Take the story of Joseph and his brothers in Egypt. We know Joseph, now a powerful Egyptian official, tests his brothers after years of separation. He orders his steward to fill their sacks with grain, secretly return their money, and then, adding insult to potential injury, plant his silver goblet in Benjamin's sack (Genesis 44:1-2).
But why all the elaborate staging? What's the point of this intricate setup involving sacks, money, and a missing goblet?
The Torah tells us, "Morning broke, and the men were dispatched, they and their donkeys" (Genesis 44:3). The phrase, "He commanded the one in charge of his house…Morning broke…," seems like a straightforward transition. But Rabbi Levi, in Bereshit Rabbah, saw something deeper in this seemingly simple phrase. He uses it to tell a story about an innkeeper in the South – in the land of Judah, to be precise – who was up to no good.
This innkeeper, you see, would get up in the middle of the night, all dressed and ready, and urge his guests to leave. He’d even promise to arrange a caravan for their safety. Sounds nice, right? Wrong. As Rabbi Levi tells it, these caravans were ambushes. The innkeeper was in cahoots with robbers! They'd plunder the travelers and then split the loot with him. A real piece of work, this guy.
One time, Rabbi Meir himself happened to stay at this inn. The innkeeper, following his usual routine, tried to get Rabbi Meir to leave in the middle of the night, promising a safe caravan. But Rabbi Meir, ever the wise one, wasn’t buying it. "I have a brother," he said, "and I'm waiting for him. He's at the synagogue."
The innkeeper, persistent in his wicked scheme, asked for his brother's name, offering to go fetch him. "Ki tov," Rabbi Meir replied. Ki tov, Hebrew for "that it was good." All night long, the innkeeper shouted "Ki tov, Ki tov" at the entrance of the synagogue, but of course, no one answered.
In the morning, as Rabbi Meir prepared to leave, the innkeeper, confused and frustrated, asked about this elusive brother. Rabbi Meir, with a sly smile, replied, "He has arrived: 'God saw the light, that it was good [ki tov]' (Genesis 1:4)."
So, what’s the connection between Joseph's elaborate plot and Rabbi Meir’s encounter with the crooked innkeeper? Rabbi Levi is using this seemingly extraneous phrase, "He commanded the one in charge of his house…Morning broke…," to highlight the importance of discerning appearances. Just as the innkeeper's offer of a caravan seemed helpful but was actually deceitful, so too, the events in Joseph's story have layers of meaning.
Sometimes, things aren't always as they seem. Joseph's actions might appear cruel or manipulative, but ultimately, they serve a higher purpose: to test his brothers' repentance and ensure the survival of his family.
Rabbi Levi's story reminds us to look beyond the surface, to be wary of false promises, and to trust in the light of truth, even when it's hidden in the darkness. Like Joseph, sometimes we have to create elaborate scenarios to reveal what's truly in people's hearts. And like Rabbi Meir, we need to be clever enough to see through deception and find the good that lies within. Ki tov, indeed.