It's easy to imagine a golden aura, a constant stream of good fortune. But what if it’s something more subtle, more… human?
Let’s look at the story of Joseph in Egypt, specifically Genesis 39:3: "His master saw that the Lord was with him, and everything that he did, the Lord made his undertaking successful." Sounds straightforward. But the Rabbis, in Bereshit Rabbah, that treasure trove of rabbinic interpretations of Genesis, dig a little deeper. They ask: What kind of "with-ness" are we talking about here?
The Rabbis point out an interesting contrast. Remember later, when Joseph names his son Manasseh? He says, "God has caused me to forget all my toil" (Genesis 41:51). Wait a minute… forget? If God was so clearly "with" him, why the forgetting?
One interpretation, mentioned by Etz Yosef, suggests that "The Lord was with him" meant that Joseph was constantly reviewing his Torah studies. He was dedicated. But, over time, in the hustle of Egyptian life, he… forgot. We all know how that feels, don't we? That burning passion for learning that slowly fades as life gets in the way.
Rav Huna, quoting Rav Aḥa, adds another layer. He pictures Joseph constantly whispering – entering a room whispering, leaving a room whispering. Yefeh To’ar suggests this whispering was either his Torah studies or his prayers. Can you imagine that? The constant hum of devotion, a subtle but persistent connection to the Divine, woven into the fabric of his daily life.
And then there's the miraculous stuff. Potiphar, Joseph's master, would ask for boiling water, and it would be boiling. Lukewarm water? Perfectly lukewarm! "The Lord was with him" in the sense that Joseph had success beyond the natural order, almost like…magic.
But even that raised eyebrows. Potiphar apparently said, "What, Joseph, are you bringing straw to Efrayim, earthenware pots to Kefar Ḥanina, fleeces to Damascus, sorcery to Egypt – sorcery in a place of sorcerers?" In other words, what are you showing off for? Egypt was already known for its magic!
So, where does that leave us? What was it that Potiphar saw? Rabbi Ḥiyya offers a powerful answer: Potiphar saw the Shekhinah, the Divine Presence, standing over Joseph. It wasn’t just about perfectly heated water or a knack for management. It was about something deeper, something radiating from Joseph's very being.
But here’s the thing to ponder: if Joseph eventually forgot his Torah studies, if even his connection to the Divine could be obscured by the passage of time... what does that say about the nature of blessing? Perhaps it's not a permanent state, but a continuous effort, a constant choice to reconnect, to whisper our prayers, to remember what truly matters. Perhaps the real miracle isn't the boiling water, but the enduring flame of the soul, however faint it may sometimes seem.