Parshat Vayeshev4 min read

Three Angels Sent Joseph Toward the Waiting Pit

Joseph asked a stranger in an empty field where his brothers had gone. The man pointed him toward Dotan. The pit there was already waiting.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The First Mouth Asked What He Sought
  2. The Third Named Dotan
  3. The Brothers Said They Would See
  4. The Pit Opened Anyway

Joseph walked the empty ground near Shechem with his father's coat on his shoulders and no flock in sight. The brothers had moved. The field did not tell him where.

Three Angels Sent Joseph Toward the Waiting Pit Click for full size

He was looking for them when a man found him. Joseph had not found the man. The man found Joseph (Genesis 37:15).

The First Mouth Asked What He Sought

"What do you seek?" the man asked.

"I seek my brothers," Joseph said. "Please tell me where they are herding."

Joseph stood in the stubble and waited. The man who had found him was already gone, or already changing. A second figure stood in his place, and the same question hung in the air as if it had not yet been answered.

The Third Named Dotan

A third mouth spoke.

"They traveled from here," he said. "I heard them saying, We shall go to Dotan."

He pointed. Joseph turned his face that way. The angels did not turn him from danger. They pointed him into it. He asked for his brothers and received the beginning of exile.

The word here meant more than a patch of grass. The brothers had traveled away from the attributes of God. They had left mercy. They had left the patience that might have remembered Jacob's face before throwing his beloved son into an empty pit.

Joseph kept walking toward men who had already left the place where brothers should stand. He did not know it. He carried dreams, and the stubborn hope that hatred can be corrected if one simply arrives. From a distance they saw the coat coming and began turning those dreams into evidence against him.

The Brothers Said They Would See

They said they would see what would become of his dreams. They meant it as mockery. Kill him, sell him, strip the coat, stain it, bring the blood home, and the dreams would have no mouth left to speak.

God took up the same words. "We will see." Their plot still had to run. The road under it was longer than they knew.

They could choose the pit, then the caravan, then Jacob collapsing over a bloodied garment. None of that choice was imaginary. Their sin remained theirs.

They thought they were ending Joseph's dreams by sending him down. They were placing him on the only road by which the dreams could climb, through Egypt, through famine, through a prison, through Pharaoh's sleep.

The Pit Opened Anyway

They stripped the coat and lowered him. The cistern was empty of water and full of dark. Joseph feared God in that hole the way he had feared God in the field, and later in Egypt he would tell those same brothers, "Do this and you will live, for I fear God" (Genesis 42:18). The fear did not spare him the pit. It kept him whole inside it.

A caravan came. They sold him. Jacob took the stained coat in his hands and believed the lie. Years later Joseph stood in Egypt with grain under his authority and his brothers bowing before him without knowing his face. The field near Shechem had not been a detour. It had been the first hinge.

He waited two extra years in prison after he asked a cupbearer to remember him. The wait felt wasted. It was not. The road from the field to the throne was not clean, but it was continuous. A lost boy asked for directions. Heaven answered with a road that looked like ruin. The pit opened. The dream kept walking.

JosephCreationDivine ProvidenceEgyptRighteousnessPotiphar
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From the tradition

Sources

4 sources

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 84:14Bereshit Rabbah

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

The Torah, and the Rabbis, have some thoughts on that. to a fascinating little piece from Bereshit Rabbah 84, a midrash (exegetical interpretation) on the Book of Genesis. It all centers on Joseph, the favored son of Jacob, and his fateful encounter with his brothers that led to him being sold into slavery.

The passage in (Genesis 37:15-17) tells us: "A man found him, and behold, he was wandering in the field. The man asked him, saying: What do you seek? He said: I seek my brothers. Please tell me where they are herding. The man said: They traveled from here, for I heard them saying: We shall go to Dotan. Joseph went after his brothers, and he found them in Dotan."

Simple enough. But the Rabbis see so much more beneath the surface.

The midrash zooms in on the phrase "A man found him, and behold, he was wandering in the field.” Rabbi Yannai suggests this wasn't just any man. He proposes that three angels came to Joseph's aid, each playing a part: “A man found him”; “the man asked him”; “the man said.” – divine intervention guiding Joseph towards his destiny, even in this seemingly small moment.

Then, the midrash takes a darker turn. "They traveled from here," the man tells Joseph. But what does "here" mean? According to the midrash, "here" refers to "the attributes of the Omnipresent." In other words, the brothers had abandoned the traits of mercy, grace, and kindness. They were acting outside of God's compassionate nature.

This sets the stage for what's coming. "They saw him from afar, and before he approached them, they conspired against him to kill him" (Genesis 37:18). The midrash intensifies this, adding, "They saw him from afar – they said: Come let us sic the dogs on him." It’s a stark image of hatred and malice.

And the brothers' words! "They said one to another: Behold, that dreamer is coming" (Genesis 37:19). The midrash picks up on this, playing with the Hebrew term ba’al hachalomot, "master of dreams". The Rabbis suggest they meant, "Here he is coming, bearing his dreams," mocking Joseph's prophetic visions. Rabbi Levi takes it a step further, ominously stating that Joseph is "destined to mislead them to follow the Baal," referencing the idol worship that his descendant Yerovam would later incite.

It’s a chilling foreshadowing, linking Joseph's story to the later sins of the Israelites.

Finally, the midrash reaches a powerful climax. "Now let us go and kill him," the brothers plot. But the Holy One, blessed be He, responds! The midrash puts these words in God’s mouth: "You say: 'And we will see' and I say: We will see – now we will see 'whose word will stand' (Jeremiah 44:28), mine or yours."

It's a divine challenge, a declaration that God's plan will ultimately prevail, despite the brothers' evil intentions. God's will vs. human will – it's a timeless theme that resonates throughout the Torah.

So, what does this all mean for us? It's a reminder that even in moments of apparent abandonment and wandering, we might be guided by forces beyond our understanding. It's also a cautionary tale about the dangers of abandoning compassion and succumbing to hatred. And perhaps most importantly, it’s evidence of the enduring power of divine purpose, even when faced with human opposition. Whose word will stand, indeed?

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Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer 19:12Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.Pirke de Rabbi Eliezer, trans. Rabbi Gerald Friedlander, London (1916) · CC-BY

The ancient Jewish sages understood that feeling intimately. They saw it reflected in the verses of Psalms, and wove those verses into tales of hope and resilience.

It starts with a cry, almost a lament, from the people of Israel: "For, lo, thine enemies, O Lord" (Ps. 92:9). The text paints a vivid picture: Israel burdened, "afflicted with a heavy yoke on our backs." But even in this moment of despair, there's an unwavering faith. A defiant declaration: "We know that they are doomed to destruction!" As the verse continues, "O Lord, for, lo, thine enemies shall perish" (ibid.). It’s a bold statement of belief in ultimate justice, in the eventual triumph of good over evil.

What happens to the wicked? They "shall be scattered like chaff before the wind." A powerful image of insignificance, of being utterly swept away. This isn't just about physical enemies, though. It includes all "idolaters, for they and their works are iniquity." Anything that stands in the way of truth and righteousness, anything built on falsehood, will ultimately crumble.

The Psalm doesn't end there. It pivots to a message of hope, a vision of future strength. "But my horn hast thou exalted like that of the reêm" (Ps. 92:10). Now, what is this reêm? It's often translated as a wild ox or unicorn – a creature of immense power and untamable spirit. And the image of the "horn" being exalted is a symbol of strength and leadership.

Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer takes this metaphor and applies it to a specific figure: Menachem, son of 'Ammiel, son of Joseph. This is no ordinary individual. He’s described as having horns "taller than those of all kings." He will, in the future, "gore in the four corners of the heavens," meaning his influence and power will extend to the ends of the earth. Moses himself, according to this tradition, foresaw this moment, saying, "His firstling bullock, majesty is his, and his horns are the horns of the reêm: with them he shall gore the peoples all of them, even the ends of the earth" (Deut. 33:17). This Menachem is a figure of immense importance. Some understand him as none other than the Messiah.

But the path to redemption is never easy, is it? The text warns that "all the kings will rise up against him to slay him." We're reminded of the verse, "The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers (take counsel together)" (Ps. 2:2). This speaks to the intense opposition that Menachem – or the Messianic figure – will face.

And what of the people of Israel during this tumultuous time? They will experience "great trouble," the verse says. A time of hardship and testing. Yet, even in their suffering, they will remain resilient, like "a green olive." An olive tree, even when seemingly battered, can still produce fresh oil. That’s why the verse continues, "I am anointed with fresh oil" (Ps. 92:10). Even in the darkest of times, there will be a source of sustenance, a spark of hope, and renewed strength.

So, what does this all mean for us today? Perhaps it's a reminder that even when we face seemingly insurmountable challenges, when the weight of the world feels crushing, we can still draw strength from our faith, from our traditions, and from the hope of a brighter future. The story of Menachem and the exalted horn of the reêm is evidence of the enduring power of hope, even in the face of adversity. And who knows, maybe we each carry a little bit of that reêm within us, waiting to be unleashed.

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Midrash Tehillim 25:12Midrash Tehillim

Retold in our words. Read the original at the link below.Rabbi Mike Feuer, Jerusalem Anthology · CC-BY

Midrash (rabbinic interpretive commentary), that beautiful, expansive form of Jewish storytelling, loves to shine a light on those very people. It teases out their virtues, amplifies their struggles, and ultimately, teaches us something profound about ourselves.

That brings us to Joseph.

The familiar version gives us Joseph. The dreamer, the one with the coat of many colors, the one sold into slavery in Egypt who eventually rises to become second-in-command. Big story. But Midrash Tehillim (a Midrash on the Book of Psalms) asks a simple, yet powerful question: "Another man, who is he?"

Who is he, really?

The answer, according to the Midrash, is Joseph. And the text unpacks why he is so deserving of our attention, pointing us to key moments in his life. Take, for example, the verse from (Genesis 37:15): "And a man found him, and behold! he was wandering in the field, so the man asked him, saying, 'What do you seek?'"

But what kind of man was he?

The Midrash answers: one who "feared the Lord," as evidenced by Joseph's own words in (Genesis 42:18): "On the third day, Joseph said to them, 'Do this and you will live, for I fear God.'" That yirat Hashem, that awe and reverence for the Divine, was a guiding principle in his life. In the midst of incredible hardship, of betrayal and displacement, he held onto his faith.

And it's not just about faith; it's about action. The Midrash continues that Joseph "will guide us in the way to choose, as he did not sin with his master's wife." This refers, of course, to the infamous episode with Potiphar's wife. It's evidence of Joseph's character, his unwavering commitment to doing the right thing, even when faced with immense temptation. It's not just about avoiding sin, but about actively choosing good. His nefesh (the vital soul), his soul, "leaned toward good."

There’s something so deeply human about this portrayal. Joseph isn't presented as some flawless, unattainable ideal. He's a man who struggles, who faces difficult choices, and who ultimately chooses the path of righteousness.

Finally, the Midrash connects Joseph to the land, stating that "He is buried in the cave, and his descendants will inherit the land," citing (Numbers 32:33): "So Moses gave to them, to the sons of Gad and to the sons of Reuben and to half the tribe of Manasseh the son of Joseph, the kingdom of Sihon, the king of the Amorites, and the kingdom of Og, the king of Bashan, the entire land with its cities and the territory surrounding them."

This ties Joseph directly to the inheritance of the Promised Land, emphasizing the lasting impact of his actions. His legacy extends far beyond his own lifetime, shaping the destiny of his descendants and the future of the Jewish people.

That even when we feel lost or insignificant, our actions can have a profound impact on the world around us. And that, perhaps, the greatest heroes are not always the ones who grab the spotlight, but the ones who quietly, steadfastly choose good, day after day.

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Bereshit Rabbah 89:2Bereshit Rabbah

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

We all have those moments where we feel like our efforts are fruitless. But what if even the most difficult experiences held a hidden benefit? Bereshit Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations of the Book of Genesis, offers a fascinating perspective on this very idea through the story of Joseph.

Our starting point is the verse, "It was at the conclusion of two years" (Genesis 41:1). Why highlight this specific timeframe? The Rabbis, in Bereshit Rabbah 89, connect this to the proverb, "In all toil there is advantage, but lips’ talk is only for detriment" (Proverbs 14:23).

Rabbi Shimon bar Abba uses a vivid analogy: it’s like the difference between drinking hot water and cold. Even the effort required to heat the water brings a benefit, as hot water was considered healthier. The Etz Yosef commentary explains that even the effort of heating the water brings an advantage. "But lips' talk is only for detriment," he continues, meaning that idle chatter and inaction lead to suffering. If someone just talks and does not take action, he will suffer.

The text then offers a curious story about a bone gatherer in Tzippori. Some say it was Rabbi Shimon bar Abba himself! This bone gatherer could discern what people drank based on the color of their bones: black for water drinkers, red for wine drinkers, and white for those who preferred hot water. What does this tell us? Perhaps it's an illustration of how even in death, the consequences of our habits remain.

But the real power of this passage lies in its application to Joseph's story. "In all toil there is advantage" – even from the suffering Joseph endured with his master’s wife, he gained an advantage. How so? He ultimately took her daughter as his wife. The text reminds us that Joseph married Asenat, daughter of Potifera (Genesis 41:45), who the Sages identify with Potiphar (see Bereshit Rabba 86:3). So, the very source of his torment ultimately leads to his blessing.

Conversely, "lips' talk is only for detriment." Remember when Joseph, in prison, asked the chief butler to "Remember me…and mention me" (Genesis 40:14) to Pharaoh? Because of this request, two years were added to his imprisonment. As the verse states: "It was at the conclusion of two years" – two years after he expected to be freed. Joseph’s reliance on words, on someone else’s action, delayed his liberation.

So what are we to take away from this? That even in our darkest moments, in the midst of our hardest work, there may be hidden benefits waiting to be revealed. And perhaps a lesson in the power of action over empty words. Maybe the secret to unlocking those hidden blessings lies in focusing on the task at hand, rather than relying on others or getting lost in idle chatter. The Midrash Rabbah is inviting us to see the potential for growth and good in every challenge we face.

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