We have already had weeks of dreams: those of Jacob, Joseph, the chief cupbearer and baker, and now Pharoah. What struck me for the first time when returning to the opening part of this week’s parashah was how nicely the author(s)/editors/redactors of the text – delete as you desire – frame the description of Pharoah’s dreams. The opening phrase vayhi mikkeitz sh’natayim yamim (41:1) feels somewhat extravagant, with the dramatism of ‘Once upon a time’, given the sentiment could be expressed more simply. ‘And it came to pass at the end of two years [full] of days’, a rather wordy literal translation, loses some of the poeticism present in the Hebrew with the repeated elongated vowel sounds, particularly in the last two words with the diphthong in sh’natayim (a diphthong being the sound formed by the combination of two vowel sounds in one: here, the ‘a’ of the patach followed by the yud forms the sound ‘eye’). And of course, the fact that so many words are used to tell us that a significant amount of time has passed, emphasises the length of time that Joseph remained imprisoned.
The word which initially felt superfluous to me, mikkeitz, is the word which gives this parashah its name. I am amused at its absence from the translation given on Sefaria (which defaults to the JPS text), given the constant admonitions we received for daring to mention the website’s name when I was a student at Leo Baeck College, as well as feeling bizarrely irritated. Though mikkeitz comes from the root k-tz-tz, ‘cut off’, giving the word its meanings of ‘at the end of’ or a ‘course of time’, it is clearly connected to the similar sounding vayikatz a few verses later: Pharoah ‘awoke’, his dream-state came to an end.
This parallel structure – beginning and ending a passage with the same, similar or connected terms – is a frequently used rhetorical device in the Hebrew Bible, in its prose as well as its poetry, where it is more noted. It is also happening on a larger narrative level, too: his two dreams – or, rather, his recounting of them to his family – led to his enslavement, and now his interpretation of Pharoah’s two dreams will lead not only to his freedom but the fulfilment of his original dreams. Further, this opportunity of redemption is only possible because of two other dreams. It is, as the editors of Torah: A Women’s Commentary* remark, ‘a turn of poetic justice’.
The term used for dreams, ch-l-m, is gendered. Scott B. Noegel points out that its etymology ‘relates not to sleep of sensory phenomena, like expressions for dreaming in other ancient Near Eastern languages, but to male strength and reproductive health. Essentially it means to “be strong, virile, or sexually mature.”’** Once men reach puberty, he argues, their dreams have divine potential.
When Joseph dreams, vayachalom yoseif chalom, he ‘dreamt a dream’ (37:5), which he then recalls to his brothers by saying shim’u-na hachalom hazeh asher chalamti, ‘Hear this dream I have dreamed’ (37:6). Then, vayachalom od chalom acher, ‘he dreamed another dream’, saying to his brothers chalamti chalom od, ‘I have had another dream’ (37:9). Every time the root ch-l-m, the word dream, is mentioned, it is done so twice. We know Joseph is at the peak of his youth, a na’ar of 17, so it is expected that his virility and masculinity are accentuated. It is fascinating to me that this emphasis of his masculinity comes after the gifting of his striped tunic/technicolour coat/princess dress*** and in the following chapters Joseph doesn’t engage in sexual activity (though is accused of doing so). I’ll direct any readers interested in further exploration of ‘(Gender)queering Joseph’ to Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg’s writing titled as such, which is linked below. Incidentally, the cupbearer and chef are described as saris, eunuchs, placing them and their dreams in further contrast with Joseph.
I grew up singing Debbie Friedman’s song And The Youth Shall See Visions, the chorus of which begins with the line from Joel 3:1 ‘Your sons and daughters shall prophesy; And the old shall dream dreams, and the youth shall see visions’. Looking at the text just now is a reminder that we are definitely not taught the context of all the pithy, idealistic statements we take from our texts. Part of me is tempted to try and frame this verse as a nice, prophetic call to leave the patriarchal narrative that decrees men and masculinity as the markers of and access to divine prophecy, and now everyone is able to prophesy (though the ‘old’ unfairly stuck with ch-l-m and its symbolism: perhaps we interpret that as our older texts or ideas, rather than people). But that is somewhat reductive. Sometimes it is enjoyable just to look at a few words more closely, as a reminder that our texts are rich, beautiful, ugly and complicated all at the same time. For me, literary analysis – reading the Bible as literature – was my first way into building my own meaning from our sacred texts, and it brings me joy. As Chanukkah is really Sukkot, I hope this z’man simchateinu, this time of rejoicing, and the winding down of the secular year gives you some time and space to spend some time with our texts, in whatever way brings you joy.
Rabbi Daisy Bogod
* now also available on Sefaria! Happy Chanukkah!
** Scott B. Noegel, ‘Maleness, Memory, and the Matter of Dream Divination in the Hebrew Bible’ in Perchance to Dream: Dream Divination in the Bible and the Ancient Near East, eds. Esther J. Hamori and Jonathan Stökl (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2018), 61-90, p. 64.
*** As coined by Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg, ‘(Gender)queering Joseph’, 2021. <https://lifeisasacredtext.substack.com/p/queering-joseph>.
The views expressed in this D’var Torah do not necessarily reflect the position of Leo Baeck College.