Parshas Vayigash

This week’s Parsha begins where last week’s ended: the final confrontation between Yosef and Yehudah, which results with Yosef revealing himself to his brothers. Once they have come to terms with the reality of what had occurred, Yosef asks the Shevatim to return to Eretz Yisroel and bring Yaakov Avinu to Mitzrayim. The Torah describes the arrival of Yaakov and his entire family finally in Mitzrayim, and his emotional reunion with Yosef.

The Pessukim then tell us that Yosef brought his family to Pharaoh, who generously offered them the land of Goshen in which to settle. Yosef, helped his family settle into their new surroundings and provided for their needs: “VaYichalkel Yosef Es Aviv V’Es Achiv V’Es Kol Bais Aviv.”

This of course was in line with Yosef’s role as the one in charge of all economic matters in Mitzrayim. In fact, the Torah then tells goes on to describe exactly how oppressive the famine was during those years, and how Yosef managed his resources. First, he took money in exchange for food, when that was exhausted he accepted their livestock. After a while that supply was depleted as well, and the people came back to Yosef, pleading that he supply them though they have nothing to left offer.

Yosef therefore took the one thing that was left—their land. The Passuk tells us “Vayikan Yosef Es Kol Admas Mitzarayim L’Pharoah”, Yosef, on behalf of Pharaoh took possession of all lands throughout Mitzrayim. Although it would seem that this massive government takeover of private land would have fulfilled Yosef’s plan, the Torah tells us that there were two more details to the program.

First, Yosef moved all the Mitzriyim around, relocating everyone from one part of Mitzrayim to another. In addition, the assumption of all land within Mitzrayim applied to all residents except one group: “Rak Admas Hakohanim Lo Kanah Ki Chok L’Kohanim M’Es Pharoah” The lands of the Kohanim were not taken, for they had a certain allotment provided by Pharoah. The Pessukim continue, detailing a new tax that Yosef imposed as well, which became a permanent part of the tax scheme in Mitzrayim, but once again did not apply to Kohanim.

If we learn these Pessukim with the realization that every word in the Torah is vital to our lives, and that there are no facts or stories that are included for the sake of mere historical record, a simple question becomes clear: why did we have to know all this detail about Yosef’s economic policies? What are we supposed to learn from the way in which Yosef dealt with those who came to him seeking sustenance?

The treatment of the Kohanim by Yosef deserves attention as well. There is a Machlokes among the Miforshei HaPshat as to the nature of these Kohanim—some say they were religious figures, and some maintain that they were of a more civic nature, but the fact remains that these were leaders within Mitzri society. It may therefore have been understandable for Pharaoh to extend them special treatment, but why did Yosef continue, and even permanently codify their exemption?

Targum Yonnason ben Uzeil explains that Yosef had encountered these Kohanim many years before when he was accused of illicit behavior by Eishes Potifar. At that time the Kohanim investigated and found him innocent, sending him to jail rather than the gallows. Yosef therefore had Hakaras HaTov to the Kohanim and exempted them from turning their land over to him.

At first glance one may ask a question on the words of the Targum: the Passuk itself seems to tell us why the Kohanim were exempt: “Ki Chok L’Kohanim M’Es Pharoah”, since they were supported by Pharaoh there was no need for them to turn over their lands. If so, what bearing did Yosef’s feelings of Hakaras Hatov have on the decision? It would appear that the decision was more practical.

Truthfully, though, the Targum alludes to the “Chok” as well, almost as a side point. Perhaps we can therefore understand that the “Chok” which the Kohanim received was itself the result of Yosef’s Hakaras Hatov—he was the one in charge of all sustenance in the land, and presumably any form of support would require his approval—so really the fact that there was a Chok at all was a form of Hakaras HaTov, and their exemption from turning over their lands followed suit.

We must however understand why the offspring of the Kohanim were permanently exempt from Yosef’s tax, as the Passuk tells us “Ad Hayom Hazeh”. Were his feelings of Hakaras Hatov was so deep that they extended to multiple generations, or was there perhaps another reason?

R’ Yaakov Kaminetzky, in Emes L’Yaakov, closely examines these Pessukim, and asks a number of questions. Most prominently, he wonders about their placement within the context of the Parsha. As we noted, the Torah had been discussing the arrival of Yaakov and his family in Goshen, and the fact that Yosef sustained them, and then abruptly switches to this discussion of the economic policies that he enacted. Following these Pessukim, however, the Torah returns to Yaakov and his sons, telling us: “Vayashev Yisroel B’Eretz Mitzrayim B’Eretz Goshen.” R’ Yaakov comments that there seems to be an “Iruv Parshios” here—the Torah interjects the story of Yosef’s taxes into the arrival of Yaakov—and surely there must be a reason.

He therefore explains the entire series of Pessukim with an unbelievable insight. When Yaakov Avinu reached Mitzrayim, he and his sons knew that this was not to be a brief visit. They were well aware that this was the beginning of the Shibud that their grandfather Avraham had been informed of hundreds of years earlier. It was for this reason that Yaakov sought the Bracha of Hashem on his way to Mitzrayim—so that he would be ensured that his offspring would survive the Galus. Yosef was aware of this fact as well, say R’ Yaakov, and his actions we all undertaken in order to prepare Bnei Yisroel for the Shibud.

Rashi tells us, for example, that Yosef moved the Mitzriyim around so that they would be a nation of settlers and migrants, and thus less likely to persecute the Yidden for their status as foreigners. We see here, says R’ Yaakov, that Yosef was setting the stage for the eventual Shibud, making the Egyptians themselves less comfortable in their land, to an extent, in order to make it easier for Bnei Yisroel.

Similarly, he says, the exemption of the Kohanim from this entire process was meant to have an effect on the Shibud: because Yosef set up this standard such that Kohanim and their offspring, were exempt from taxes, the Bnei Levi, the Kohanim of Klal Yisroel, would be exempt from the Shibud, which was also a form of tax. Once again we see that Yosef’s actions were undertaken with a mind toward the coming Galus and ways in which the pain could be mitigated to some extent.

This is a remarkable approach to answering R’ Yaakov’s central question as to the placement of the Pessukim at this point: Yosef’s policies were meant to be a part of assisting his family in settling in Mitzrayim and they therefore are rightly taught to us at this juncture.

Although it is understandable that moving the Mitzriyim would indeed lighten the load on Bnei Yisroel in the future, the exemption of the Kohanim, and therefore Shevet Levi, is a little more difficult to explain: how would this make the Shibud easier. R’ Yaakov explains because Shevet Levi was not part of the Shibud, they could ensure that there was a continuing presence of Limud Hatorah, and this was Yosef’s intention. As vital as constant Limud Hatorah is, however, this would seem to be a less direct benefit to the remainder of Klal Yisroel at the least. Why then did Yosef ensure this would be the case specifically at this juncture, and why through the exemption of the Kohanim from the land tax?

Perhaps, though, based on the words of the Targum, we can develop a slightly alternate approach.

If we think about it, the Kohanim were only exempt from the land tax, the Torah does not tell us that they did not have to participate in any taxation. At the same time, R’ Yaakov explained that it was this exemption that allowed Shevet Levi to avoid the Shibud because that was itself a tax.

Let us for a moment put ourselves in the shoes of a member of Bnei Yisroel from one of the Shevatim who was in fact subject to Avdus in Mitzrayim later on in the Galus. He would see that members of Shevet Levi were not required to work, but were sitting and learning instead. This would no doubt raise a question: “Why am I required to work and not they?”

Investigation would reveal the sequence of events that led to this Ben Levi sitting and learning: many years before, there was a young man from a foreign land accused of a terrible crime by a member of Mitzri nobility. At that time the leaders of the land had the opportunity to satisfy the nobles by summarily sentencing the young man to death. Instead, they undertook an investigation that led to the man’s exoneration, and he was jailed. Years later, that man became a ruler in Mitzrayim and out of gratitude he exempted the leaders who had treated him so fairly from a hefty tax, and indeed declared that leaders of any sort would thereafter be exempt from that tax. Therefore, on this day the Ben Levi, himself a leader of sorts, was not required to work because that would be a violation of the exemption of Kohanim from the tax.

When a person is under stress and duress, as a slave surely is and this simple Jew would have been, he can only see today and maybe tomorrow—he is focused only on his immediate survival. When presented with the story of Shevet Levi, however, he would be reminded that there is always a bigger picture. Rather than seeing only his own misery, he would realize that there’s no telling where one’s actions will lead him, and from where his salvation will come. If one would have told the judges in Mitzrayim that their actions would enable a Ben Levi to sit and learn Torah hundreds of years later, they surely would have scoffed—but that was reality.

This was Yosef’s intention by setting up the exemption of the Kohaim in this way—to enable Klal Yisroel later on to have a sense of hope, to see that the glimmer of light is sometimes fleeting but is always there.

Perhaps this is the lesson we are to take from these Pessukim. When we go through our everyday life, it is sometimes difficult to keep the big picture in mind. We must, however, always remember that there is a “master plan” and that we have no way of knowing which of our challenges is in fact the beginning of our own salvation—or even someone else’s.