GOOD MORNING! This past week, I had an eye-opening conversation with a regular reader and supporter of the Shabbat Shalom Fax of Life. He asked to dedicate an upcoming column in honor of his parents’ 60th anniversary at the end of December. I found it particularly interesting as my own parents’ 60th anniversary was just last month. We got to talking about our families and how he planned on celebrating his parents’ anniversary by noting how things have changed in the 60 years of their union.

He then he told me something that I found absolutely stunning. He related that in 2001 they interviewed his 85-year-old grandmother and she described what it was like living before any of the then-current technology. For example, she having a hard time wrapping her mind around how a fax machine worked.

His grandmother, who grew up in the US, was then asked the following question: “What did the Jews in America know about the Holocaust as it was happening?”

She started crying, “We knew. We all knew. But we wanted to keep quiet. We didn’t want the European antisemitism to spread over here. We were afraid that everyone would blame the Jews for pushing the United States into the war. In retrospect, Pearl Harbor was a miracle.”

Her words sent chills up my spine and I almost started crying myself. I had wanted to believe that, for the most part, American Jews were fairly ignorant of what was happening to their brethren in Europe. But willful ignorance of what they were unprepared to confront was something that I hadn’t considered. My first reaction was one of deep disappointment and concern for the moral compass of our people.

But then I began to reflect on the realities of being Jewish in mid-twentieth century America. Antisemitism was rampant and pervasive in all strata of society. Many years ago, I was chaplain of the local Shabbat-observant Boy Scout troop here in Miami. One of the trips we took was to the Jewish Museum on South Beach. They have a permanent exhibition on the history of Jews in the state of Florida.

On display are two original signs commonly found in front of hotels in Miami Beach in the 40’s-60’s: 1) “No Blacks, No Dogs, No Jews” and 2) “Always a View, Never a Jew.” A 10-year-old scout stared questioningly, literally unable to comprehend what he was reading. “What does that mean?” He was clueless.

I grew up in Miami Beach in the mid 70’s and had experienced some occasional antisemitic events – as a kid a group of older boys once surrounded me and threw me off my bike, taunting me with “dirty Jew.” But that wasn’t the only remnant of the prior decades. The main street in the middle of Miami Beach is named for Arthur Godfrey, a TV personality who was associated with the Kenilworth hotel – which had a gentile-only policy. He would broadcast his show from there and later became a part owner.

Mount Sinai Hospital in Miami Beach was built in the mid-1940’s because no local hospitals would hire Jewish doctors. Never mind trying get proper medical care as a Jew living in South Florida at that time. Thus, a “Jewish” hospital was built.

But how quickly things change. By the mid-90’s, most of the hotels in Miami Beach were owned by Jews and the most successful hospital in Miami Beach was Mount Sinai. The other two hospitals became real estate developments – both bought and developed by Jews. I would venture to say that today the vast majority of properties on Arthur Godfrey Road are Jewish owned. Miami Beach is a far cry from what it was 60 or 70 years ago. Little wonder that my young cub scout could not conceive of what had taken place in Miami Beach only a generation or two before.

In a similar vein, I do not feel that we can pass judgement on those who lived in the tumultuous era of mid-20th century America. We have no real understanding of what it was like to be continuously discriminated against on a daily basis. My great-grandfather, who emigrated from Poland, was fired every week because he was Shabbat observant; “If you don’t show up on Saturday don’t bother to show up on Monday” was the common refrain.

Can we really blame those who lived in fear for being terrified that the horrors taking place in Europe might extend to America if they spoke up or took action? Who are we to judge the actions of others that took place within circumstances that we ourselves never personally experienced?

Ultimately, there is a “Judge” and a Judgement Day for everything that takes place in this world, and neither He nor His system require our input on the matter.

Mankind's incredible ability to adapt to new circumstances has, fundamentally, been the key to its survival. But the flip side of that very same coin is that we adapt because we accept the new circumstances as the only reality that we know. Thus, very often the lessons of the past are discarded and abandoned, or at the very least they seem far and distant, perhaps even mostly irrelevant.

We find a similar message in this week’s Torah reading. In it we read the beginning of the third and final act of the story of Joseph and his brothers. In the opening sentences of this week’s Torah portion, we find the extraordinary showdown between Joseph and his brother Judah, the brother who spearheaded the process of Joseph being sold into slavery.

Joseph, whose identity had thus far not been revealed to his brothers, had orchestrated circumstances whereby Benjamin, the youngest of the brothers, would be accused of being a thief and was to be punished by being locked away for many years in indentured servitude in Egypt. Joseph wished to see how the brothers would react to such a situation. After all, that was the life to which they had relegated him to suffer.

But Judah had learned from his previous mistakes. He had seen how deeply his father had suffered and continued to suffer at the loss of his beloved son Joseph, and it deeply affected Judah. When Joseph originally demanded that they bring down their youngest brother if they wished to purchase any food in Egypt, Judah had guaranteed Benjamin’s safety to his father with his very own life. When Joseph told the brothers that they could return to their father in the land of Canaan, but they had to leave Benjamin behind to pay for his “sin,” Judah was having none of it.

He challenged Joseph and vehemently protested Benjamin’s incarceration. He also issued a thinly veiled threat that he wouldn’t stand for it. When Joseph saw that Judah and his brothers had learned from their terrible mistake of selling him and would do whatever it took to protect Benjamin, Joseph was overcome with emotion and revealed his true identity to his brothers.

After their initial shock, and a mostly warm reunion, Joseph charged them with bringing their father and all of their families from the land of Canaan, which was still clutched in the throes of a famine, down to Egypt where he could oversee their welfare. Joseph promised that he would take care of all of them.

The rabbis teach us a fascinating fact about how Joseph hinted to his father that he was the one really sending the message to come to Egypt. The Torah says that Jacob “saw the wagons that Joseph had sent to transport him” (45:27). However, it previously said that Pharaoh himself had authorized the wagons; why did it suddenly say that Jacob saw the wagons that Joseph sent?

One must wonder why Joseph, who had been gone for decades, never before sent a message to his father. Though we will never know for sure, it must be noted that for much of the time he was away (about 13 years) he was a slave and then (falsely) jailed for attempted rape. Not exactly uplifting news to give one’s father. He may have preferred that his father think him dead rather than receive such evil tidings.

Jacob, for his part, must have been terribly conflicted upon hearing that his beloved Joseph was still alive. His son had been gone for 22 years and was surely steeped in the hedonistic Egyptian culture. Jacob may have wondered what remained of his beloved son after all of these years?

It is for this reason that the Torah says that Jacob saw the wagons that Joseph sent. Rashi explains that the Hebrew word for wagon is the same as the Hebrew word for calf. Joseph was reminding his father of the last Torah class they had studied together – the laws regarding breaking the neck of a calf as an atonement for the citizens of a city who don’t properly protect a stranger from death upon his departure.

But Joseph was sending a much deeper message to his father. He was telling him, “Although I have been away from you for over 22 years, I have not adapted to the ways of Egyptian culture and their social mores. I am still the very same Joseph, the one with whom you studied Torah, and I have remained loyal to our heritage. I may have been away for a few decades, but you still have your son. The very same one whom you instilled with Torah and Torah values.”

This was the ultimate triumph of Joseph – not that he had merely survived the ordeal of being sold as a slave to Egypt, but that he had remained true to who he was. The surrounding difficult circumstances he suffered never changed him. In fact, he raised a true Torah family. It is for this reason that we bless our sons on Friday night that they should be like the children of Joseph – who grew up in a strange country with little morality, yet they, like their father, remained true to their Jewish faith. We bless our children that, no matter their life circumstances, they too follow the same path and always remain true Jews.

Vayigash, Genesis 44:18 - 47:27

We left off last week with Joseph’s pronouncement that he was keeping Benjamin as a slave for stealing his wine cup. Judah steps forward to challenge the decision and offers himself as a slave instead of Benjamin. Joseph is overcome with emotion, clears the room of all Egyptians and then reveals his identity to his unsuspecting brothers.

The brothers are shocked! They suspect Joseph’s intentions, but accept his offer to bring the extended family to Egypt. Jacob is initially numb and disbelieving of the news, but becomes very excited to see his son.

The Torah recounts the 70 members of Jacob’s family who went down to Egypt. Jacob reunites with Joseph, meets Pharaoh and settles with the family in the Goshen district. During the famine, Joseph buys up all of the property and people in Egypt for Pharaoh with the grain stored during the seven good years.