Take the story of Joseph, for example. He's often portrayed as the righteous, almost-too-good-to-be-true figure. But was he always?
Bereshit Rabbah, that incredible collection of rabbinic interpretations of Genesis, gives us some food for thought in section 84. It all starts with the verse: “Joseph, seventeen years old…” And the rabbis immediately ask, "Wait a minute – seventeen? And you call him a na’ar, a lad?" (Genesis 37:2). Because the term "lad" usually implies someone younger than seventeen.
So why call him that? The text offers an intriguing answer: because he acted like a younger lad. He was overly concerned with his appearance. He'd groom his eyes, lift his heels – maybe showing off a bit – and even curl his hair. Think of it as... well, maybe Joseph wasn't quite as mature as his age suggested.
But it gets even more interesting. The verse continues, “Was herding…Joseph brought evil report of them to their father” (Genesis 37:2). What exactly did he say about his brothers? This is where the rabbis, Rabbi Meir, Rabbi Yehuda, and Rabbi Shimon, offer different interpretations.
Rabbi Meir suggests that Joseph accused his brothers of eating a limb torn from a living animal, a grave violation of Jewish law. Rabbi Shimon believes Joseph said they were being inappropriate with the local women. And Rabbi Yehuda claims Joseph reported that they were mistreating the sons of the maidservants, calling them slaves.
Pretty serious accusations, right?
But here's where it takes a turn. Rabbi Yehuda bar Simon gives us a powerful, almost karmic interpretation: Joseph was punished for each of these accusations. The text then quotes Proverbs 16:11, “Balance and scales of justice are the Lord’s." And then it continues, almost as if God is speaking directly to Joseph.
"You said your sons are suspected of eating a limb of a living animal? As you live, even at their time of corruption, they will slaughter and only then will they eat." We see this play out when Joseph's brothers sell him into slavery and then slaughter a goat, dipping Joseph's tunic in its blood to deceive their father (Genesis 37:31). The emphasis here, the Midrash points out, is that they slaughtered first.
"You said they are demeaning the sons of the maidservants and calling them slaves? Joseph was sold as a slave” (Psalm 105:17). The punishment fits the crime, doesn't it?
And finally, "You said they are directing their glances at the girls of the land? As you live, I will incite the bear against you – His master’s wife cast her eyes upon Joseph, and she said: Lie with me" (Genesis 39:7). Potiphar's wife's unwanted advances become the direct consequence of Joseph's accusations.
So, what are we to make of all this? Is this simply about punishment and reward, a cosmic balancing of the scales? Or is there something deeper here? Perhaps it’s a reminder that our words have power. That the accusations we make, the judgments we cast, can have unexpected and far-reaching consequences. Middah k'neged middah, measure for measure, as the tradition teaches.
Maybe the story of Joseph isn’t just about a righteous man who overcame adversity. Maybe it’s also a cautionary tale about the responsibility that comes with power, the impact of our words, and the importance of looking inward before we point the finger outward.