One minute you're celebrating abundance, the next you're facing scarcity. The story of Joseph in Egypt gives us a powerful glimpse into this precarious balance, and the ancient rabbis, in their wisdom, found layers of meaning in the text that we might otherwise miss.
Let's look at the moment the seven years of plenty ended and the famine began. Genesis 41:53 tells us, "The seven years of plenty that was in the land of Egypt concluded." Then, immediately, "The seven years of famine ensued, as Joseph had said; there was famine in all lands, but in all of the land of Egypt there was bread" (Genesis 41:54). The Rabbis in Bereshit Rabbah (a classic collection of rabbinic interpretations of the Book of Genesis) notice something subtle in the Hebrew. The word "concluded" (vatikhlena) sounds similar to "perfect" (mekholalot), suggesting the years of plenty ended in a state of perfection. Conversely, "ensued" (vateḥilena) echoes "ill" (ḥolaniyot), hinting that the years of famine began with sickness.
Think about that. Can you imagine how jarring it must have been? The Midrash (rabbinic commentary) paints a vivid picture: even though the Egyptians ate well on the very last day of the seventh year, they were already hungry on the first day of the famine! By mealtime, they were desperate for even the simplest bread, but couldn't find any.
Panic likely set in. They questioned Joseph’s promise. “Is this not what Joseph said: ‘The food will be as a security [for the land for the seven years of famine]’?” (Genesis 41:36). The Midrash points out that they needed that security right from the start.
The famine wasn't just a local issue. We're told, "There was famine in all lands" – specifically, in Phoenicia, Arabia, and Philistia. But within Egypt itself, "The entire land of Egypt was hungry, and the people cried out to Pharaoh for bread; Pharaoh said to all the Egyptians: Go to Joseph; what he says to you, you shall do” (Genesis 41:55).
Now, here's where it gets really interesting. Rabbi Abba bar Kahana suggests a radical interpretation: "Go to Joseph; what he says to you, you shall do” meant that Pharaoh compelled the Egyptians to circumcise themselves! According to Jewish law, when a Jew buys a non-Jewish slave, he's obligated to circumcise him. It's a powerful image: the Egyptians, desperate for survival, submitting to a fundamental change.
Rabbi Shmuel bar Naḥman offers another layer. When the Egyptians finally get food and say to Joseph, "you have saved our lives," the Hebrew used is heḥeyitanu, not the similar ḥiyitanu (Genesis 47:25). That extra "heh" in heḥeyitanu is significant. It implies something more, an allusion to life in the World to Come (Olam Ha-Ba).
The Yefeh To’ar, a commentary on Bereshit Rabbah, explains that by agreeing to circumcision, Joseph assured them of life in the World to Come. Alternatively, it could mean some Egyptians converted and thus merited eternal life. So, "you have saved our lives" meant not only physical survival in this world, but also spiritual life in the next.
Finally, Genesis 41:56 tells us, "The famine was on the entire face of the earth, and Joseph opened all that was in them, and sold grain to the Egyptians. The famine was intensified in the land of Egypt." The rabbis see even more nuance here. “The famine was…everything that [asher] was in them” is interpreted to mean "the best [hame’usharim] of them." Joseph wasn't just giving away any grain; he was offering the finest quality, even in a time of scarcity.
What does this all mean for us? It's a reminder that even in times of hardship, opportunities for growth and transformation can arise. Joseph's story, as interpreted by the Rabbis, teaches us about the suddenness of change, the importance of preparation, and the potential for spiritual awakening even in the face of physical hunger. And it highlights the enduring power of hope, even when the future seems uncertain.