Not just buzzing, practically vibrating with anticipation! The viceroy, Joseph, is about to be reunited with his father, Jacob, after years of separation. And the entire country is turning out for the event.
According to Ginzberg's retelling in Legends of the Jews, Joseph, now a powerful figure in Egypt, had issued a proclamation – a rather forceful one, at that – commanding everyone to participate in welcoming Jacob. Can you picture it? Countless Egyptians, decked out in fine linens and purple robes, marching to a symphony of musical instruments. Even the women were on the rooftops, ready with cymbals and timbrels! It was a full-blown national celebration.
And Joseph himself? He wore the royal crown, Pharaoh having lent it to him for the occasion. Talk about making an entrance! As he neared his father, Joseph descended from his chariot and walked the rest of the way on foot, a gesture of respect that the Egyptian nobles quickly mirrored.
But here's a fascinating detail: as Jacob saw the approaching procession, he bowed before Joseph, even before recognizing him. Now, this act of honor came with a consequence, at least according to some traditions. Legends of the Jews suggests that Joseph's untimely death was, in part, a punishment for allowing his father to bow before him. It's a reminder that even acts of love and reunion can have complex repercussions.
To soften the impact of the reunion, Joseph sent his eldest sons ahead on horseback, gradually preparing Jacob for the emotional shock of seeing his long-lost son. As each son approached, Jacob momentarily mistook him for Joseph, a clever strategy to ease the transition.
Finally, the moment arrived. Joseph stood before his father, bowing low. The Egyptians followed suit. Joseph embraced Jacob, weeping. But amidst the joy, there was also regret. Joseph was particularly grieved that he had allowed his father to bow down to him moments before.
What was Jacob doing during this emotional reunion? He was reciting the Shema', the central prayer of Judaism, proclaiming God's oneness. He didn't even allow the momentous occasion to interrupt his prayer. After, he declared that he had thought he would experience a "double death" when he was told Joseph had died, losing both this world and the world to come. He felt he couldn’t fulfill God’s promise of becoming the ancestor of twelve tribes. But seeing Joseph alive renewed his hope.
The Midrash elaborates on this, explaining that Jacob feared he had forfeited his place in the world to come due to his sins. But Joseph's survival meant that God's promise would be fulfilled, and Jacob's death would only be a physical one.
So, Jacob arrives in Egypt with his entire family – sixty-nine souls. But wait, there's a bonus! As the group approached the city walls, Jochebed, the future mother of Moses, was born, bringing the total to a symbolic seventy. And in an interesting aside, Ginzberg notes that all the males were married, even the very young ones, highlighting the importance of family and continuity.
Joseph, ever the strategist, presented some of his brothers to Pharaoh. He carefully selected the weakest among them, ensuring that they wouldn't be conscripted into the Egyptian army. Moreover, wanting to keep his family separate from Egyptian society, he presented them as shepherds – a profession considered distasteful by the Egyptians, who worshipped animals and the constellation of rain, as Ginzberg notes. This helped secure them the land of Goshen, which, according to tradition, had been granted to Sarah by an earlier Pharaoh.
During their audience with Pharaoh, Joseph's brothers made it clear that their stay in Egypt was temporary. They had no intention of assimilating. Then, Joseph brought Jacob before Pharaoh. The king, upon seeing Jacob, remarked to Og, a giant who happened to be present, about how Abraham, whom Og had previously mocked as infertile, now had a large family.
Pharaoh, perhaps suspecting that Jacob might actually be Abraham, asked about his age. Jacob responded, "The days of the years of my pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years; few and evil have been the days of the years of my life." He used the word "pilgrimage" to emphasize the temporary nature of life on earth.
These words, however, didn't sit well with God, according to the Midrash. God reminded Jacob that He had saved him from Esau and Laban and restored Joseph to him. For Jacob’s ungratefulness, God shortened his life.
Before leaving Pharaoh's presence, Jacob blessed the king, wishing him the remaining years of his own life and an abundance of water from the Nile. And, indeed, the Nile overflowed, irrigating the land and demonstrating the power of righteous individuals to bring blessings to the world.
Jacob's arrival in Egypt is more than just a family reunion; it's a complex tapestry woven with themes of redemption, destiny, and the delicate balance between gratitude and complaint. It's a story that reminds us that even in moments of great joy, there can be undercurrents of sorrow and consequence, and that even our most heartfelt prayers can be met with unexpected challenges. What does this story tell us about family expectations? About the weight of responsibility in leadership? About the way we tell our own stories of our lives?