This past week we celebrated Jonah’s Bar Mitzvah. What a joyous occasion it was. Jonah’s Torah portion was Miketz. Miketz means, at the end. Whether this is referring to the end of the two years that our ancestor Joseph spends in prison before he is released, or the end of the era of the Israelites living in Canaan before they descend down in to Egypt, this parshah reminds us that life is about cycles. The ending of one chapter leads to the beginning of another. And What is a Bar Mitzvah celebration if not the recognition of, and making space for the fact, that one chapter of a young person in our community’s life, is ending crossfading into the beginnings a new chapter, childhood into adulthood and the interplay between the two?
These cycles end and begin not only for the Bar Mitzvah celebrant for the parents as well. Celebrating the Bar Mitzvah of their youngest son, means hearkening back to their own celebrations, their own journeys, chapters closing and opening, closing and opening. That is the Jewish way—the human way: to take stock of endings and beginnings, endings and beginnings, the interplays between the two being those sacred moments like this one that we cherish and celebrate, and mekudash, set apart, make holy.
In Jonah’s portion, Joseph—who has been sold into slavery by his brothers, shipped down to Egypt by traveling caravans, made head of household in the home of Pharaoh’s chief steward, thrown into prison for a crime he did not commit, plucked from prison because of his ability to interpret dreams, and interpreted dreams for Pharaoh such that he recognizes that Egypt must save up during seven years of abundance for seven years of famine that are forthcoming—has been placed in charge of all Egypt, second only to Pharaoh, and responsible for the rationing and provisioning of food. Lo and behold, his brothers, not spared the reaches of the famine, appear before him to ask for rations for their large family back home in Canaan.
As Jonah observed, rather than immediately revealing himself, Jonah appears to want to gauge whether and how much his brothers have changed since the days that their jealous rage led them to sell him off. Joseph plays with them a bit, imprisoning one brother in order that the other brothers will go fetch their youngest brother Benjamin, their father’s new favorite, replacing Joseph and bring him down to Egypt. When this happens Joseph threatens have Benjamin imprisoned as well. This time, however, the brothers try to protect Benjamin, showing the ways in which they have changed since the days of Joseph.
Jonah taught us that this teaches us about apologies and forgiveness. Immediate forgiveness, he offered, is not always a best practice. Not if it appears that the offending party has not truly recognized the error of their ways, such that they will work on not making the same mistake again. Nor is it helpful, Jonah offered, to profess forgiveness if we still hold a grudge. Conversely, writing a person off altogether or doing or saying something we’ll regret is the offended party leads, Jonah suggested, to us being unable to forgive ourselves. Rather, Joseph, while doing so in a complicated way, charts a pathway forward for us in terms of forgiveness, according to Jonah: “this portion teaches us that it’s better to go for a middle ground when it comes to forgiveness, such as seeing if the people in your life have changed or talking to them before moving forward with forgiveness. That way when you do forgive them, it will feel truly meaningful, whereas if you forgive them on the spot the same problem could arise again,” he wrote.
Thank you, Jonah, for shedding a new light on this portion.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi K.