Bells are Ringing
Wake Up Calls about power and planning ahead in Parashat Miketz
David’ Broza’s classic song, “Haifa,” the “real city.”
Greetings from Small Potatoes on the road. I am halfway across the world in Haifa, enjoying sitting at the crossroads of four faiths — Judaism, Christianity, Islam, and Ba’hai. In a moment, you can get a free menorah and sufganiyot from Chabad, hear the call to prayer from local mosques, watch scores of pilgrims file into the Bahai gardens, and hear the church bells of Catholic and Orthodox churches preparing for Christmas celebrations. What is so shocking about being in Haifa — as opposed to Jerusalem — is that there is no palpable tension or clear dividing line among the traditions. The melange of languages and cultures feels natural and almost mundane. Since it doesn’t bleed, it doesn’t lead, but I think Haifa is one of the most important stories in this region’s history, and provides a vision of what a workable future could look like.
In this week’s portion, Miketz, bells also play a prominent role, less as a sign of celebration, and more as a sign of alarm. However, the wakeup call that they provide allow Egypt to function through impending tragedy — a reality that would not have been possible if Pharaoh had not listened to his spirit and to the advice of a lowly Jewish prisoner, Joseph. In Genesis 41:8, we encounter a deeply troubled Egyptian sovereign:
וַיְהִ֤י בַבֹּ֙קֶר֙ וַתִּפָּ֣עֶם רוּח֔וֹ וַיִּשְׁלַ֗ח וַיִּקְרָ֛א אֶת־כׇּל־חַרְטֻמֵּ֥י מִצְרַ֖יִם וְאֶת־כׇּל־חֲכָמֶ֑יהָ וַיְסַפֵּ֨ר פַּרְעֹ֤ה לָהֶם֙ אֶת־חֲלֹמ֔וֹ וְאֵין־פּוֹתֵ֥ר אוֹתָ֖ם לְפַרְעֹֽה׃
Next morning, his spirit was agitated, and he sent for all the magician-priests of Egypt, and all its sages; and Pharaoh told them his dreams, but none could interpret them for Pharaoh.
The word for agitated here is unusual, and its root (pay, eyin, mem) is only used one other place in the Bible — also in relation to dreams. In the Book of Daniel, King Nebuchadnezzar is also perturbed by a revelation in a dream that ultimately only our prophet Daniel can decipher. Our medieval commentators try and figure out the precise meaning of the word, and Rashi (11th century France) connects it to the word pa’amon which means “bell.” Pharaoh’s spirit run within him, and the vibrations compelled him to find resonant interpretation of his dream that could bring him peace. Ibn Ezra (11th century N. Africa) connects the word to pa’am, which means “anvil,” because the weight and complication of his dream crushed his spirit like a beaten body.
Joseph stood out among the many who came to aid Pharaoh in interpreting his dream. All of the greatest experts in the land — the magicians and diviners — could not bring the dream’s true meaning to light. It was Joseph who could see what the images foretold, and empowered Pharaoh to take decisive action to prevent a deadly famine. Both his God-given talents and his outsider perspective allowed him to see beyond the well-worn platitudes and easy explanations of what perturbed the Egyptian king. He too was roused by the warning bells of Pharaoh’s premonition, and the potential for grave communal consequences. According to Sforno (Italy, 15th century), all of the magicians interpreted the dream as though something terrible would only affect Pharaoh personally. Joseph saw this dream as an impeding tragedy for the entire community. Joseph saw the broader picture, and in the process, saved both the Egyptian people and his own Israelite kin.
Joseph’s insight saved both those in his host nation and his own people. Their fates would ultimately be interwoven in an immediate physical sense. Centuries later, as Daniel sat with Nebuchadbezzar, there is a different kind of connection between the Babylonians and the Jews in the king’s dream. According to Da’at HaZkenim (France, 13th Century), Daniel laments to the King that it is a shame that our prophet Aaron is no longer with them to decipher the dream according to the majestic stones on his famous breast plate. The Da’at Zkenim imagines the conversation between them that follows:
Nebuchadnezzar, when hearing these words of Daniel, told him that he now remembered about the significance of that breastplate and the urim and tumim. He added that the Jewish people had lost their world because their priests had made unlawful use of that breastplate. This is why he decreed a similar fate for his own priests.
In both Babylonia and Egypt, a Jew with limited social and political power helps a perturbed non-Jewish sovereign interpret dreams that rattle and rouse their spirits. In the case of Joseph, Pharaoh is shown impending economic and agriculture doom, and a way to provide a sustainable future for two intertwined nations. In the case of Daniel, his exchange with Nebuchadnezzar not only provides the Babylonian King with essential political insight for his people, but also deep wisdom for both nations about how to retain a world of sovereignty and strength: resist the siren call of corruption and abuse of power. As the Jewish people are about to rebuild their homeland and their second Temple, their conversation would provide prescient and essential wisdom: we only can hold onto our worlds when the power we have been granted is used in ways that are holy and honest.
Here in Haifa, the bells are ringing — they provide both a joyous atmosphere, but also a connection to this week’s portion. Our souls should be woken up and a little disturbed in a world that seems to be at a loss about how to wield power ethically and wisely. In order to find peace during this season of miracles, we should listen to the stories that surprise us and extend beyond tired platitudes — the words of those that fall outside our comfortable and familiar communities. It is with those words that we can see how our human fates are woven together, and we can devise collaborative solutions that allow us to prepare effectively for a tumultuous future. Only then will we be able to hold onto the world that is filled with Divine blessing, trust, and beauty.
Shabbat Shalom, Hanukkah Sameach, and Merry Christmas.