and what he does is rightfully reclaiming what is already his. In the words of Sacks, “A birthright cannot be stolen from someone who does not value it.”

The Reciprocality of the Sinai Covenant

 

In this week’s Parashah, “Ekev,” Moshe reminds Am Yisrael that obedience to G-d’s commandments, adhering to the terms and the moral code of the Covenant, entered at Sinai,   will bring blessing, security, and prosperity. Disobedience, on the other hand, will lead to hardship and loss. He reminds Am Yisrael of the ordeals and miracles that transpired in the desert, the manna, the water and G-d’s coaching and preparing them to assume nationhood.  Moshe emphasizes gratitude and humility. He warns them against arrogance whereby they attribute their prosperity to their own strength and abilities, (“My power and the might of my hand have gotten me this wealth,” 8:17). This, he cautions, will come at the cost of losing their spirituality and faith in G-d. In other words, material abundance and depersonalization must not cause spiritual forgetfulness — Am Yisrael must remember its dependence on G-d even in times of plenty.

Moshe also reinforces the prohibition to follow the ways of other nations and the worship of foreign gods. He reproves them, again, for the sin of the “golden calf”

The name of this Parashah, “Ekev,” comes from its opening words, “Vehaya ekev tishme’un…..” “And it shall come to pass, because you will listen….” (Deuteronomy 7:12)

The word ekev, in this context, as the translation suggests, means “when it came to pass,” “because,” or “as a consequence.”  However, ekev  is derived from the Hebrew root ע,ק,ב, which, literally, means “heel.” It shares the same root as the name Ya’acov (Jacob), one of our forefathers. As many may know, in Hebrew, words that have the same root are almost always related in meaning since the root carries the core semantic idea. Who, among us, does not recall that Ya’acov was given that name when he came into the world holding onto the heel of his twin brother Esau? 

Jewish scholars, through the ages, pondered over the choice of the word “ekev” in the verse.

Rabbi Ari Kahn, for instance, asserts that “Had the Torah wished to state this wonderful result” of obeying the commandments,“in more straightforward terms, describing the ongoing relationship with G-d and the dynamic nature of His Covenant with the Jewish People, simpler words could have been employed.” Kahn further suggests that the use of the word “if” would be more appropriate since “it is the most straightforward word that connotes conditionality.”

Both Midrash Tanchuma, Parashat Ekev (section 1) and Rash”i believe that the word “ekev” was deliberately selected. They point to an additional message that is conveyed by it. According to them, it refers to commandments that people might treat lightly and thus tend to “trample them under their heels.” The “heel” metaphor, they suggest, is employed to remind us that even the simplest mitzvot, those that might be neglected or underestimated, bear significant reward. 

Or Hachaim (Chaim Ibn Attar 1696-1743) also dwells on this challenging choice of word after which the parashah is named. He believes that “ekev” hints at the end of days (“at the heels of history”) - that the ultimate blessing will come when the mitzvot are fully observed.

Rabbi Sacks highlights a different theme, a very significant one, in my view, of this parashah, one that is closely related to the titular name of this essay. His interpretation leads him to conclude that it teaches us about the “Spirituality of Listening,” principally when “the listening” is to an invisible G-d.  Sacks bases his assertion on the repetitive use of the word “shema” which appears in the opening verse of the parashah, as stated in its opening verse and which is reinforced later in the parashah (11:13).

“Shema,” tells us Sacks, “means so many things, to hear, to listen, to pay attention, to understand, to internalise, to respond, to obey.” Sacks notes that it is “ one of the motif-words of the book of Devarim [Deuteronomy] where it appears no less than 92 times.” Moshe keeps reminding Am Yisrael of the need to hear what G-d is telling us, to listen to what He wants and expects of us and what He will give us in return.

“Listening and speaking,” Sacks tells us, “are forms of engagement. They create a relationship,” and listening, remarks Sacks, is at “the heart of every relationship.” This is particularly important in Judaism, which Sacks defines as “the religion of listening” that is based on “faith in a G-d we cannot see, a G-d who cannot be represented visually.”

That is, precisely, the kind relationship G-d has with Am Yisrael, as is expressed in the Sinai Covenant. It is a Covenant of reciprocality because it is a two-way exchange where each side both gives and receives. It is reciprocal because it is built on mutual obligations and commitments between G-d and Am Yisrael, rather than being a one-sided decree. G-d’s role, in this relationship, is the promise of protection, provision, guidance, and making Am Yisrael a “kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Exodus 19:5-6). Am Yisrael’s part is the commitment to obey G-d’s commandments, including the “lightest” ones, live according to His Torah and adhere to what Sacks depicts as “life of love and love of life,” while fulfilling its role as a moral and spiritual example among the nations.

Dreamers and Dreams

 

This week’s Parashah, “Miketz,” just like “Vayeshev,” last week’s Parashah, opens with dreams. Dreams and their significance, as we encountered in Ya’akov’s monumental dream, a few weeks ago, are dispersed throughout the Biblical story.

What makes the dreams in this Parashah more compelling, however, is their interpretation and the imminence of their fulfillment in the context of the time in which they occur.

In “Miketz,” Yoseph displays his great talent of solving the dreams of others. In the past, his own dreams were a threat to his brothers and the subject of their mockery, “Here comes the dreamer!” (Bresheet, 37:19). His dreams also spawned their hatred of him and evoked in them the desire to kill him “Come now, let’s kill him and throw him into one of these cisterns and say that a ferocious animal devoured him. Then we’ll see what comes of his dreams.” (37: 20). Unlike his brothers, who were “jealous of him,” Ya’akov, their father, considers Yoseph’s dreams a matter of substance, a futuristic vision which is destined to transpire in the days to come, “but his father kept the matter in mind.” (37: 11).

So, Yoseph, the man who was thrown into the cistern, sold to the Yishmaelites because of his upsetting dreams, eventually rises to power by virtue of the dreams of others which he interprets. His dreams are the reason for his exile. His talent to decipher them gets him out of jail. Most importantly, his wisdom lends excellent counsel based on his interpretation which ultimately earn him the second highest position in Egypt.

A study of the methods of dreams interpretations, in the ancient world, reveals that it was considered a serious and established science. The way Yoseph illuminates dreams, in this Parashah, reflects a systematic familiarity with such methods. For instance, Oneirocriteria, a Greek treatise about the interpretation of dreams, written by Artemidorus of Ephesius, written in the second century, points at the significance of wine in dreams which implies their positive or negative indication. Drinking wine in a delicate and “wisely” way, according to Artimidorus (Oneirocriteria, book 1, 66) is always considered “a good sign.”

Using the same technique, Yoseph recognizes the difference between the two dreams of Pharaoh’s cupbearer and chief baker with whom he shares a prison cell. In his dream, the cupbearer serves the wine in a noble, royal manner, and thus improves his fate. The baker’s dream, on the other hand, in which he does not serve the bread “wisely” and where “the birds were eating them out of the basket on my head,” faces execution. 

Prior to listening to the dreams of the cupbearer and the chief baker, Yoseph asks them, "Do not interpretations belong to G-d?" (40:8). His question suggests that Yoseph believes that dreams deliver a Divine message which G-d conveys through the interpreter. 

It is this unique ability which earns Yoseph his freedom when he is invited to solve Pharaoh's dreams. 

I doubt that there is anyone here who is not familiar with Pharaoh's famous dream where he sees seven well-fed and fat fleshed cows standing by the river followed by the arrival of seven lean fleshed and hungry cows that stand by the plump cows (41:3) and consume them. Likewise, I trust that most are familiar with Yoseph's prediction that the cows represent good years of economic plentitude which will be followed by bad years of famine and hunger.

It is important to note that when Pharaoh recounts his dream to Yoseph, he omits one detail which appeared in his dream and replaces it with his own perception. In the version that he unfolds, he deletes the part where the lean and fat cows first stand alongside each other. Instead, he adds, "And when they had eaten them up, it could not be known that they had eaten them; but they were still ill favored, as at the beginning" (41:21) - the well-fed cows, in this description, disappear without leaving an impression.

Yoseph, in his wisdom and outstanding talent to solve dreams, erases this detail added by Pharaoh which would mean that the seven good years would leave no positive mark. Instead, he interprets the original dream in which the bad and the good cows are placed side by side. Only by acknowledging the presence of the seven good years can one prepare oneself for the subsequent seven bad years.

Pharaoh’s dreams occur in history itself. The Parashah reveals the materialization of the dream, as Yoseph’s states, “What G-d is about to do he sheweth unto Pharaoh” (41:29). In other words, the dream is the revelation of G-d’s plan and the key to understanding the course of history.

Pharaoh who is familiar with the original dream, becomes aware of the latent rigor of its interpretation. He recognizes Yoseph’s wisdom and foresight and is convinced. Moreover, Pharaoh himself, grasps the validity of Divine guidance in our earthly matters, “Forasmuch as God hath shewed thee all this, there is none so discreet and wise as thou art.” Later in the Parashah, he goes one step further and refers to Yoseph as a man “in whom the Spirit of G-d” dwells (41:39). He then sets Yoseph “over the land of Egypt” (41:41) to implement G-d’s outlined plan which Yoseph presents to him, a plan which eventually saves Egypt and its surrounding countries.

The term “dreamer,” as we can see, takes on a new meaning in this Parashah. It is no longer a disparaging label, a Walter Mitty, a mild man with fantasy life. Rather, it evokes appreciation and respect. Yoseph, who was the subject of disdain and mockery by his brothers, turns out to be a blend of vision, a moving force, and a strategic planner with great administrative skills.