The Weekly Parsha

[John Fisher]

Each week I will post the weekly Parsha here along with the summary from Chabad.org

[Elaine Friedland]

A traditional discussion of Chayyei Sarah from Mechon Hadar http://www.mechonhadar.org/c/document_library/get_file?uuid=93325cd...

[Elaine Friedland]

Parshat Toldot 5770
By Rabbi Rachel Kahn-Troster
November 21, 2009

As an activist, learning about the work of previous generations can be inspiring—and terrifying. I begin to wonder if I will ever be able to accomplish what the leaders of eras past did, or be willing to take the same risks. For example, when I was in elementary and middle school, the fight to end South African apartheid was often in the news and many of the young activists were not much older than I was. I remember thinking: “What would I be able to do to show such strong moral leadership and live up to their example?”

I imagine that the patriarch Isaac felt the same anxiety, as he is often seen as living in the shadow of his father. Abraham was a trail-blazer, taking his clan to a new land to establish a monotheistic religion and forming an everlasting covenant with God to found a new nation. He did not leave a lot of space for the son born to him late in life, Isaac, to do more than continue his legacy—much as the achievements of earlier activists can feel limiting to today’s aspiring leaders.

Yet our awe for these accomplishments is often tinged with disappointment when we find that our predecessors’ work was left unfinished. We sometimes feel as though we’re fighting the same battles, still struggling for a renewed and repaired world despite their best efforts. In Parshat Toldot, Isaac experiences this frustration, discovering that some of his father’s achievements were not fully realized. In one example, a conflict over the digging of wells that Abraham had attempted to resolve in his day reignites when Isaac comes to dwell in the same land. Abraham’s tenuous treaty with the local Philistine king, Abimelech, collapses when Isaac begins to prosper, and the Philistines stop up the wells that Abraham had dug, forcing Isaac from the land.1

I can understand how Isaac, re-entangled in a conflict of the past, might be discouraged, tempted to give up on finding his own resolution. Indeed, at first he tries to avoid conflict by moving—three times—to dig new wells, comforting himself with the thought that God has blessed everyone with a lot of space in which to live.2

But when the quarrel over water follows him to Beer-sheba, God appears, launching a turning point for Isaac: “I am the God of your father Abraham,” God says. “Fear not, for I am with you, and I will bless you and increase your offspring...”3 The blessing, simultaneously invoking the greatness of his father and foreseeing Isaac’s future as his own man, gives Isaac the courage to secure the lasting peace that Abraham failed to achieve. When Abimelech later comes to meet him with an entourage, Isaac, backed by God’s assurance of support, has the strength to confront the Philistine king about his harassment: “Why have you come to me now, seeing that you have been hostile to me?”4 Stunned by Isaac’s directness, Abimelech is forced to recognize God’s hand in Isaac’s prosperity, and swears a treaty between them that holds for future generations. The Torah underscores that the conflict has been finally put to rest: While Abimelech and Abraham merely parted ways after their treaty5 Isaac and Abimelech depart “in peace.”6

Just as Isaac had to finish the work left behind by the patriarch Abraham, we too often find that previous generations of iconic activists left us to resolve some of the greatest problems of global injustice, even after their groundbreaking achievements. Despite the freedoms gained by the historic fall of apartheid, South Africa today still faces tremendous xenophobia7 and racism,8 with many black citizens still living in abject poverty,9 marginalized in shantytowns and slums. We see this tension elsewhere too: Tremendous strides were made during the 1970s to reduce the number of people around the world who were hungry and malnourished, but in recent years, the commoditization of staple foods and the collapse of local agricultural systems have led to a world where more than 1 in 7 people are chronically food insecure.10 In many countries, thanks to the work of grassroots feminist organizations, the rights of women continue to advance; but many women around the world still face gender discrimination, and sexual violence is increasingly being used as a weapon of intimidation in armed conflicts.11

We have inherited an awe-inspiring legacy as well as profound problems left unresolved. Our task, like Isaac’s, is not to be intimidated by our predecessors’ renown, nor discouraged by the challenges they left behind. God’s blessing inspired Isaac to move the story forward despite the barriers, to find sustainable solutions to the problems that were left for his generation. It is up to us find the inspiration and confidence in our day to pick up where our predecessors left off, and to strive to leave the world “in peace.”


Rabbi Rachel Kahn-Troster is director of education and outreach for Rabbis for Human Rights—North America. She was ordained in 2008 from the Jewish Theological Seminary, where she also received her MA and BA in Midrash, and is a graduate of Barnard College. A teacher of Jews of all ages and a committed activist, Rachel was deeply inspired by her trip to El Salvador with AJWS in 2004. She is a contributor to the Jewish food sustainability blog The Jew and the Carrot and serves on the boards of Hazon and the National Religious Campaign Against Torture. Her writing has also appeared in Conservative Judaism, Sh’ma and Jvoices.com. Rachel can be reached at [e-mail].


1 Genesis 21:25 and 26:18-22.
2 Genesis 26: 19-22.
3 Genesis 26:24.
4 Genesis 26:27.
5 Genesis 21: 32.
6 Genesis 26: 31.
7 Madondo, Tafadzwa T. “South Africa: Xenophobia Déjà vu and Human Rights in South Africa.” allAfrica.com. 8 October 2009. http://allafrica.com/stories/200910080942.html
8 Malala, Justice. “South Africa: Racism runs deep.” BBC News. 30 August 2000. href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/903379.stm
9 “South Africa poverty ‘emergency.’” BBC News. 23 October 2008. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/7685253.stm
10 “Fighting Hunger from the Ground Up.” AJWS. http://ajws.org/hunger/campaign_at_a_glance.pdf
11 Kelemen, Michelle. “In War Zones, Rape Is A Powerful Weapon.” NPR. 21 October 2009. http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=114001201


©2009 American Jewish World Service. AJWS is committed to a pluralistic view of Judaism and honors the broadest spectrum of interpretation of our texts and traditions. The statements made and views expressed in this commentary are solely the responsibility of the author.

[Elaine Friedland]

Parshat Vayetze 5770
By Daniel Bloom
November 28, 2009



At the beginning of Parshat Vayezte, we encounter Jacob on the run from Esau, having tricked his brother out of the birthright. As night falls, Jacob rests for the night and has a startling prophetic dream involving angels ascending and descending a ladder between earth and heaven. During the dream God makes a number of promises to Jacob, concerning both his future well-being and that of his progeny.1 The following morning Jacob makes a neder, a vow, which largely parallels God's promises in the dream, but with several deviations which may grant insight into Jacob’s psychological state2:

The Dream Jacob's Vow
The land... I will give it to you and your descendants... All the families of the earth will be blessed through you and your descendants. -
Behold, I will be with you; If God will be with me,
I will watch over you wherever you go, And will watch over me on this path upon which I go,
- And will provide me with bread to eat and clothing to wear,
And I will return you to this land. And I will return in peace to my fathers house,
I will not leave you. The Lord will be for me a God.

The differences between Jacob’s neder and God’s promise reveal Jacob's fear for his personal security. He has exchanged the more general, long-term vision of God's blessing for more personal, immediate needs. God promises to “watch over you wherever you go,” while Jacob asks only for supervision of the path he currently walks. A promise to return to the land becomes a hope simply to return to his father's home in peace. The promise of descendents disappears completely from Jacob's response. Instead he asks only for the most basic sustenance and raiment.3

The events that led Jacob to this moment provide us with a backdrop to his anxiety. Jacob’s lack of security, and specifically his food insecurity, are the result of displacement from his home, having fled for his life due to the threat of Esau's violence. He no longer has access to his family's land or flocks, Esau's game meat, or for that matter, his mother's cooking. It is no wonder that Jacob the wanderer fears for where his next meal will come from.

This same desperation pervades the lives of millions of people around the globe today, where conflict, displacement and food insecurity are constant realities of life. In Democratic Republic of Congo over 800,000 people have been displaced by violence in the past year alone.4 As they remain in Congolese territory they are considered IDPs—Internally Displaced Persons, a limbo classification that does not carry the same protections as formal refugee status. Separated from their farmland and livelihoods, IDPs must seek alternative sources of food, often relying on already under-resourced local families or foreign aid. Development organizations in the region, including a number of AJWS grantees, themselves face a severe shortage in supplies and support as well as threats to their personal safety. Several IDP camps have experienced violent raids by militia, while food supplies have been stretched to the breaking point. Planted crops have been plundered and food aid deliveries are vulnerable to looting and disruption.

In situations like these, emergency relief groups save lives by addressing the short-term needs of IDPs. As we saw in Jacob’s response to God’s promises, when one’s immediate safety and security is threatened, it is natural and understandable to focus on the present. It is important, however, not to lose sight of the larger, longer-term vision and hope for the future. Grassroots organizations worldwide work to address issues that rapid relief cannot reach, such as restarting children’s education, helping people rebuild livelihoods and addressing profound psychological trauma. AJWS furthers this critical work in places like DRC by providing sustained, long-term support to organizations in the epicenter of conflicts, enabling communities to repair, over time, the deep rifts in society made by violence and war.

Jacob, in his moment of fear and insecurity, could only think of his own immediate survival, completely omitting any reference to descendents in his vow. But later in Bereshit, Jacob finds relative stability and establishes a family and a nation, fulfilling the divine promise that “all the families of the earth will be blessed through you and your descendants.” When we support contemporary organizations focusing on long-term goals and sustainability, we enable this blessing to replace appeals for bread and shelter, and help to build a world where future generations can dwell in security and prosperity.


Daniel Bloom is an Australian-born environmentalist who currently works as a program associate at Hazon. He has a degree in Jewish Studies from Monash University in Melbourne and also studied at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Daniel enjoys travel: he has backpacked through China and Southeast Asia and served as a volunteer English teacher in Danang, Vietnam. After moving to Israel, he studied for a year at Yeshivat Hamivtar before serving for six months in the Israeli Defense Forces. He currently lives with his wife in New York City. Daniel can be reached at [e-mail].


1 Bereshit 28:13-15.
2 Bereshit 28:20-22.
3 Klitsner, Shmuel. Wrestling Jacob: Deception, Identity and Freudian Slips in Genesis. Jerusalem: Urim Publications, 2006, pp. 84-90.
4 Internal Displacement Monitoring Center and the International and Norwegian Refugee Council. Massive displacement and deteriorating humanitarian conditions - Report on the DRC. Geneva, Switzerland: 12 August 2009. http://www.internal-displacement.org/8025708F004BE3B1/(httpInfoFiles)/F4917C682D08F52DC125761000509798/$file/DRC_overview_Aug09.pdf


©2009 American Jewish World Service. AJWS is committed to a pluralistic view of Judaism and honors the broadest spectrum of interpretation of our texts and traditions. The statements made and views expressed in this commentary are solely the responsibility of the author.

[Elaine Friedland]

Parshat Vayishlach 5770
By Aviva Presser Aiden
December 5, 2009


View the Dvar Tzedek online or in a printable format.
You may also subscribe to receive the Dvar Tzedek via e-mail and to the podcast on iTunes.

In Parshat Vayishlach, Dinah is captured and raped by Shechem, a local prince. Her father Jacob’s reaction is both puzzling and disturbing; he does nothing. Silent, he sits and waits for his sons to return from the pasture, where they are tending the family flocks.1

We can conceive of reasonable ways to explain Jacob’s behavior. Perhaps he wishes to confer with his family before entering a tricky, potentially danger-fraught negotiation or retaliation. Perhaps Jacob feels too weak to counter his daughter’s attacker alone, and so waits for his sons to produce a show of strength.

But these explanations seem out of character for the patriarch, for whom self-assured, individual action is the norm. Earlier in Vayishlach, when Esav confronts him with an army, Jacob acts decisively, strategically and without conferencing with his sons. In the following chapter, Jacob battles a Divine being entirely alone, and though he is injured in the process, Jacob wins, suggesting a great personal power. And if we should think that Jacob’s injuries weakened him, leaving him unable to face Dinah’s attacker, the text informs us that “Jacob came complete to the city of Shechem.”2

Given his history, it seems unlikely that, in the case of Dinah, Jacob feels the need for counsel or fears a lack of strength. This suggests another, more troubling reason for Jacob’s lack of response. Perhaps he simply does not care enough for Dinah to feel responsible for acting on her behalf. The text’s introduction of Dinah as “the daughter of Leah”3 hints at Jacob’s indifference towards her. Though outside her family she is viewed as Jacob’s daughter,4 perhaps Jacob did not feel compelled to defend the daughter of Leah, a wife he did not want and did not love.

Jacob’s apparent lack of empathy is not reserved exclusively for Dinah. He regularly disregards the safety of Leah’s other children. When Jacob is faced with famine, he sends her sons on a dangerous mission to acquire food, but does not send Benjamin, Rachel’s son.5 Later in the narrative, when Leah’s son Simon is taken captive in Egypt, Jacob leaves him to his fate, rather than complying with the demand to send Benjamin in order to save Simon. Jacob’s apparent indifference to these children of his unloved wife can explain his silence in the face of Dinah’s rape. He does not feel the empathy and connection that would have forced him to respond.

This deeply upsetting apathy is a challenge that still faces humanity today, enabling the prevalent sexual violence we observe in the modern world. The number of worldwide victims of sexual violence is incredibly high. In South Africa, a recent study suggests that in some provinces, 25 percent of men admit to rape.6 In Sudan, an estimated hundreds of women face sexual violence each day.7 Playwright and activist Eve Ensler writes that “the women of eastern Congo are enduring their 12th year of sexual terrorism. The girl children born of rape are now being raped.”8 According to the UN, 200,000 women, from very little girls to old women, have been raped during the ongoing violence there,9 and often without consequences. A fifteen-year-old girl who was kidnapped and raped for a month in the Congo describes that "No one came for me... No one from my family looked for me."10 And rape is not a crisis only in the Global South. Nearly 100,000 women in the United States are raped each year.11 Per capita, more than double that number are raped annually in Canada.12

Like Jacob, many of us remain, at least relatively, silent. Yet there are individuals who have broken Jacob’s age-old silence by devoting their lives and careers to addressing sexual violence. For a generation, Denis Mukwege, a Congolese gynecologist, has been a leader in treating women who have been raped at the Panzi hospital in the eastern DRC. Eric Reeve, a professor of English literature at Smith College, has spent the last decade researching the violence in Sudan and has been a passionate national and international advocate for women there.

Finding our own empathy is a tremendous challenge. The world is a very big place, and it is hard to feel a personal bond and responsibility for every contemporary Dinah around the globe. But our indignation at Jacob’s silence should be instructive, urging us to speak out in the face of the sexual violence in our time. It is an accident of birth that one of these girls is not personally beloved to us. Let us work to ensure they stay safe.


Aviva Presser Aiden a first-year medical student at Harvard Medical School, received her PhD from Harvard’s School of Engineering and Applied Sciences in 2009. She co-founded Bears Without Borders, an organization fostering economic opportunities among developing-world artisans, and is co-founder and CTO of Lebônê, a social enterprise developing microbial fuel cells as an off-grid energy and lighting solution for Africa. These initiatives have received significant public acclaim, including a novella inspired by Bears Without Borders and New York Times coverage of Lebônê’s technology. Aviva can be reached at [e-mail].


1 Genesis 34:1-5.
2 Genesis 33:18.
3 Genesis 34:1.
4 Genesis 34:3.
5 Genesis 42:4.
6 “South African rape survey shock.” BBC News, 18 June 2009. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8107039.stm
7 Video Introduction to UN Action Against Sexual Violence in Conflict. http://www.stoprapenow.org
8 Ensler, Eve. “A Broken U.N. Promise in Congo.” The Washington Post, 30 June 2009. http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/06/29/AR2...
9 “Congolese rape survivors break silence at UN-organized event.” UN News Centre, 12 September 2008. http://www.un.org/apps/news/story.asp?NewsID=28034&Cr=DRC&C...
10 Haddon, Dayle. “Congolese rape victim learns to smile again.” CNN.com, 22 January 2009. http://www.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/africa/10/15/congo.commentary/index.html
11 Department of Justice Federal Bureau of Investigation. “Crime in the United States: Forcible Rape.” 17 February 2006. http://www.fbi.gov/ucr/cius_04/offenses_reported/violent_crime/forc...
12 “Crime Statistics: Rapes (per capita and most recent) by country.” NationMaster.com. http://www.fbi.gov/ucr/cius_04/offenses_reported/violent_crime/forc...


©2009 American Jewish World Service. AJWS is committed to a pluralistic view of Judaism and honors the broadest spectrum of interpretation of our texts and traditions. The statements made and views expressed in this commentary are solely the responsibility of the author

[Elaine Friedland]

Parshat Miketz 5770
By Guy Izhak Austrian
December 19, 2009


View the Dvar Tzedek online or in a printable format.
You may also subscribe to receive the Dvar Tzedek via e-mail and to the podcast on iTunes.

We usually think of prayer as a way of connecting to God. But this week’s parshah suggests that prayer can also help us connect with other people and open the way toward tikkun—repairing brokenness in our world.

Parshat Miketz describes the slow, agonizing process of Joseph’s reunification with his brothers, who have come down to Egypt to plead for food. The Torah tells us: “Joseph recognized his brothers, but they did not recognize him.”1 The relationship between them, long broken since their bitter childhood, cannot be repaired so quickly. Joseph chooses not to reveal himself, taunting and testing his brothers and maintaining their estrangement.

Only when Benjamin, Joseph’s youngest and only full sibling, arrives in Egypt, is Joseph confronted with a deeper recognition of brotherhood. Choking up, he utters a short prayer of blessing:
"May God be gracious to you, my boy." With that, Joseph hurried out, for his compassionate feelings grew hot toward his brother, and he needed to cry; he went into a room and he cried there (vayevk). Then he washed his face and returned; restraining himself, he gave the order [to his servants]: "Put out bread." They served him by himself, and them by themselves...2
The encounter with Benjamin stirs Joseph’s compassion, but the short prayer cracks it open. Suddenly he feels the pain of disconnectedness from his family and is able to empathize with his brothers’ hunger and powerlessness. And yet, Joseph hides his cries. Determined to maintain his distance and power, he stifles his own emotions and offers only a terse order to give bread. He cannot and will not sit and eat with his brothers. How familiar is this feeling to those of us who see suffering or poverty and yet hold our full selves back from such an encounter, content instead merely to give a bit of tzedakah!

And yet: “vayevk—and he cried.” This powerful word reappears at two crucial junctures in the next parshah. The first comes when Joseph finally reveals himself to his brothers. He allows his emotions to break free; he still tries to hide his cries, but the Egyptians outside the room hear him sobbing.3 The second comes when Joseph reunites with his father Jacob, apparently in full view of many others. At this moment of reconciliation, the process of recognition and reunification reaches its fulfillment.4

A 19th-century Hasidic text, The Well of Living Waters, illuminates how prayer can be a model for tikkun olam. Commenting on the verse in which Joseph begins to recognize his brothers, it cites a teaching by Rabbi Isaac Luria, one of the founders of 16th-century kabbalah. Luria explains why the central prayer of Judaism, the amidah, must first be said silently, before being repeated out loud:
So it is in the way of holiness: it both disappears and is revealed. And in a place that requires full repair (tikkun) and unification (yichud), at first the unification needs to be in secret... But afterward, when the unification has been effected quietly, then one is able to raise one's voice and to effect the unification, revealed to the eyes of all.5
Luria, a mystic, believed that prayer (like other mitzvot) unlocks the Divine light in our broken world and reunites it with its Divine Source. The author of The Well of Living Waters argues that just as the amidah must begin silently and then become loud in order to achieve tikkun, so too Joseph’s recognition of his brothers must unfold gradually, from hidden and stifled to public and open. As this recognition grows, so does its expression in Joseph’s cries, until full tikkun and yichud—repair and reunification—are achieved.6

We can learn from the tikkun in Joseph’s relationship with his family that sometimes the commitment to pursue justice also needs to unfold within us in stages. Justice is—or would be—the ultimate result of a full recognition of our common humanity with others, and thus, our responsibility for others. That recognition often begins quietly within our consciousness: stirred by an encounter with another person, it may then be unlocked or revealed to us through prayer. Unsettled, we may seek to stifle this growing knowledge because of its profound implications. Some time may pass before our changes in consciousness lead to changes in our outward behavior.

Yet we are obligated to emerge eventually from our silence; to cry out against injustice, and take action. Just as the public repetition of the amidah must follow its silent recitation, external advocacy and action are the necessary consequences of our internal awakening. Our actions can then lead to the repair of brokenness, to the release of hidden Divine light and to a closer unity between this world and its Divine ideal.7


Guy Izhak Austrian is a community organizer and 2nd-year rabbinical student at the Jewish Theological Seminary. He first saw an integrated model of community, spirituality and social justice while working at a Latino immigrant workers’ center, as part of his 10-plus years of experience in social change movements. Hoping to develop such a model with Jews, he worked at the Jewish Council on Urban Affairs in Chicago and Congregation B’nai Jeshurun in New York City and decided to pursue the rabbinate. This year he will be in Jerusalem, studying at the Schechter Rabbinical Seminary and living with his life partner, Rabbi Jill Jacobs and their daughter Lior. Guy can be reached at [e-mail].


1 Genesis 42:8.
2 Genesis 43:29-32.
3 Genesis 45:1-2, 14-16.
4 Genesis 46:29.
5 Thirer, Chayim. Sefer Be’er Mayim Chayim, comment on Genesis 42:8.
6 For the connection between prayer and weeping, see I Samuel 1:10, where Hannah prays for a child: “In her wretchedness, she prayed (vatitpallel) to God, weeping all the while (uvacho tivkeh).” The Talmud presents Hannah as an essential model for how to pray (Brachot 30a-b).
7 A midrash suggests that this dynamic also has a collective, communal dimension: “As Joseph became reconciled to his brothers by means of weeping, so too will the Holy Blessed One redeem Israel from the midst of weeping” (Genesis Rabbah 93:12 on Genesis 45:14).


©2009 American Jewish World Service. AJWS is committed to a pluralistic view of Judaism and honors the broadest spectrum of interpretation of our texts and traditions. The statements made and views expressed in this commentary are solely the responsibility of the author.

[Elaine Friedland]

Parshat Vayigash 5770
By Rabbi Rachel Kahn-Troster
December 26, 2009


Sometimes the best of intentions can lead to tragic outcomes. In Parshat Vayigash, Joseph has his hands full managing the seven years of catastrophic famine that have followed seven years of prosperity.1 The Egyptian people are starving while Pharaoh has food, having stored much of the harvest during years of plenty. But the people’s ability to buy grain disappears along with their savings. The famine has yet to play out its course, so Joseph begins to collect their possessions for the king: first their livestock, then their land and finally their personhood.2 To avoid death, the Egyptian people become slaves to Pharaoh, foreshadowing the Israelite enslavement in Exodus.

Despite our own moral indignation that the price of avoiding starvation is slavery, The Torah does not condemn Joseph for his actions. The commentator Nahum Sarna suggests that the biblical text “shift[s] the onus of responsibility for the fate of the peasants from Joseph to the Egyptians themselves. The peasants initiate the idea of their own enslavement (v. 19) and even express gratitude when it is implemented!”3

Many traditional Jewish commentators see Joseph’s strategy as an example of his successful leadership and are silent on its moral implications, but modern commentators are deeply uncomfortable with Joseph’s approach. Some suggest that the Egyptians’ subsequent enslavement of the Israelites stems from their memory of this time: they can remember only their servitude and not their escape from starvation.4 The ethicist Leon Kass is even more directly critical, condemning Joseph for introducing into Egypt the idea that human beings can be owned by the state:
Israel is...cursed by Joseph’s policies...Joseph’s consolidation of Pharaoh’s power will result in the practice of wholesale slavery. Thanks to Joseph’s agrarian policies, Egypt is transformed into a nation of slaves and Pharaoh becomes Egypt’s absolute master.5
Another problematic aspect of Joseph’s “solution” is the long-term impact, which extends a system of indebtedness and servitude to future generations.6 For all of these reasons, Joseph’s moral choices leave a lot to be desired.

Unfortunately, intergenerational debt bondage is not just an ancient problem. This form of slavery is the most prevalent found today, with more than half of all modern slaves serving as bonded laborers. And while the problem is most rampant in India and southeast Asia, incidents of debt bondage can be found around the world.7 Like Egypt’s seven years of famine, debt bondage often starts with a short-term financial crisis. Faced with an urgent medical issue or a lackluster harvest, a person borrows a small sum. Additional fees, interest and penalties balloon the debt beyond its original size. Unable to repay the loan, the borrower becomes enslaved to his or her creditor, who might also sell the children of the debtor against the debt.8 One could argue the biblical rationalization that bonded individuals enslaved themselves as a solution to an emergent crisis. But no one faced with starvation or a critically ill family member could envision that the act of taking a loan would lead to generations of enslavement, violence and poverty.

Debt bondage remains largely invisible to the average consumer, but we all benefit from it. Slave-produced goods are ubiquitous in American markets. In September, the United States Department of Labor released a list of 122 goods produced in 58 countries and imported to the United States that are the work of child or forced labor.9 These include some imports of everyday products like cotton, coffee, sugarcane and cocoa.

As consumers of these goods, we are complicit in modern slavery; however, we can also use our consumption choices to end it. For example, we can buy fair trade goods, which reward employers who pay an honest, living wage. AJWS has partnered with Equal Exchange to sell kosher-certified fair trade coffee and chocolate,10 two industries that have long been plagued with slave labor. There are also other forms of certification that promote a slavery-free supply chain, such as the new Free 2 Work campaign, which rates corporations based on their use of slave-free labor.11

Corporate responsibility and government action are also critical to ending modern slavery. We can reward companies that eradicate slave labor from their products, for example, by lobbying our 401k funds to invest only in companies that have a transparent supply chain. We must also urge government officials to require trade partners to take anti-slavery actions,12 and lobby for the reauthorization of the Trafficking Victims Protection Act, which includes provisions for the detection, liberation and treatment of both domestic and international slaves.

With all of the prosperity of today’s world, no one should be forced to make the choice that lay before the Egyptians of Joseph’s day: freedom or starvation—especially when the consequences can potentially last for generations. But we can interrupt this cycle through the choices we make as consumers and the steps we take as activists. If we simply open our eyes to the injustice in our midst, we can see the path towards ending slavery in our lifetime.


Rabbi Rachel Kahn-Troster is director of education and outreach for Rabbis for Human Rights—North America. She was ordained in 2008 from the Jewish Theological Seminary, where she also received her MA and BA in Midrash, and is a graduate of Barnard College. A teacher of Jews of all ages and a committed activist, Rachel was deeply inspired by her trip to El Salvador with AJWS in 2004. She is a contributor to the Jewish food sustainability blog The Jew and the Carrot and serves on the boards of Hazon and the National Religious Campaign Against Torture. Her writing has also appeared in Conservative Judaism, Sh’ma and Jvoices.com. Rachel can be reached at [e-mail].


1 Genesis 47: 13
2 Genesis 47: 14-19.
3 Sarna, Nahum. The JPS Torah Commentary: Genesis. The Jewish Publication Society: New York, 1984, p. 323.
4 Berlin, Adele and Marc Zvi Brettler, ed. The Jewish Study Bible. Oxford University Press: New York, 2004, p. 93. Comment by Jon D. Levenson.
5 Kass, Leon. The Beginning of Wisdom: Reading Genesis. University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 2006, p. 630
6 Genesis 47: 26. Ad hayom hazeh (“which is still valid”). Translation: JPS.
7 Bales, Kevin. Disposable People: New Slavery in the Global Economy. Revised 2004 edition. University of California Press: Berkeley, 2004, pp. 8-9.
8 Bales, pp. 16-17.
9 The Department of Labor’s List of Goods Produced by Child or Forced Labor: Report Required by the Trafficking Victims Protection Reauthorization Acts of 2005 and 2008. The United States Department of Labor, Bureau of International Labor Affairs, and the Office of Child Labor, Forced Labor and Human Trafficking. http://www.dol.gov/ilab/programs/ocft/PDF/2009TVPRA.pdf
10 To buy these “Better Beans,” visit http://www.equalexchange.coop/ajws.
11 “Free2work.” www.free2work.org/home
12 Bales, Kevin. Ending slavery: How we free today’s slaves. University of California Press: Berkeley, 2007, p. 138.



©2009 American Jewish World Service. AJWS is committed to a pluralistic view of Judaism and honors the broadest spectrum of interpretation of our texts and traditions. The statements made and views expressed in this commentary are solely the responsibility of the author.

[Elaine Friedland]

Parshat Vayechi 5770
By Daniel Bloom
January 2, 2010



In Parshat Vayechi, we find a fascinating examination of complex relations amid a family struggling to move beyond the sins of the past. Much has changed since the traumatic incident decades earlier, when Joseph’s brothers plotted to kill him, eventually selling him into slavery. Now, after Jacob’s death, and with Joseph occupying a position of power, the brothers fear vengeance. They say:
“Perhaps Joseph will nurse hatred against us and then he will surely repay us all the evil that we did him.” So they instructed that Joseph be told, “Your father gave orders before his death, saying: 'Thus shall you say to Joseph: “Please, kindly forgive the spiteful deed of your brothers and sin for they have done you evil.”1
Although their major motivation may be fear, the brothers make two important steps toward reconciliation: confessing their wrongdoing and asking for forgiveness. The brothers’ request for forgiveness, however, is enacted in a strangely impersonal and roundabout manner, requesting that a third party retell the instructions of Jacob to Joseph. Additionally, these instructions, the sages inform us, are a fictional invention, part of the Torah's testament to the “greatness of peace”—such that truth can be skewed in order to bring about peace between brothers.2 The brothers employ indirect, even devious means in their attempt to establish peace, yet their approach appears to be sanctioned by the Torah text.

In response Joseph weeps and assuages the brothers’ fear, telling them:
“Fear not, for am I instead of God? Although you intended me harm, God intended it for good: in order to accomplish—it is as clear as this day—that a vast people be kept alive. So now, fear not—I will sustain you and your young ones.”3
Joseph chooses to tell a different version of past events, minimizing his brothers’ malice while instead focusing on the beneficial final outcome. He reassures them that their sin was ‘for good’ in a historic sense, and promises them that he will look after their needs. Interestingly, Joseph leaves out any explicit mention of forgiveness—which is, after all, what the brothers were seeking—and nowhere do we find any of the words associated with atonement or expiation. It is clear Joseph wants to move on from the issue and has managed to reinterpret and rationalize prior events. Whether or not the rupture with his family was ever completely restored, remains a question.

By adopting their own subtle balance between confronting and suppressing earlier events, the biblical family was able to work through the traumas of the past. Similar approaches are utilized today in recovering from some of the profound family traumas caused by war. Today, an estimated 300,000 children are engaged in warfare4 around the globe—many having been abducted from their families or forced under threat of violence to join a militia group. These children visit the most destructive sins upon members of their own communities, and sometimes, their own families. To be sure, unlike Joseph's brothers, who were driven by jealousy, child soldiers act not out of any personal motivation, but because they are exploited and forced against their will. Elias, a former Congolese child soldier testifies: “We were often asked to kill people. I witnessed some of my fellow child soldiers being ordered to kill their parents or be killed themselves.”5

Those children fortunate enough to outlive their armed conflicts then face the challenges of reintegration. Returning to their home communities, demobilized child soldiers must encounter those against whom they were forced to commit violent acts, possibly within their own families. Even if the soldiers are accepted back into their families, tension and trauma persist.

In some post-conflict and post-genocide communities, there is a focus on truth and justice, an effort to document wrongdoing and hold the perpetrators accountable. Although noble in intention, the process of uncovering the truth—especially when it concerns atrocities committed by brothers against brothers—may in fact exacerbate lingering ethnic, political or personal hostilities. In some cases, therefore, the search for truth takes a back seat in the pursuit of reconciliation, leaving stories untold and crimes unprosecuted in the hope of allowing communities to move forward. Certainly, there is no one model that fits all circumstances, but some combination of approaches may be effective in each particular case.

In the story of Joseph and his brothers, we find a delicate interplay of confessing and concealing, dwelling upon and moving on. Overcoming fraternal violence is indeed complex and challenging, and resentment and trauma may be difficult to overcome. The biblical text, with its ambiguity, multiple approaches for achieving reconciliation and, above all, focus on establishing peace, provides us with a kind of script for achieving reconciliation in the many areas of conflict in our world. Pursuing peace in this way, prioritizing resolution over continuing tension, enables us to fulfill the words of the psalmist: “How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in harmony.”6


Daniel Bloom is an Australian-born environmentalist who currently works as a program associate at Hazon. He has a degree in Jewish Studies from Monash University in Melbourne and also studied at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Daniel enjoys travel: he has backpacked through China and Southeast Asia and served as a volunteer English teacher in Danang, Vietnam. After moving to Israel, he studied for a year at Yeshivat Hamivtar before serving for six months in the Israeli Defense Forces. He currently lives with his wife in New York City. Daniel can be reached at [e-mail].


1 Bereshit 50:15-17.
2 Talmud Bavli, Yevamot 65b.
3 Bereshit 50:19-21.
4 “United Movement to End Child Soldiering.” http://www.endchildsoldiering.org/3100.htm
5 Adow, Mohammed. “Atrocities Haunt DRC Child Soldiers.” 24 October 2009. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dMlw0ImePV0
6 Psalms 133:1.


©2009 American Jewish World Service. AJWS is committed to a pluralistic view of Judaism and honors the broadest spectrum of interpretation of our texts and traditions. The statements made and views expressed in this commentary are solely the responsibility of the author.