Miketz, a drash

Pharaoh dreams of seven handsome fat cows being eaten by seven ugly, skinny cows.  Pharaoh dreams of seven solid healthy ears of wheat on a single stalk, being followed by seven thin sickly ears on a stalk scorched by the east wind.  He is a hereditary monarch, and therefore not very bright, so he calls for a man of discernment and wisdom to interpret the dreams, and Joseph is remembered and summoned. 

Joseph tells Pharaoh that God had determined there were to be seven years of plenty that would be followed by seven years of famine, when, as Rashi wrote, “the plenty would be forgotten”.  Joseph, not being an idiot, follows this interpretation with a recommendation to Pharoah that he find a man of discernment and wisdom to oversee a program of gathering food during the good years so that it can be distributed during the bad years. We know our man Joseph got the job, and the rest is, well, Exodus.

Seven years of plenty and seven years of famine; seven years of good-looking and seven years of ugly;  seven years of profit and partying; and seven years of grief and shock.  We know this cycle.  Boom and bust.  And we’re busted. 

So now, some of us are oblivious and some of us are scared.  Some prosper and some barely get by.  Some get bonuses and some have been broken.  Some of us blame the greedy and some of us blame ourselves.  Some of us have been permanently beaten down and some of us have risen up.

Good times, bad times.  Good guys, bad guys.  Good and evil.  How can the good survive the evil? And, why do we read this parsha, Miketz, on Chanukah, the Festival of Light & Dedication?  

Rabbi Arthur Green, in his interpretation of the Hasidic Sefat Emet’s commentary on Miketz, writes:

 “Divinity is everywhere:  there is no other source of being.  All that exists is of God, whether revealed or in hiding.  But the power of hiding, the exile of the mind from any awareness of divine presence, can sometimes be very great.  And the evil that human beings can perpetrate in the course of hiding from God’s light can indeed be without end.”

I hate the banks.  I hate the banks so much that I can’t walk past an ATM without wanting to throw a rock at it.  I hate the banks so much, that even as I quote Arthur Green telling you that God’s light is without end, when it comes to banks and bankers, I don’t believe that for a minute.     How can God be in something that is so impersonal, so uncaring, a machine that crushes without a glance at who or what it is crushing?    It’s hard to see the people in that machine.  I know they’re there.  I know most of them must think of themselves as good people. I must try to have compassion for them, find  God’s light in them, even if they can’t see it themselves, even if they hide from that light, I should be able to see it.  But it’s hard work.  I want justice.  I want consequences.

Since the recession I have not been able to get a full time job but I lived like I was working.  I refused to forget the time of plenty.   I hid from the truth of my own financial foolishness and trouble, and I hid from the inevitable consequence of waiting to for someone else to fix up my personal mess.    I find myself desperately wanting a man of discernment, a Joseph to come and organize me through the lean times.  For a while after the recession began, I wanted to rely on Obama to get us through this experience and I squirmed or denied or felt hopeless when he did not or could not fix our economic mess.  We are on our own.   We must organize ourselves.

Why do we read Miketz on Chanukah, the Festival of Light and Dedication?   This is the time when the mighty were delivered into the hands of the weak.  Chanukah is a Festival of a light that shines on the lies and delusions, on the delusions of the fat years and the troubles of the lean ones.  It shines on the pharaohs and the starving peasants and the banks and the unemployed.  And it asks us to choose whether we will embrace or hide from God’s light. Joseph was in prison, falsely accused with no end in sight.  The Maccabees lived under the thumb of invaders and a mad capricious king.  But neither wallowed in the despair of their situation.  They did what they needed to do. 

So, are we Joseph, that discerning man who serves the powers-that-be so he can feed the hungry?  Or are we Maccabees, resisting the bad guys with direct action?

Good and evil, boom or bust, all that exists is of God.

Rabbi Shefa Gold writes:  

“We can honor and protect the seeds of liberation that are in us - our compassion and open-hearted vision of the preciousness of every being. When we carry old hurts, and the bitterness that surrounds those wounds, then our every attempt to do justice is distorted by a sensation of pain.  And so the spiritual challenge is to heal those deep places of bitterness. In that healing, the Spirit of God in us is made manifest.”

So—

It’s the winter solstice,

The earth tilts away from the light,

The east wind scorches.

So we must lean forward

And light candles

So we can see whatever there is to see.

And the days will grow longer

When the earth tilts toward the sun.

Shabbat Shalom.  Happy Chanukah.

BEHOLD

I. Behold
In Torah, God shows the future in our dreams to whomever God thinks appropriate.
Then God sends wise interpreters to the dreamers to explain the messages that God has sent us.
Only when interpreted can the dreams come true.
Hinei, meaning Behold, is the word used in Torah to introduce such a dream.

II. Behold, Joseph dreams
Joseph dreamt of wheat sheaves that bowed to him and the aging Wrestler Jacob understood and interpreted
Thus, he gave his annoying son a striped coat.
So the story could begin and the prophecy come true.
 Once upon a time, a gifted but foolish child was sold into slavery…
But when Joseph saw his brothers again, they were hungry and he was a lord.
And they bowed down to him and he understood, and forgave because it was basherte, meant to be.
Thus they hugged and they ate and they cried.
So thank you, Jacob.
Because without interpretation, a prophecy is wasted.


III. Then behold, science dreams.
While we sleep our brains show us random pictures of what we had seen that day or what we can imagine, based on what our brains already knew even if we didn’t know we knew them.
And our brain imposes order on the random and constructs a story.
Thus we gain access to the things we know but don’t know we know,
And we call that a dream.
Chalom is the Hebrew word for dream, which sounds like chalon, which is the word for window.
So a dream can be prophecy or neurology or a window to one’s soul.
And our therapists interpret our dreams so we’ll understand our inner motivations.
Once analyzed, a dream gives insight.
So Danke Schoen, Freud.
Because without explanation, an image is wasted

IV. Hinei! Rebbe Hannina dreams
He says,
Human versions of God’s vast intent are as unripened fruit,
Filled with potential,
Perceived completely only by God.
Hanina says that the unripened fruit of prophecy is a dream.
Which is kind of cool.
So I speculate,
The unripened fruit of truth is the story.
We tell tales with beginnings middles and ends around our seder table, for instance.
Then we bite into sweet charoses and pretend it is mortar for bitter bricks,
Because it fits the narrative.
So thanks, all you Jews.
Because without a congregation, a maggid is wasted.

V. Behold, Jacob dreams
Jacob dreamt of a ladder and souls that went up and down,
But his soul stayed put as he mourned his dead son, Joseph, who turned up actually not so dead.
And when Jacob got the good news and moved to Egypt, he had to face the facts.
At the end of his life, the end of Bereishit, he predicts the future.
Behold! says Jacob, and some get a farmland and some get sheep.
Behold! says Jacob, and those rotten kids, Reuben, Simeon (not so nice, not so honest, not so deserving) get futures of disgrace and division.
Behold! says Jacob, and Judah, who made teshuvah,  who pleased God because he could learn from his mistakes and change,
Judah gets history,
Jew-dah gets us, the Jews.
Then Jacob dies, a hard, full life.
 Chazak, chazak, Jacob – Be strong, be strong
So thanks, Genesis,
Because without dynastic mythologies, a dysfunctional family is wasted.

VI. Behold, Moses dreams
One tale ends, so another can begin.
In Shmot, starting next week, another great story, more unripened fruit, this one of murdered babies, supernatural revenge, bad guys, and heroes.
And, after a mad dash across the Sea of Reeds,
There’s much rejoicing,
Quickly interrupted by hunger and miracles and rules and revelation.
And even though the rest of us often find ourselves in the desert,
Or tied up on the metaphorical railroad tracks:
“Pay the rent!” “I can’t pay the rent!”
Not even dreaming of rescue,
Making bricks without straw,
No aspirations, no hope, no prophecies, no future!
Then here comes our hero, Moshe, “I’ll pay the rent!
Have some commandments! Become a people!”
So, nice to see you coming up in the third act, Moishe.
Because without a happy ending, complications are wasted.

VII. Behold, our dream
So we pray and listen for the presence of God in ambient sound
Trying to hear truth amongst all the voices of our lives
Trying to interpret the noise properly so that it will come true, if it should,
And we can be part of a much larger story.
Not Hinei,
Behold
But Hineini,
Here I am.
So we can all take responsibility and not be ashamed,
Se we can all learn from our mistakes and make teshuvah,
So we can all forgive and not be bitter.
And hug and eat and cry and change the world.
For good and for ill,
As did our illustrious uncle, Joseph of Egypt.
And our great great grandpa, Judah the Lion.
So thanks, Grace Paley, who more or less said,
“Without action, hope is wasted.”


Brucha At Yah,
Infinite and eternal so that we may have endings and beginnings.
I am so grateful that we are able to study Torah together.
Because without connection, dreams are wasted.

Amen.




Written originally for the Drisha Institute Artists Fellowship program, based on our study of dreams in Talmud

Behold! Divrei Tefillah

Written for the 2009-2010 Drisha Artists Fellowship
© 2010 Trisha Arlin

Blessed Was•Is•Will Be, Breath of Eternity, that creates holy separation between waking and sleeping.

In Torah, God shows the future in our dreams to whomever God thinks appropriate
And then God sends wise interpreters to us so we can tell them our dreams and they will tell us the messages that God has sent us.
And, once and only when explained, the dreams come true.
Hinei! which means, Behold, that’s the word used in Torah to introduce such a dream.
Which is definitely not that thing that happens every night that you forget in the morning before you’ve brushed your teeth, but something important, something you must announce.
So here I go. I had a dream. Hinei.

II. Behold, Torah dreams.
So Joseph dreamed of wheat sheaves that bowed to him and the aging Wrestler understood and interpreted
Thus he gave his annoying son a striped coat,
So the dreams came true and the story commenced
And when Joseph saw his brothers again, they were hungry and he was a lord.
And they bowed down to him and he understood, and forgave because it was basherte, And no need to be bitter.
Thus they hugged and they ate and they cried.
So thank you, Jacob.
Because without interpretation, a prophecy is wasted.

III. Then behold, science dreams.
While we sleep our brains show us random pictures of what we had seen that day or what we can imagine, based on what our brains already knew because what else is there?
And our brain imposes order on the random and constructs a story
And we call that a dream.
Chalom is the Hebrew word for dream, which sounds like chalon, is the word for window. Possibly no relation (I must ask the rabbi) but to my English-speaking ears, this establishes connection.
So perhaps a dream is prophecy or neurology or a window to one’s psyche, I dunno.
But our therapists interpret our dreams so we’ll understand our inner motivations.
Once analyzed, a dream gives insight.
So Danke Schoen, Freud.
Because without explanation, an image is wasted

IV. Behold, Rebbe Hannina says
Human versions of God’s vast intent are as unripened fruit.
Filled with potential, perceived completely only by God.
He says that the unripened fruit of prophecy is a dream.
Which is kind of cool.
So I speculate, the unripened fruit of truth is the story.
We tell tales with beginnings middles and ends around our seder table, for instance.
Then we bite into sweet charoses and pretend it is mortar for bitter bricks
Because it fits the narrative.
So thanks, all you Jews,
Because without an audience, a maggid is wasted.


V. Behold, Moses dreams
Of a story of escape from bondage, bad guys, and a hero or two.
And after much pain and death, and a mad dash across the Sea of Reeds, there’s much rejoicing.
Quickly interrupted by hunger and miracles and rules and revelation.
And even though the rest of us
Often find ourselves in the desert, or tied up on the metaphorical railroad tracks
Pay the rent I can’t pay the rent
Not even dreaming of rescue, making bricks without straw
No aspirations, no hope, no prophecies, no future
Then comes Moshe, I’ll pay the rent
So Todah rabah, Shmot.
Because without complications, a happy ending is wasted.

VI. Behold, five old rabbis pull an all-nighter.
Reclining but not sleeping
Discussing the unripened fruit of Exodus.
Awake but always dreaming of questions asked over and over again.
Why on this night? And we children try to please them:
The grind who asks what they want him to ask and the wise-ass who won’t.
The sweet one, leaning against his mother, wants to know, why does anyone have to die?
And the littlest one at the kid’s table, stares at the drops of wine-blood on his plate and thinks, huh?
And the rabbis ask questions of each other and each one has a different answer.
But no matter how much they disagree, it always ends with the Shma.
So thanks, kids.
Because without questions, a long night is wasted.


VII. Behold, throwing dreams
Hannah invented personal prayer.
In private rebellion, she dared to speak her heart
And then fling it out to God.
And she wasn’t worried about High Priests or their approval,
Because her need was too great.
And God heard. Because God does.
Hineini, not Hinei.
So I pray and dream and listen for the presence of God in ambient sound
And hope to interpret the dream properly so that it will come true, if it should,
And be part of a much larger story.
So we can all forgive and not be bitter
And hug and eat and cry and change the world
As did our illustrious uncle, Joseph of Egypt.
So thanks, Grace Paley, who more or less said,
“Without action, hope is wasted.”

VIII. So anyway, behold behold behold!
Behold, my dream.
Sorry it took so long to get here, I wish it I’d arrived at it sooner
I really really do. But I got here as fast as I could.
So this is it, Hinei,
I dream of interpretation and analysis
Of neurons and freedom and food, of argument and doubt.
Of unripened fruit and leadership and complicated stories that get better each time you tell them.
I dream of Is and Was and Will Be
In the vast undifferentiated Ein Sof, timeless and gender free, One-ness.
I dream that we are kind to each other whenever possible.
And I dream of windows and connection and history.
I dream of the time and opportunity to study for all who wish to learn.
I dream of receiving wisdom from all who have to share.
And,Thank God,
Of a world where no books are unread
And nothing and no one is wasted.

IX. And behold, at last, my actual dream
That I had the night before the first day of classes last September:
HINEI! I am wandering the hallway and then I realize, I’m on a sort of scavenger hunt with the other students, we’re going from clue to clue.
It is very difficult but very exciting and at last, I find all the clues and I find my hidden treasure,
It is a message, written on a big piece of white oaktag, in calligraphy
One huge Hebrew letter,
Pei.
Mouth
Storyteller
The number 80, the sign of eternity and the the circle
Huh.
Behold.

Amen