It is Great to be back- to be home!
In this week’s portion, Parashat Vayeshev, we read the story of Joseph and his brothers—a story that begins with a stark and troubling statement: “And his brothers hated him.” This hatred isn’t born of any specific act Joseph has committed at that point; it precedes his dreams, his coat of many colors, and even his words. It seems to emerge almost out of thin air, as though it is predetermined.
This observation leads us to ask: How often do we approach people or situations with preconceived feelings, even before something happens? Our preconceptions—those emotions or judgments we bring into encounters—shape how we interpret events, how we relate to others, and how we behave in challenging situations.
Psychologists, such as Carl Jung, suggest that the things we dislike in others often reflect something unresolved within ourselves. The hatred Joseph’s brothers felt may not have been about him at all—it may have been about their own insecurities, fears, or jealousy. When we are triggered by someone, it might be worth asking: What is this person revealing to me about myself?
This idea resonates deeply when I think of my experiences in Israel. On the surface, there is tension, prejudice, and strong feelings toward the Arab population—Muslims and Christians alike, particularly after the October 7th attack. Yet, beneath this current, the social fabric tells a different story. Arabic is embedded in daily life: it’s on street signs, public transportation, and official documents. Everywhere I went I encountered Arabs in different roles: from Phadi- the manager of the pharmacy in Superpharm chain, Ibthesam- the receptionist in the dental clinic, sales people in the mall, customer service representatives, the hotel manager at the convention in Jerusalem, and I can give you an endless list of examples.
In the Old City market of Jerusalem, one can truly see the shared destiny of all who live in the land. When war disrupts life, it doesn’t discriminate between Jew and Arab; everyone feels its impact. An economic downturn affects all shopkeepers, regardless of their religion. These shared challenges remind us that we are intertwined, even in the midst of our differences.
The hatred we feel—whether it’s for Joseph, for a neighbor, or for a community—often says more about us than about the object of our dislike. If we take the time to ask, “What triggers these feelings in me? What unresolved issues do I need to address?” we might discover a path toward spiritual growth.
When we look inward, we free ourselves to approach the other with openness and curiosity instead of hostility. We might even find common ground where we least expect it. The brothers’ journey with Joseph teaches us that reconciliation and peace are possible, but they begin with self-reflection and a willingness to see the humanity in the other.
So as we enter this Shabbat, I invite us all to consider: Who or what triggers hard feelings within us? What might those feelings be revealing about ourselves? And how can we move closer to peace—not just with others, but also from within?
