Yosef is given a special coat by his father, a kutonet pasim, a fine striped tunic, as a symbol of his status as his father’s favorite, most beloved child (Genesis 37:3). Growing up with his father treating him this way, it is no surprise that Yosef’s dreams betray this sense of superiority, with visions of all of his brothers’ sheaves bowing down to his own central sheaf in the field (37:7).
But then, out in the wilderness one day, Yosef’s brothers strip him of this special coat, throw him into a pit and sell him as a slave. He goes from being the one towering above the others to being the one below them, physically lower, in the pit, and brought low in social status from a prince to a slave. He started out feeling more than others and now he becomes less than.
Both High and Low
Those two feelings are actually often intertwined in us, the sense of inferiority and of superiority, two sides of the same coin. We have a need to build ourselves up precisely because there is some deep emptiness or insecurity inside. In fact, even Yosef’s special coat may be a sign not just of grandiosity, but also of insecurity. One theory about the word pasim in kutonet pasim is that it comes from pius, meaning appeasement (Hizkuni and Bekhor Shor here). How was it an appeasement for Yosef? One commentator suggests that Yaakov made Yosef this special coat because he actually felt bad for Yosef for not having a mother around – Rachel died in last week’s parsha – and the coat was a kind of compensation prize born of pity (Birkat Asher here). Maybe Yosef was a little insecure and sensitive around his brothers as the only one (other than young Benyamin) without a mother, and so his father thought he needed this extra boost. The coat is then a symbol of both lowness and highness. The two go together. We often try to puff ourselves up precisely in the face of this gnawing sense that “something is wrong with me” compared to others. I think that as Jews we know something about this double edged sword of superiority and inferiority; both have been part of our identity and how we are perceived by others.
Your Experience
I invite you to pause here to do an honest checkin with yourself around this issue of superiority and inferiority, both personally and culturally. Imagining yourself in different social situations and noticing, without judgment, any inklings of the feeling of being less than or more than others, the move towards comparison and evaluation and hierarchy, the sense of who is higher up on some imagined totem pole and who is lower, how you feel that in different ways with others. Why is it that a certain person “makes you feel bad about yourself?” Noticing how sometimes maybe we do feel like Yosef in the pit, stripped and naked, below all the others who seem to be somehow above ground doing great, and sometimes maybe we also feel like Yaakov in the dream, towering above others. Maybe if you can, noticing how the two are linked in some way inside you, flip images of each other, how the belief that puts us on top one day also puts us on the bottom another day, how they come from the same place inside us, this (false) notion of our non-intrinsic relative worth based on comparison with others.
Unstable Foundation
The thing is that this kutonet pasim that Yosef was given and in some way we are also offered, it entices us. It can be pretty attractive to be offered a way to feel that special, that beloved, to be considered the very favorite, to be lavished with attention. But this way of feeling special and beloved – by being above others – it ultimately isn’t a good foundation to build a life upon. It is dependent on someone else’s judgment, external and conditional. And there is something almost possessive about it, as if the stripes on Yosef’s coat are bars on a golden cage. His father keeps him tied in, dependent, always needing approval to feel good, instead of setting him free to be strong on his own. I’m not sure that’s really love. It isn’t stable or nourishing long term to be placed above others in this way. It’s like you are walking around on stilts (see Alice Miller, The Drama of the Gifted Child, p.36). Yes, you tower above the others, but you are so wobbly, and you’re always worried about falling, and it isn’t much fun anyway since everyone else is down on the ground having a party.
Getting Off the Stilts
The ultimate call is to get out of the whole comparison and evaluation and approval business altogether, to get off the stilts and to get off the seesaw of up and down, better than or worse than, to shed our special cloak like Yosef was forced to shed his, and to say – that’s it. I no longer want either the ups or the downs. Lo me’duvshah velo me’uktzah. Neither the bee’s honey nor the bee’s sting (Rashi on Numbers 22:12). Neither best nor worst, neither praise nor judgment, neither towering above nor cowering below. Just you and me walking along together, each one spectacular in our own way, with intrinsic God given tzelem elokim worth. Each one an entire universe. Each one a beautiful flower in a vast field of exquisitely unique flowers, no comparisons.
Our Deepest Desire: Fellowship
That is the call: to get off the seesaw and walk along together, hand in hand. I believe we feel this call inside us as our deepest desire and longing. When Yosef, lost on his way to his brothers, meets a man and asks for directions, the man asks him, mah tivakesh, what do you seek or desire, and Yosef answers – et akhai anokhi mevakesh. It is my brothers that I seek (37:15-16). This is our ultimate desire, what we are truly seeking in this life – to live as brothers, as sisters, as peers, as friends, to join the circle of dancing humans rather than being up above on stilts, to shed the special cloak and just be a human among other humans, to drop competition and comparison and move into love and support, honoring each one as a creature of God. Maybe you can feel the gladness in your heart at this joining, the way your heart sings at the prospect: finally, not separate, not above or below, but simply together, belonging, joining, honoring, helping.
This is Redemption
Maybe holding onto that desire as a compass to guide you or as a candle to light your way. This is where we are headed – et akhai anokhi mevakesh. It is my brothers and my sisters that I seek. Long term, this is redemption, this is where we are headed together, towards fellowship, towards equality, towards a giant circle of people joining hands to dance with bare feet on this earth. Yes, there may be obstacles and delays and despair, but we stay true to that desire – et akhai anokhi mevakesh. It is my brothers and my sisters that I seek.
End of Yosef’s Story
And the story of Yosef does move in that direction, slowly, over time, with much suffering and much healing. By the end of Genesis, the brothers are reconciled. They are no longer jockeying for position. Even though Yosef is a viceroy, it is a position, a role he plays, not an essence, not from a place of intrinsic superiority, and that feels different. And, for the first time in the history of this family, all of the children are included in the legacy, no one shut out, all chosen, all favorites.
Each Our Own Cloak
So maybe instead of taking away the kutonet pasim, that special cloak, from Yosef, maybe instead we can each one of us put on our own dazzling cloak, not as a sign of superiority or inferiority in relation to anyone else, but as a sign of our intrinsic unique divine belovedness, each a creation that has never before been seen in this world and never will again Finding our special coat inside ourselves, not based on someone else’s approval, but knowing from the inside. Can you see what yours looks like, feel your own specialness?
Helping Each Other Find It
And instead of competing for that one coat given by father Yaakov, we can also help each other find and put on our special cloaks, seeing the light in your neighbor and mirroring it, helping them find their coat and then celebrating together, celebrating each one and supporting each other in the work of all of us shining as brightly as we can. Et akhai anokhi mevakesh. What I truly desire is fellowship, joint fellowship.
Each a Turn in the Spotlight
Yosef dreamed that his sheaf was in the center and all the others bowed down to him. Maybe we do each need a turn in the center and that’s ok. Yosef can have the first turn and we won’t throw him in the pit for that. And then each of the other siblings and each of us gets a turn in the center, maybe not with others bowing down, but with others helping us to stand up and be ourselves, supporting and loving and celebrating each person in turn in their dazzling kutonet pasim, a symbol not of competition and superiority, but of our joint love and celebration.
Photo by Oleksandr P at Pexels
