Since the Israel-Hamas war broke out, my Torah learning has deeper – and for the most part, darker – meanings. When we read last week’s Torah portion Miketz, I winced when reading that Joseph took his brothers captive.

How helpless Simon must have felt when his brothers were released and he was held back, imprisoned against his will by a seemingly capricious ruler without knowing when, or if, his brothers would return to free him. Indeed, many long months pass before they make their way back to Egypt.

When the brothers recount their utter indifference to their young brother Joseph’s pain and terror as he cried out from the depths of the pit that they had thrown him into, it was hard not to think about the hostages hidden away underground in darkness, not knowing if they will ever see the light of day again.

The Torah portion ends with the brothers terrified that they will be forced to leave Benjamin in the hands of this madman who continues to torment them, knowing that it will cause their father’s death if they return without him.

How can we not think about the terrible uncertainty we are facing as we worry about families who may never be reunited and the unbearable suffering that will cause?

SCRIBES FINISH writing a Torah scroll. (credit: DAVID COHEN/FLASH 90)
SCRIBES FINISH writing a Torah scroll. (credit: DAVID COHEN/FLASH 90)
Every day brings new sadness and loss. The last week has been particularly brutal: 10 soldiers fell in one day, and three hostages almost made it home. We wake up every morning to the beautiful faces of young men who have died in battle. There are some days when the sadness and darkness permeate my entire being.

A beautiful piece on Pharaoh's dream

So I was grateful to learn a beautiful piece in Degel Machane Efraim on the weekly Torah portion Miketz, which was a balm for my soul. It was written by the grandson of the Ba’al Shem Tov, Rabbi Moshe Chaim Efraim of Sudikov, who quotes the famous description of Pharaoh’s dream – particularly the horrible vision of the seven skinny cows consuming the seven sturdy cows, leaving them just as skinny as before.

In his interpretation of this aspect of the dream, he describes how a person works to elevate himself through kindness and valor, and through examination of good. But one needs to be on high alert because “evil” will come along and upend a person, turning him in the opposite direction so thoroughly that it will swallow all thoughts of good, leaving no trace, like the skinny cows in Pharaoh’s dream.

He then does a play on the Hebrew word para, for “cow,” and extrapolates from it the idea of peru – fruitfulness. He describes how goodness births goodness into the world but, by the same token, evil begets evil.

While this resembles the rabbinic maxim that a mitzvah leads to a mitzvah, while sin leads to sin, the Degel seems to be talking about something internal – the thought processes within a person. He then writes that a person actually has to “imprison” within himself a thought that is all good to counter the inevitable push toward thoughts that torpedo goodness.

THERE IS so much here that reflects modern awareness of the impact of positive thinking on our well-being. Happiness begets happiness and releases positive energy, or endorphins, into our body, which we then carry with us, and that others often respond to. Alternatively, when we are sad or negative, these feelings often flood us so absolutely that they “swallow” up any sense of happiness, without leaving a trace.

The Degel teaches us a technique to combat this. Imprison something within that is good – a memory, a poem, a piece of Torah, a picture – within yourself that you can take out as a touchstone to release a little light when all seems dark so that the positive energy – the goodness – can begin to multiply. This is similar to the modern mindfulness techniques of pushing distracting or negative thoughts to the side, and using breath to bring us back to the moment to ground and calm us.

He concludes by citing the story of David, before he is recognized as king, as he flees from Saul, who seeks to kill him. David finds Saul sleeping in a cave and he has an opportunity to kill him, putting an end to the violence between them. He can justify this morally and legally through the argument of rodef: You are permitted to kill someone who seeks to kill you. But in that moment, notes the Degel, David says: “But the Lord forbids that I should lay a hand on the Lord’s anointed!”

David chooses to focus on something good, by both naming God and reminding himself out loud that Saul was the Lord’s anointed. This technique of articulating an affirmation, or saying aloud what we aspire to do despite compelling reasons for the opposite, is also known to be effective in redirecting energy from negative to positive.

Using the skinny and fat cows to represent the good and bad residing within us, the Degel shows great awareness that we are constantly wrestling with the negative that encroaches on the positive, and the bad threatening to subsume the good. On October 7, the darkness was so unyielding that it seemed like the very light had been swallowed, never to shine again. Yet, almost simultaneously, acts of kindness and valor from Israel and around the Diaspora began to emit rays of light that held strong.

Last week’s Torah reading ended with an abyss opening up under the brothers. However, the story continued, and this week’s portion. Vayigash, opens with Judah, who courageously steps forward and poignantly articulates his love and commitment to his father, to his little brother, and to his family, all of which unlocks compassion in Joseph. We weep in relief as Joseph, after so many years apart, reunites with his father and the light returns.

May we end this week and begin the next with the strength to emit positive energy into the darkness through acts of kindness and love. ■

The writer teaches contemporary Halacha at the Matan Advanced Talmud Institute. She also teaches Talmud at the Pardes Institute of Jewish Studies, as well as courses on sexuality and sanctity in the Jewish tradition.