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Potiphar Chose Prison to Hide His Wife's Shame

The traders were selling a free man and Potiphar knew it. He demanded a guarantor, paid them anyway, and took the boy home for himself.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Traders Were Selling the Wrong Man
  2. God Broke the Teeth of the Bear
  3. What She Said in the Dark
  4. I Know That You Did Not Do This
  5. The Silver Came Back Around
Potiphar Chose Prison to Hide His Wife's Shame Click for full size

The Traders Were Selling the Wrong Man

Potiphar stopped in the road, looked at the youth the Ishmaelites had for sale, and did not reach for his purse. The arrangement sat backwards. In every market he had ever done business in, the pale men of the north sold the dark men of Cush. Here the sellers were sons of Hagar and the merchandise had the skin and the manners of a free man's son.

"This is no slave," he said.

He made them produce a guarantor before he paid, somebody who would answer for the boy if a father ever came looking. The traders found one. Potiphar counted out the silver and walked Joseph home, and the whole sale sat crooked from top to bottom: a man descended from Canaan buying, the sons of a maidservant selling, and a free man walking away as property of them both.

He was an officer of Pharaoh and a fattener of calves for the idols, and the shrine he served was Baal Peor, where worship took a form no Egyptian gentleman described at his own table. He had not bought a steward. He had bought a boy he wanted for himself.

God Broke the Teeth of the Bear

A man keeps a she-bear in his yard. The bear starts killing his children. He does not sell it and he does not weep over it. He says, "Break its teeth."

God did that to Potiphar. He bought Joseph for his bed and woke up a eunuch. The officer of Pharaoh had paid for a body and lost the use of his own, and the boy he wanted went on moving through the rooms of the house untouched.

The house did not suffer for the purchase. Slaves ruin the households they enter. This one did the reverse, and the Lord blessed the house of the Egyptian for Joseph's sake (Genesis 39:5). Slaves are watched for theft, and this one would one day gather every coin of silver in Egypt and carry it into Pharaoh's treasury without palming a shekel. Slaves are watched around the women of the house. She spoke to him day after day and he would not listen.

Potiphar handed him everything and stopped counting it.

What She Said in the Dark

His wife had stopped counting too. What she wanted out of her husband was not a verdict. It was a picture planted in his head where he could not get at it.

Rabbi Abahu found the place where she put it. She said it in bed. She lay with Potiphar, and while he held her she said, "This is what your slave does to me."

Not once. Whenever she needed him angry.

Then came the torn garment left in her hand, the household called in, and the public version of the same sentence. "Your slave did to me in this manner." His wrath was enflamed (Genesis 39:19). Any master's would be. No house holds a mistress who has been refused and the steward who did the refusing.

I Know That You Did Not Do This

If Potiphar had believed her, Joseph would have been dead before dark. An officer of Pharaoh needed no court to kill a Hebrew slave who had put a hand on his wife. What he had instead were years of accounts that always balanced, servants who had watched the woman work, and his own hands, which had signed the household over to a man who kept handing it back.

He walked Joseph to the prison where the king's prisoners were kept (Genesis 39:20), and on the way he told him the truth.

"I know that you did not do this."

Then he turned the key.

Free the slave and every street in Egypt reads the verdict backwards. The master knows his wife lied. The master knows what his wife is. That word travels to the market by evening and into his daughters' marriages the season after, and it does not die when he does. So the man who believed Joseph chose the cell, to hide his wife's shame from the street and keep the word off his children. The price of that choice was another man's youth.

The Silver Came Back Around

Joseph came out of that cell into Pharaoh's court, and years later he gave a steward an order before dawn. Fill their sacks with as much grain as the men can carry. Put every man's silver back at the mouth of his sack. Put my silver goblet in the sack of the youngest (Genesis 44:1-2). Morning broke, the brothers rode out with their donkeys, and a planted theft rode out behind them.

He had learned in Potiphar's house what a staged crime can do. His master had used one to bury something true. Joseph used one to drag something up: whether the men who had sold a brother for silver would ride home and leave the youngest to the guards.

The news went through Pharaoh's house that Joseph's brothers had come, and it was good in Pharaoh's eyes and in the eyes of his servants (Genesis 45:16). A whole court glad about the arrival of a family of shepherds.

As for the officer who bought him at the roadside, Joseph married his daughter. Their own daughter married Elazar son of Aaron, and at that table she ate the priest's portion. A master feeds his slave. This master's line ate from his slave's hand.


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The texts behind this telling. Some cards carry a translation of the source; others are our own retelling of it, and each card says which. Every card links out to the original.

Bereshit Rabbah 87:9Bereshit Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

The familiar story is this: Potiphar's wife tries to seduce Joseph, he resists, and then, scorned, she falsely accuses him, leading to his imprisonment. But the ancient rabbis, never ones to shy away from the juicy details, delve a little deeper.

(Genesis 39:19) tells us, "It was when his master heard the words of his wife that she spoke to him, saying: Your slave did to me in this manner. His wrath was enflamed." Seems straightforward. But Rabbi Abahu, in Bereshit Rabbah 87, offers a rather… provocative interpretation of the phrase "in this manner."

He suggests, and Can you imagine? She would be intimate with Potiphar and whisper, "This is what your slave would do to me." Or perhaps, in this case, injury to insult.

Let's move on to Joseph's fate. (Genesis 39:20) states, "Joseph's master took him, and placed him in the prison, the place where the king's prisoners were incarcerated, and he was there in the prison." Seems like a clear-cut case of believing his wife.

The Rabbis suggest Potiphar didn't entirely believe his wife's story. Bereshit Rabbah implies that Potiphar knew Joseph was innocent! So why imprison him?

The text suggests Potiphar reasoned, "I know that you did not do this.." If Potiphar truly believed his wife, he would have undoubtedly killed Joseph. But he didn't. Instead, he chose imprisonment. Why? It was to avoid bringing shame upon his children.

The reasoning goes that if he didn't punish Joseph, everyone would assume Potiphar knew his wife was lying, thus branding her as a harlot. And that stigma, that shame, would then attach itself to his children. So, in a twisted way, Potiphar's decision was a calculated move to protect his family's reputation, even at the expense of an innocent man's freedom.

It's a fascinating glimpse into the complexities of honor, reputation, and the lengths people will go to protect their families, even when faced with difficult truths.

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Bereshit Rabbah 86:3Bereshit Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

The familiar story is this: Joseph, sold into slavery in Egypt. But the Rabbis in Bereshit Rabbah (86) ask us to consider this: "“[Potiphar…an Egyptian man,] purchased him [from the Ishmaelites].”" Seems straightforward. But the Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary) immediately throws a curveball: “those who were acquired were acquiring.” What does that mean?

The commentary unpacks this seeming contradiction. The Ishmaelites, descended from Hagar, Sarah's maidservant, and the Egyptians, descendants of Ham, of whom it is stated: “A slave of slaves he shall be to his brothers” (Genesis 9:25), were technically of lower status than Joseph. They were the ones buying and selling Joseph, but the Midrash suggests they should have been the ones being bought and sold! Normally, a slave damages the master's household. But Joseph? "The Lord blessed the house of the Egyptian for Joseph’s sake” (Genesis 39:5). Slaves are suspected of theft, but Joseph "collected all the silver…[Joseph brought the silver to Pharoah’s house]” (Genesis 47:14). Slaves are suspected of licentiousness, but Joseph resists temptation, saying “But he did not heed her” (Genesis 39:10).

Rabbi Yehoshua of Sikhnin, in the name of Rabbi Levi, takes it a step further. Normally, a master feeds terumah (the priestly offering) to their slave, but Joseph, through his descendants, ends up feeding terumah to his former master! Rabbi Yehoshua ben Korḥa explains that Elazar, son of Aaron, married Potiphar's granddaughter (Joseph married Potiphar’s daughter, according to this tradition). Since she was part of the priestly family, she could partake in terumah. Mind. Blown.

The Midrash even explores the name "Potiphar," linking it to idolatry. He's called both "Potiphar" (פּוֹטִיפַר) and "Potifera" (פּוֹטִיפֶרַע) (Genesis 41:45). Potiphar, they say, is "because he would fatten [mefatem] calves for idol worship." Potifera, "because he would defecate [pore’a atzmo] for idol worship." Yes, you read that right. Defecation was apparently part of the ritual for Baal Peor (see Sanhedrin 60b).

Then comes a truly wild interpretation. When the "bull" (par) – Joseph, who is likened to a bull (Deuteronomy 33:17) – descended there, Potiphar became wealthy. Or, another interpretation says, he became an officer, or even a eunuch! "The official of [seris] Pharaoh" – he was castrated [nistares]. The Midrash suggests that Potiphar bought Joseph for sexual purposes, but God intervened and castrated him! It's a rather graphic analogy to a she-bear that killed its master's children, whose teeth were broken to prevent further harm.

This divine intervention, the Midrash argues, exemplifies the verse: “For the Lord loves justice [and does not forsake] His pious ones [ḥasidav]” (Psalms 37:28). But here's the kicker: the word ḥasidav, "His pious ones," is written in some versions with only one vav, such that it can be read ḥasido, “His pious one,” in the singular. Who is that pious one? Joseph.

The Midrash continues, “They are guarded forever, while the seed of the wicked is cut off” (Psalms 37:28) – further emphasizing the idea that Potiphar's intentions were thwarted by God.

Finally, the Midrash explores Potiphar's cleverness. Why would a Cushite (referring to the Ishmaelites, perhaps due to their darker complexion) be selling a "German" (a white man, referring to Joseph)? Potiphar suspected something was up. He demanded a guarantor, connecting the word "from [miyad] the Ishmaelites" to the idea of a guarantee, as in (Genesis 43:9): “I will guarantee him, [from me [miyadi] you can demand him].”

Rabbi Levi sums it up beautifully: a slave (Potiphar, descended from the cursed Canaan) purchased, the son of a maidservant (the Ishmaelites, descendants of Hagar) sold, and a free man (Joseph) was a slave to both of them. The whole situation is upside down!

So, what do we take away from this deep dive into Bereshit Rabbah? They're filled with layers of meaning, inviting us to question assumptions, explore hidden connections, and ultimately, to see the hand of God working in mysterious ways, even in the midst of human drama and injustice. It encourages us to look beyond the surface narrative and consider the deeper implications of power, status, and divine intervention. It's a story that keeps on giving, long after the initial reading.

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Bereshit Rabbah 92:6Bereshit Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

Take the story of Joseph and his brothers in Egypt. We know Joseph, now a powerful Egyptian official, tests his brothers after years of separation. He orders his steward to fill their sacks with grain, secretly return their money, and then, adding insult to potential injury, plant his silver goblet in Benjamin's sack (Genesis 44:1-2).

Why all the elaborate staging? What's the point of this intricate setup involving sacks, money, and a missing goblet?

The Torah tells us, "Morning broke, and the men were dispatched, they and their donkeys" (Genesis 44:3). The phrase, "He commanded the one in charge of his house…Morning broke…," seems like a straightforward transition. But Rabbi Levi, in Bereshit Rabbah, saw something deeper in this seemingly simple phrase. He uses it to tell a story about an innkeeper in the South – in the land of Judah, to be precise – who was up to no good.

This innkeeper, would get up in the middle of the night, all dressed and ready, and urge his guests to leave. He’d even promise to arrange a caravan for their safety. Sounds nice. Wrong. As Rabbi Levi tells it, these caravans were ambushes. The innkeeper was in cahoots with robbers! They'd plunder the travelers and then split the loot with him. A real piece of work, this guy.

One time, Rabbi Meir himself happened to stay at this inn. The innkeeper, following his usual routine, tried to get Rabbi Meir to leave in the middle of the night, promising a safe caravan. But Rabbi Meir, ever the wise one, wasn’t buying it. "I have a brother," he said, "and I'm waiting for him. He's at the synagogue."

The innkeeper, persistent in his wicked scheme, asked for his brother's name, offering to go fetch him. "Ki tov," Rabbi Meir replied. Ki tov, Hebrew for "that it was good." All night long, the innkeeper shouted "Ki tov, Ki tov" at the entrance of the synagogue, but of course, no one answered.

In the morning, as Rabbi Meir prepared to leave, the innkeeper, confused and frustrated, asked about this elusive brother. Rabbi Meir, with a sly smile, replied, "He has arrived: 'God saw the light, that it was good [ki tov]' (Genesis 1:4)."

So, what’s the connection between Joseph's elaborate plot and Rabbi Meir’s encounter with the crooked innkeeper? Rabbi Levi is using this seemingly extraneous phrase, "He commanded the one in charge of his house…Morning broke…," to highlight the importance of discerning appearances. Just as the innkeeper's offer of a caravan seemed helpful but was actually deceitful, so too, the events in Joseph's story have layers of meaning.

Sometimes, things aren't always as they seem. Joseph's actions might appear cruel or manipulative, but ultimately, they serve a higher purpose: to test his brothers' repentance and ensure the survival of his family.

Rabbi Levi's story reminds us to look beyond the surface, to be wary of false promises, and to trust in the light of truth, even when it's hidden in the darkness. Like Joseph, sometimes we have to create elaborate scenarios to reveal what's truly in people's hearts. And like Rabbi Meir, we need to be clever enough to see through deception and find the good that lies within. Ki tov,.

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Bereshit Rabbah 94:1Bereshit Rabbah

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.The Sefaria Midrash Rabbah, 2022 · CC-BY

Bereshit Rabbah turns to Pharaoh Rejoices When Joseph's Brothers Arrive.

The verse in (Genesis 45:16) tells us, "The news was heard in Pharaoh's house, saying: Joseph's brothers have come; and it was good in the eyes of Pharaoh, and the eyes of his servants.” But Bereshit Rabbah, that incredible collection of rabbinic interpretations of Genesis, sees much more hidden within these words. It uses the imagery of the Song of Songs to paint a portrait of the patriarchs and Joseph himself.

The verse in (Song of Songs 6:9), "One is my faultless dove," is interpreted as referring to Abraham. Why Abraham? Because, as (Ezekiel 33:24) states, "Abraham was one." He was unique, a singular figure who dared to challenge the idolatrous world around him and embrace the one God.

Then, "One to her mother" from the same verse in Song of Songs, is seen as Isaac, who was his mother Sarah's only son. Think about the weight of that – the immense hope and expectation resting on this single child, born in Sarah's old age.

And what about Jacob? Bereshit Rabbah connects him to the phrase, "Pure [bara] to the one who bore her." The text cleverly links bara, meaning "pure," to barur, meaning "clear," to highlight how it was evident to his mother Rebekah that Jacob was a righteous man. She recognized his inherent goodness, his potential for greatness.

But the story doesn't end there. "Girls saw her and lauded her" – these are the shvatim, the tribes, the sons of Jacob.: the brothers, initially consumed by jealousy and resentment toward Joseph, are elevated here. They become figures of praise, lauded for their eventual role in the unfolding drama.

Finally, "Queens and concubines, and praised her" – this, according to Bereshit Rabbah, is Joseph himself. The text connects this praise to Pharaoh's words in (Genesis 41:38): "Can we find [a man] like this [in whom there is the spirit of God]?" Joseph's wisdom, his ability to interpret dreams and lead Egypt through famine, earned him the admiration of the entire kingdom.

So, what does it all mean? This passage from Bereshit Rabbah invites us to see the story of Joseph and his brothers not just as a historical narrative, but as a weaving with threads of love, legacy, and divine purpose. And perhaps most importantly, it shows us how the actions of individuals – Abraham's faith, Isaac's unique position, Jacob's righteousness, and Joseph's wisdom – can resonate through generations, shaping the destiny of an entire people.

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