Temple Aliyah

Most of us are not economists. But you don’t have to be an economist to appreciate Parashat Mikketz—especially not this year. As this parashah teaches us, whatever goes up—including stock markets and retirement portfolios—can certainly come down, even rapidly and mercilessly.

Pharoah dreams of seven ugly, gaunt cows eating up seven handsome, sturdy ones. Then he dreams of seven thin, scorched ears of grain swallowing up seven solid and full ears. Joseph interprets the dreams: seven years of plenty will be followed by seven years of famine, during which all the abundance in the land of Egypt will be forgotten, and no trace of it will remain. What a nightmare!

As a child, I was puzzled by Joseph’s interpretation: how could it be that an entire society could have seven years of plenty followed by seven years of famine? In every society, and in every era, aren’t there always people who do well and others who suffer? Is it really true that an entire society can suffer, that everyone can be hurting?

Many of us—even in well-heeled suburbs like our own—have “taken a hit” during the recent market meltdown. And there will be more pain ahead. At such a time, we may be reeling. We may be feeling the need to commiserate with others who have lost money in the market, or whose homes or retirement portfolios have sunk in value. That’s natural. But most of us still have our homes and our jobs. We still have hope for the future. Let’s think about those who don’t—the poor, the hungry and the homeless—and let’s re-double our commitment to help them. Let’s also reach out to the institutions that are so vital to maintaining the Jewish community, such as our synagogues and schools, and that depend so heavily on our charitable dollars.

This may seem paradoxical: to give more when times are worse. But only if we join hands and strengthen the safety net beneath all of us—just as Joseph tightened the safety net beneath all of Egypt—can our society survive to prosper again. And only if we support our synagogues and schools and Jewish communal institutions—whose fixed costs far exceed dues or tuition dollars or fees—will they survive this current crisis.

It isn’t easy to teach children about the value of money. But the lessons that can be learned from the current economic turmoil are invaluable. One of them is that we can get by with less. Belt-tightening is good for all of us. Another is that we shouldn’t measure a person’s worth by the amount of money he or she has. Even wealthy people can be crooks. Even poor people can be worthy. Finally, we can realize that though not everything is within our control, much is. As the Talmud teaches us, the key to prosperity was not handed over to humankind. (Ta’anit 2b). Nonetheless, as Joseph recognized in Parashat Mikketz, economic distress can present us with the opportunity to be God’s partner. No matter how difficult our circumstances, we can strive to “open [our] hand and provide sustenance to every living thing.” (Psalm 145) During this economically rather dark year, especially as we light our Hanukkah candles, which are such powerful symbols of hope in the face of despair, let’s do our best to offer hope for the individuals and the institutions that are depending on us.

Shabbat Shalom and Hag Urim Sameach!