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that He has been guiding our steps 
all along. Initially Joseph had flaws 
in his character. He was vain about 
his appearance; he brought his 
father evil reports about his broth-
ers; his narcissism led directly to 
the advances of Potiphar’s wife. 
But the story of which he was a 
part was not a Greek tragedy. By 
its end — the death of Joseph in 
the final chapter of Genesis — he 
had become a different human 
being entirely, one who forgave his 
brothers the crime they committed 
against him, the man who saved 
an entire region from famine and 
starvation, the one Jewish tradi-
tion calls “the tzaddik.”
Don’t think you understand the 
story of your life at half-time. That 
is the lesson of Joseph. At the age 
of 29 he would have been justified 
in thinking his life an abject fail-
ure: hated by his brothers, criti-
cized by his father, sold as a slave, 
imprisoned on a false charge and 
with his one chance of freedom 
gone.
The second half of the story 
shows us that Joseph’s life was not 
like that at all. His became a tale 
of unprecedented success, not 
only politically and materially, but 
also morally and spiritually. He 
became the first person in record-
ed history to forgive. By saving the 
region from famine, he became the 
first in whom the promise made 
by God to Abraham came true: 
“Through you, all the families of 
the land will be blessed” (Gen. 
12:3). There was no way of pre-
dicting how the story would end 
on the basis of the events narrated 
in parshat Vayeshev. The turn-
ing point in his life was a highly 
improbable event that could not 
have been predicted but which 
changed all else, not just for him 
but for large numbers of people 
and for the eventual course of 
Jewish history. God’s hand was at 
work, even when Joseph felt aban-
doned by every human being he 
had encountered.
We live life forward but we see 

the role of Providence in our lives 
only looking back. That is the 
meaning of God’s words to Moses: 
“You will see My back” (Ex. 33:23), 
meaning, “You will see Me only 
when you look back.”
Joseph’s story is a precise rever-
sal of the narrative structure of 
Sophocles’ Oedipus. Everything 
Laius and his son Oedipus do to 
avert the tragic fate announced by 
the oracle in fact brings it closer to 
fulfilment, whereas in the story of 
Joseph, every episode that seems 
to be leading to tragedy turns out 
in retrospect to be a necessary step 
to saving lives and the fulfilment 
of Joseph’s dreams.
Judaism is the opposite of trag-
edy. It tells us that every bad fate 
can be averted (hence our prayer 
on the High Holy Days that “pen-
itence, prayer and charity avert 
the evil decree”) — while every 
positive promise made by God will 
never be undone.

REFUSAL TO DESPAIR 
Hence the life-changing idea: 
Despair is never justified. Even 
if your life has been scarred by 
misfortune, lacerated by pain, and 
your chances of happiness seem 
gone forever, there is still hope. 
The next chapter of your life can 
be full of blessings. You can be, in 
Wordsworth’s lovely phrase, “sur-
prised by joy.”
Every bad thing that has hap-
pened to you thus far may be the 
necessary prelude to the good 
things that are about to happen 
because you have been strength-
ened by suffering and given cour-
age by your ability to survive. That 
is what we learn from the heroes 
of endurance from Joseph to the 
Holocaust survivors of today, who 
kept going, had faith, refused to 
despair, and were privileged to 
write a new and different chapter 
in the book of their lives.
Seen through the eye of faith, 
today’s curse may be the beginning 
of tomorrow’s blessing. That is a 
thought that can change a life. 

The Angel Within
I

n Vayeshev, Yosef, a young man 
unjustly imprisoned, finds him-
self interpreting the dreams of 
Pharaoh’s cupbearer and baker. 
To the cupbearer, Yosef offers 
a hopeful message: “In three 
days, you will be restored to 
your position. But please, Ki 
im zechartani — if only you 
would remember me and 
mention me to Pharaoh.
”
Why “Ki im” (If only)? It 
seems almost like a condition. 
But Yosef was in no position to 
make demands. What was he 
trying to convey?
Yosef was telling the cup-
bearer, “You think you’re here because 
of your mistake, a fly in Pharaoh’s 
wine. But that’s illogical, it’s beyond 
your control if a fly should land in his 
cup after you presented it to him. You 
are here because of me. Your entire 
journey — your time in prison and 
return to the palace — is not an acci-
dent. It is for one purpose: to bring me 
out of this pit.
”
This is about each of us. Often, we 
think of ourselves as the center of 
the narrative, wondering, “Why am 
I here? What is this about me?” But 
sometimes we are not Yosef; we are the 
cupbearer. We are placed in situations 
not for our own sake, but to serve 
a greater purpose — to bring about 
someone else’s salvation.
Perhaps you’ve experienced ill-
ness, financial difficulty, loss. These 
moments are painful, but what if 
your struggle has prepared you to be 
there for someone else in need? That 

moment is your “Ki im zechartani” — 
you are not just suffering for yourself, 
but for the sake of helping others.
This theme of Divine purpose 
echoes through our celebrations 
of Chanukah next week. The 
story is a deeper lesson in per-
spective. When the Maccabees 
reclaimed the Temple and found 
only a small jug of oil, enough 
for just one day; they could have 
focused on the lack of oil and 
feared there was no hope. But that 
wasn’t the real point of the story.
God allowed them to face this 
challenge, knowing that their 
scarcity would set the stage for 
a miraculous event. This was Divine 
intention. God ensured that the light 
of the menorah would shine not only 
for that generation but for generations 
to come.
As we approach the festival of lights, 
ask “Who am I here for?” Open your 
eyes to the needs around you. You may 
find that you are not the one waiting 
for angels, but rather, you are the angel 
sent to help others. You illuminate the 
path for those in need, a light for oth-
ers in their darkest times.
We are all part of something greater. 
Every challenge, every struggle and 
every moment of our lives serves a 
higher purpose. Remember, some-
times you are not here for yourself; 
you are here for someone else. Is there 
anything greater than being from the 
Givers? 

Rabbi Josef Abadi is rabbi of Keter Torah 

Synagogue in West Bloomfield.

TORAH PORTION

Rabbi Josef 
Abadi

Parshat 

Vayeshev: 

Genesis 37:1-

40:23; Amos 

2:6-3:8.