Parashat Mikeitz – 5786

A D’var Torah for Parashat Mikeitz
By Rabbi Inna Serebro-Litvak

Who doesn’t like fairy tales? Even as adults, although we don’t always admit it, we enjoy going back to the stories that were once read to us by our parents. The magic of fairy tales, the happy endings, the prevalence of good versus evil—these concepts stay with us forever, instilling hope that, even when life is hard, it will get better.

My favorites were always the ones that had narratives involving themes of destiny, overcoming challenges, true love, and reclaiming what’s lost.

Take “Cinderella.” She worked so hard, lived in poverty, and was abused. Yet she was the one—not her rich sisters—whom the prince fell in love with and married (not without some magic, of course).

Or what about “The Ugly Duckling?” He was abandoned by the swan flock and was so ugly that no one wanted him. But as he grew, he turned into a beautiful swan. And when he did, he discovered the feeling of belonging and achieving success.

A more complicated story of life’s trials is found in the tale of “The King of the Golden Mountain.” This fairy tale is about a merchant who promised to give his son, Heisel, to a dwarf in a pact he made with him. After enduring many trials, Heisel managed to break the curse, rescued an enchanted princess, and eventually became the King of the Golden Mountain.

And so, when I reread this week’s Torah portion, the fairy tales mentioned above came to mind. Joseph who “falls” into the pit, sold by his brothers into slavery, and imprisoned before ultimately rising to a position of power and wealth, has a narrative similar to our childhood fables. Like those imaginary heroes, Joseph believed in himself. He had determination, as well as survival skills. Pharaoh was so impressed with Joseph that he made him his “right-hand man,” as we read:

“Pharaoh said to Joseph, ‘Since God has made all this known to you, there is no one as discerning and wise as you. You will be in charge of my court, and by your orders will all my people be provided for. Only by the throne will I outrank you. ’Pharaoh said to Joseph, ‘I hereby confer on you power over all Egypt.’” (Genesis 41:39–41)

The difference between the iconic fairy tales and the story of Joseph is that the fairy-tale characters have magic to help them. But in the Torah—it is God all along who is with Joseph.

As we read: “God was with Joseph and thus he became a successful man, and he lived in the house of his Egyptian master (Potiphar). Joseph’s master saw that God was with him, that God granted Joseph success in everything he did.” (Genesis 39:2–3) And later, when Joseph was thrown into jail, wrongfully accused of “having his way” with Potiphar’s wife: “God was with Joseph and made him well-liked among the inmates. He also made the warden of the prison favor him.” (Genesis 39:21)

It is the perfect example of the combination of Joseph taking charge of his life and overcoming challenges, and God providing much-needed assistance.

This week, as we are celebrating Hanukkah, we tell the story of the victory of the Maccabees and their success. This tale has become a symbol of the power of spirit for us as Jews. After all, a relatively small group of people, poorly armed, were able to prevail over the powerful Assyrian (Greek) army. Here were the factors that determined their fate: the Maccabees were united—the Greeks were not; the Maccabees had fierce motivation—the Greeks did not; the Maccabees had faith in God—the Greeks worshiped idols.

Here too, the combination of a strong desire to do whatever it takes to win, and God’s help, brought the miracle of victory to the Maccabees. And now, centuries later, we celebrate Hanukkah with chocolate gelt, latkes, and jelly donuts.

As we draw inspiration from familiar fairy tales, ancient Torah narratives, and miraculous victories, this year we also learn even more from the unfolding stories in our own lifetime. These are the stories of real people—our own people—who through courage, endurance, and resilience survived the terrible circumstances, yet remained true to themselves and kept their faith in God and the Jewish people.

I am, of course, talking about the hostages who were dragged by Hamas into the dungeons underneath Gaza. Like Joseph in the pit, and like the Maccabees facing a strong enemy, these people endured the impossible with nothing but their inner strength and hope—and the prayers of the entire nation. Their stories of survival are modern testimonies to the human spirit and to modern-day miracles—not the kind that happen with the wave of a wand, but the kind that people are able to achieve.

Eli Sharabi, a former hostage, describes in his book Hostage how he and other fellow hostages were able to conduct Kiddush every Friday night. As he writes: “No matter what we’ve been through every week, what fights we did or didn’t have, whatever our frustration or sorrow or pains, we gather in silence. The four of us. We listen to Elia, holding a cup of water in both hands, reading in the trembling voice: ‘Yom Hashishi…’”

And later: “I don’t know if I feel God in those moments. But I feel power. I feel connection. To my people. To our tradition. To our identity… It reminds me why I must survive.”

Fairy tales promise us that no matter how dark the forest may be or how deep the pit, the hero will emerge stronger, wiser, and victorious. The stories of real heroes, though, tell us something greater. They teach us that resilience does not come from magic, but from faith. Strength does not appear with a wave of a wand, but through courage, unity, and an unbreakable belief in life and in God.

This Hanukkah, as we light the candles, we are reminded that while fairy tales give us magic, real life gives us something far more powerful: the ability to create light with our own hands, to push back the darkness with our own strength, and to find God—not in enchanted castles—but in the courage of ordinary people facing impossible circumstances.

Amen.