Parshas Vayeishev
Yosef’s Dreams—Bow Advice
By Rabbi Eliyahu Hoffmann
Although Yosef’s dreams—the brother’s sheaves bowing to his, and the
stars, moon and sun bowing to him—are at first glance two variations on an
identical theme, upon examining their nuances we find that there are
noteworthy differences. Moshav Zekeinim asks why in the first dream it is
their sheaves bowing to his sheaf, while in the second dream, “the sun,
moon and stars are bowing to me” (37:9)? He answers that in the first
dream, the sheaves were being held by Yosef and his brothers, so that when
their sheaves bowed to his, the implications were obvious. In the second
dream, if Yosef were to have been a star, who’s to say it was his star
that was being bowed to?
Both dreams, it would appear, allude to Yosef’s rise to greatness. Ba’alei
Tosafos raise the following question: In next week’s parsha (Miketz)
Pharaoh also has two dreams—seven thin cows swallowing seven fat ones, and
seven thin ears of grain swallowing seven full ones. Yosef correctly
interprets this to mean that there will be seven years of plenty, followed
by seven years of hunger. “And as for the repetition of the dream to
Pharaoh, twice, it is because the matter is already prepared before G-d,
and G-d is hastening to do it.” (41:32) Here too, we have essentially the
same dream repeated, yet it took 13 years before Yosef would begin his
rise to greatness in Egypt! In fact, it would be another nine years before
the dreams were fully realized, when his brothers and father came down to
Egypt and bowed before him. (See Rashbam ibid. who contends that double-
dreams are only significant if dreamed on the same night; Pharaoh’s were
and Yosef’s were not.)
How did Yosef allow all those years to pass—knowing full well the torture
it must be causing his father—yet never bothering to send him a message?
Ramban (42:9) answers that Yosef’s dreams were a form of prophecy that he
knew must be fulfilled. The first dream has all his brother bowing to him,
without Yaakov. This is why, says the Ramban, he insisted that Binyamin
come back with his brothers; until the first dream had been fully
realized, he could not reveal himself—for doing so would bring Yaakov as
well, and that was already encroaching on the territory of the second
dream.
According to this Ramban, we now understand why Yosef’s dreams were not
seen as repetitive, a sign of their imminence (the question of the Ba’alei
Tosafos). His brothers would bow to him twice; once without their father
and once with him. Since the dreams contained discrete messages, they were
in no way redundant.
It also helps us to answer the Moshav Zekeinim’s question—why in the first
dream they bow to his sheaf, and in the second dream to him. The first
time the brothers (alone) bowed to him without knowing who he was. This is
represented by the dream of the sheaves, in which their sheaves bow not to
Yosef but to his sheaf. Later the brothers return with Yaakov and they all
bow to Yosef after he has already revealed himself. [Chavatzeles Ha-sharon]
While this helps explain the nuances of the dreams and how they played out
in real-life, we must now address why it was necessary for them to bow to
Yosef twice, and why the first time had to be without knowing to whom they
bowed?
When the brothers first meet Yosef without Yaakov, they encounter him as
the mashbir—the one who sustains. They need food; Yosef has plenty. They
bow to him in awareness of his unique ability to sustain them during a
ravaging famine. This is why, in the dream, it was their sheaves bowing to
his; their deference is not to him but to what he has, food. Who he is at
this stage is inconsequential. Thus, in real-life, they bow to him
anonymously.
The second time the brothers bow to Yosef, they bow to him not because of
what he has, but what he is and what he has become. From near death and
slavery, he has emerged as a great leader in Egypt, yet he never forsook
the Torah, his heritage. In the dream, their stars bow to Yosef. In real-
life, they acknowledge him by bowing again (43:26) after learning who this
great man is. [Ibid.]
Perhaps therein lies a great lesson. In life, there are two types of
people for whom we must show deference: those who we recognize for what
they have, and those who we recognize for what they are. Look at the dais
of any important gathering—who are the guests of honour? Rabbanim, and the
wealthy.
There’s nothing wrong with this. While there are those who bemoan the
honour consistently showered upon the wealthy, the honour they receive is
not gratuitous. People with wealth, especially when they give generously
to important causes, should receive recognition. Rabbanim and Torah
leaders obviously deserve the honour they receive—and far more.
What the Torah is teaching us here is that while both those who have
something that’s important, and those who are important, deserve deference
and respect, we should never perceive them as equals in our mind’s eye.
There are those two whom we ‘bow’ face-to-face, recognizing who they are
and the great things they have accomplished.
When we ‘bow’ and give honour to the wealthy, it is not with deference to
their personage, but to what they have and what they’ve done with it.
Hashem gave them a gift. They have used it wisely, and well deserve the
honour they receive. But their wealth does not make them wiser, and more
importantly, does not give them authority over da’as Torah—the ability to
view all aspects of life through the Torah’s brilliant light. This is the
sole jurisdiction of those who have spent their lives immersed in Torah
study. To them we ‘bow,’ in a sense, namelessly.
Sadly, there are times when those funding yeshivos, kollelim, and other
Torah institutions, seek to assert their views and opinions about how
things should be done—and are ready to pull their support if things aren’t
done they way they think they should be. They fail to recognize that
formulas that may be highly successful in the business world can be
disastrous when applied to Torah study and its institutions. In one
instance, a revered Rosh Yeshiva was ultimately forced to abandon his
position due to his inability to convince the yeshiva’s wealthy patrons
that certain students simply didn’t belong in their yeshiva, and would
have done better elsewhere.
Someone once quipped: “Why does everyone trip over their feet trying to
get close to the rich and famous—it’s not as if we really think they’re
going to give us their money?! You know why? Because they have something
we like—money.” From the brothers we learn that, while it’s okay to ‘bow’
to wealth, we should never allow ourselves to worship its possessors.
Have a good Shabbos.
Text Copyright © 2005 by Rabbi Eliyahu Hoffmann and Torah.org