Miketz: An End to the Darkness

The contrast between the beauty of Jews celebrating the first night of Hanukkah on Bondi Beach and the horrific acts that followed compels us to ask: how do we respond to such darkness?

Joseph, too, in Parshat Miketz, is immersed in darkness – thrown into a pit, brought down to Egypt, and forgotten in prison for two long years. Yet the Rabbis teach that it is precisely at this moment, when all hope seems lost, that God “puts an end (ketz) to the darkness.” The Torah draws a linguistic link between the end of Joseph’s imprisonment – miketz – and Pharaoh’s awakening from his dream – vayikatz Pharaoh. That awakening creates the opening through which Joseph, interpreter of dreams, can emerge from confinement. Recognizing the hand of God at work, Joseph publicly acknowledges this when Pharaoh asks him to interpret the dreams, and he declares that it is God who will provide the interpretation through him.

The timing of this parsha is significant. Parshat Miketz often coincides with Hanukkah, which celebrates the Jewish people’s triumph over the darkness of assimilation and antisemitism. It is for this reason that the Hanukkah lights are placed outside the home or by the window, visible in the public sphere. Joseph and Hanukkah share a central theme: the courage to express faith publicly – faith in God and in the future of the Jewish people.

In the modern era, the men and women of Chabad have embodied this ideal fully, around the world. The Lubavitcher Rebbe pioneered public menorah lightings, from the White House in 1974 to global ceremonies broadcast by satellite in 1990. Like Joseph and the Hasmoneans before them, they stood tall in their faith and made it visible to the world. That is precisely what Rabbi Schlanger and the Australian Jewish community were doing on Bondi Beach – bringing light into public space – before darkness struck. In their memory, our response must be the same: to strengthen our faith, stand firmly in who we are, and continue bringing light into the world. Shabbat Shalom and Hanukkah Sameach -Karen Miller Jackson 


Vayeshev: Prayers for the Return of the Hostages

The name of this week’s parsha, Vayeshev, underscores the delicate balance between seeking tranquility and the risk of falling into complacency. After a life filled with challenges—fleeing Esav, enduring Lavan’s deceit, and the trauma of Dina’s kidnapping—Yaakov settles in Canaan. The midrash elaborates that he hoped for “shalva,” tranquility, a wish we can easily understand.

Yet Chazal critique this desire. Rashi, citing the midrash, comments: “Yaakov wished to live at ease, but the ordeal of Yosef sprang upon him.” God’s response, as portrayed in the midrash, is striking: “The peace of the world-to-come awaits tzadikim, yet they also want tranquility in this world?!” This connects Yaakov’s longing for rest with the subsequent turmoil—his sons’ jealousy, Yosef’s sale, and Yaakov’s grief. What was wrong with Yaacov’s request? Must tzadikim always be in motion, never settled?

A contrasting perspective is seen in the laws of Hanukkah. The Shulchan Aruch cites the custom for women to refrain from work during the lighting of Hanukkah candles. The Magen Avraham explains that this pause reflects their role in the Hanukkah miracle. Here, rest is valued—a moment to reflect, give thanks, and draw inspiration from the candles.

Perhaps this is the difference: Yaacov wanted prolonged tranquility with no end. But endless repose is not the way to live out one’s life. We never fully “retire.” In contrast, women pause on Hanukkah temporarily, at a designated time. Periodic rest and reflection provide the opportunity to recharge ourselves, to renew our creativity, energy and purpose in life.

This Shabbat, let us not be complacent. Just as the Hanukkah candles inspire us to pause and draw strength, let us channel our prayers and unity toward a modern-day miracle—the safe and swift return of the hostages. Shabbat Shalom and Hanukkah Sameach! 🇮🇱🕎- Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Vayeshev: On Highs and Lows

Parshat Vayeshev tells the story of a low point for Yacov’s home and family. It also teaches that while there will always be “lows,” and times of distance, there will also be opportunities for growth and re-connection. 

After the Torah describes the jealousy and hatred among the brothers, Yehuda “goes down” away from his family and Yosef is “taken down” to Egypt. Bereshit Rabbah takes note of this recurring word and teaches that these “yeridot” (descents) were purposely juxtaposed. In both cases, Yehuda and Yosef’s descent is also a spiritual decline as they both find themselves far from family and their values. Only by remembering their identity, as sons of Jacob, do they act responsibly and righteously.

Hanukkah too, is a time which spotlights the lows of Jewish assimilation and discord with the Jewish people. The Maccabees were battling fellow Jews who chose Hellenism over Judaism and were willing to abandon core Jewish beliefs and mitzvot. The antidote to this, can be found in the way we light the Hanukkah candles – increasing the light each night, moving upward. The Talmud explains this opinion of Beit Hillel: “One should elevate and not downgrade in matters of holiness.” The ascending lights symbolize the Jewish people’s historical resilience. The mitzvah is deeply connected to the home, where Jewish identity is born and nurtured.

Like Hanukkah candles, the mitzvah to light Shabbat candles also represent the unique role of home and family in Jewish life. Rashi associates Shabbat candles with “shalom bayit.” Moreover, women throughout history developed a custom to say a special prayer for the “goodness and blessings” of their families just after lighting Shabbat candles (traced back to the 13th century). These three sources – the parsha, Hanukkah and this female prayer over Shabbat candles – highlight the potential of home and family in strengthening Jewish identity and sparking spiritual growth. Shabbat Shalom and Hanukkah sameach! -Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Miketz: Light to See

One word appears throughout the story of Yosef and his brothers – הכר – to recognize. The word is first used at the lowest point in their relationship. In   Parshat Miketz however, it marks a turning point in the brothers’ ability to recognize each other’s distress and take steps toward healing.  

First, when Yosef is taken down to Egypt, the brothers deceptively dip his famed coat in animal blood. They then show it to Yacov as evidence of Yosef’s death and ask “haker na?!” “Do you recognize this coat?” Later Tamar says the exact same words to Yehuda, in an attempt to get him to recognize her suffering and take responsibility for her. In parshat Miketz this word is used again, when the brothers come down to Egypt during a famine looking for sustenance. They find themselves standing before Yosef. However, “Yosef recognized (ויכר) his brothers, but they did not recognize (הכירוהו) him.” The midrash Tanhuma interprets their lack of recognition as referring to the past, when the brothers did not recognize Yosef, meaning they didn’t have mercy on him. Yet here, Yosef rises above the past and recognizes them and has mercy on them. 

Interestingly, the same word is used in the Mishna Brachot’s teaching of when one can begin to say the Shema in the morning: “from when one can distinguish (משיכיר) between blue and white…” Perhaps, “הכר” is used here both literally and figuratively. As the new day begins and daylight dawns, we should also look around and be mindful of those who need some recognition and care. This relates to Hanukkah candles as well. Hanukkah is a time to focus on seeing and recognizing, as we increase the light of the candles each night and banish the darkness. May this be a Chag Urim Sameach and Shabbat Shalom! – Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Vayeshev: Wishing for Tranqulity?

Parshat Vayeshev opens with the statement that Yacov settled down in Canaan. He had not had an easy life until then: He’d left home to flee Esav, endured years with the swindler Lavan, and suffered the trauma of Dina’s kidnapping and its aftermath. The midrash elaborates that Yakov now hoped to live “b’shalva,” in peace and tranquility. Surely that’s something we can understand.

Chazal, however, viewed Yakov’s desire for “shalva” as problematic. “Yacov wished to live at ease, but the ordeal of Yosef sprang upon him,” says Rashi, citing the midrash. “When tzadikim ask for tranquility, God responds: “The peace of the world-to-come awaits them, yet they also want to dwell at ease in this world?!” This interpretation is based on a seeming connection between Yacov’s desire to settle down, and the subsequent events: intense jealousy between the brothers, the sale of Yosef, and Yacov’s suffering in the belief that Yosef had been killed. 

Yet, there is something bothersome in this commentary. Doesn’t everyone deserve and need tranquility? Should tzadikim never be settled in this world, always doing and moving?

In contrast to the negative view of Yacov’s request for shalva, the Shulchan Aruch cites a custom for women to refrain from work on Hanukkah during the time the candles are lit. The Magen Avraham explains – since “they too were part of the miracle.” This is a time to rest, be thankful, and draw inspiration from the Hanukkah miracle.

Perhaps this is the reconciliation of these two views of the desirability of rest and tranquility: Yacov wanted prolonged tranquility with no end. But endless repose is not the way to live out one’s life. We never fully “retire.” In contrast, women pause on Hanukkah temporarily, at a designated time. Periodic rest and reflection provide the opportunity to recharge ourselves, to renew our creativity, energy and purpose in life. Shabbat Shalom and Hanukkah Sameach! – Karen Miller Jackson