Parshat Vayeshev

December 20, 2024

This is a drasha I delivered to my synagogue community.

Shabbat Shalom, everyone. Here we are, deep in December. Yesterday, I was biking in the rain. Dark clouds, freezing cold, and very windy. For those of us in the Netherlands, the days feel impossibly short. The mornings are dark when we wake up, and by the time we look up at four o'clock, the sun has disappeared again. This season of long nights and gray skies can be a little heavy—like the world itself has dimmed. And it's in this moment that we read Parashat Vayeshev, a portion that feels like it was written for times like these.

This parashah is full of plot, but what I want to focus on is the darkness in it—Joseph thrown into a pit, sold into slavery, imprisoned far from home. It's about being stuck in places where light seems hard to find. But it's also about resilience: holding on, not giving up, and believing in the possibility of light even when we can't see it yet.

Joseph starts out in this week's parashah as the favorite son, wearing his coat of many colors, full of dreams about his future. At seventeen, he seems untouchable. But all of that changes in an instant. His brothers strip him of his coat, throw him into a pit, and sell him into slavery. The world that Joseph knew—his father's love, his family, his home—is ripped away from him. Then, as if that isn't enough, Joseph is wrongfully accused of attempted assault and thrown into prison. It's another pit, this one cold and hopeless. By this point, Joseph's life has unraveled completely. And yet, the Torah tells us something remarkable: "God was with Joseph."

What does that mean?

Because let's be honest—Joseph's circumstances look anything but blessed. He's suffering, abandoned, and stuck. But "God was with Joseph" doesn't mean everything was easy; it means Joseph kept going. He didn't let his suffering define him. He didn't think of himself as a victim. He worked hard, earned trust, and brought light to others—interpreting dreams, offering help—even in prison.

Joseph couldn't control what happened to him, but he could control how he responded. And he chose resilience. He chose to believe that the darkness was not the end of his story. This message couldn't come at a better time.

Next week, on Wednesday evening, we'll light the first candle for Hanukkah. The story of Hanukkah is about finding light when everything seems lost. The Maccabees, faced with the desecration of the Temple, didn't give up. They found one jar of oil—just enough for a single day—and lit it anyway. They believed in possibility even when the evidence wasn't there, and that tiny flame became a miracle, lasting eight days.

Joseph's story is its own kind of Hanukkah miracle. Thrown into the darkest places, he keeps the flame of hope alive. That light doesn't change his circumstances immediately, but it transforms him. His resilience becomes his strength, his wisdom grows, and eventually, his ability to see light in the darkness leads him towards freedom.

Like Joseph, we can choose resilience. We can decide to keep moving forward, even when things are hard. Like the Maccabees, we can light the candle—even if this act feels small, even if we're not sure it will last. And sometimes, that light comes in the smallest of actions: reaching out to someone who feels alone, finding gratitude even on difficult, dark days, and simply reminding ourselves that darkness doesn't last forever.

Shabbat Shalom.