Can you feel the tension hanging in the air?
That's the scene as Joseph, now a powerful figure in Egypt, finally sits down to eat with his brothers – the very ones who sold him into slavery. According to Ginzberg's Legends of the Jews, it was a meal fraught with emotion.
The brothers, understandably, were a little bewildered. They marveled at everything happening around them. Then something extraordinary happened. Joseph, in a gesture laden with meaning, gave his own portion of food to Benjamin, his full brother. His wife Asenath followed suit. And then Ephraim and Manasseh, Joseph's sons, did the same! That meant Benjamin received not one, but four extra portions of food, on top of the share he got like all of Jacob's other sons. What could it mean? Was it favoritism? A test?
But the surprises didn't stop there. Wine was served. Now, remember, these brothers hadn’t tasted wine in twenty-two long years. Why? Because they had taken upon themselves the life of Nazarites – a kind of self-imposed asceticism, a vow of abstinence from wine and other pleasures. They were mourning, atoning for the terrible thing they had done to Joseph. And Joseph himself? He had abstained, too, grieving for his father, Jacob, whom he believed to be lost to him forever. It was a collective act of penance, a silent acknowledgment of the deep wounds that time had, perhaps, begun to heal. But were they truly healed?
This moment, this meal, is more than just a family dinner. It’s a turning point. It's a taste – literally – of potential reconciliation. It’s a glimpse into the possibility of forgiveness, of moving beyond the past. But will they seize it? What do you think?