Parashat Miketz, Gen. 41:1-44:17

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More Presents? It's the thought that counts.

Study with Baruch Sienna


Parshat Miketz now continues the Joseph saga, with the elaborate cat-and-mouse game Joseph has planned for his brothers; Joseph has tricked the brothers into re-enacting the scenario that has haunted him his whole life. This story is one of the most masterful tales in all of literature. The parasha ends with the suspenseful dilemma: they now have the choice to (once again) leave the favourite son Benjamin behind and return to their father, or transcend their jealousy and act in a more brotherly protective way. Tune in next week for the climactic finale.

In this week's episode, the famine has continued, so Jacob tells his sons to return to Egypt. Initially, they refuse, since Jacob will not part with Benjamin, and they remind him that 'the man' made it clear that they were not to return without their littlest brother with them. Resigned, Jacob relents, and suggests that at least they bring a small gift: some perfume, a bit of honey, and nuts. Because of the famine, shivat haminim (the 'seven species' for which the Land of Israel is famous), are unavailable, and instead these 'choice' products are to be offered. Is there some significance to these gifts?

The exact meaning of the phrase ‘zimrat ha’aretz’ which refers to these ‘choice products’ is not entirely clear. The Hebrew root z.m.r is usually associated with song, (such as in the words mizmor, Shabbat zemirot, and the songbird ‘zamir’ from the Song of Songs 2:12). Rashi in fact interprets zimrat ha’aretz according to Targum Onkelos: ‘the most praiseworthy’ i.e. products whose worthiness are praised in song. More likely, the word zimrah may be derived from a similar Ugaritic root, meaning ‘strength,’ as in the verse from the Song of the Sea: Ozi vezimrat Yah, “My might and strength is Yah” (Ex. 15:2). In addition, the Hebrew root can refer to trimming or pruning (Lev. 25:3); the branch cut down by the spies is z’morah (Num. 13:23), and mazmeirot are pruning hooks (Isa. 2:4). So we do not know if the Hebrew means ‘the trimmings of the land,’ or ‘the strength of the land’ (since they are availble in times of famine), or even (as Rashi suggests) ‘the song of the land’-- products so praiseworthy that they are celebrated in song!

Why did Jacob choose these products? And how is it possible that such fine ‘produce’ would be available during such years of hardship and famine? It turns out, unlike the 'seven species' that are, in fact, highly dependent on rainfall and vulnerable to climatic conditions, the gifts in Genesis are all hardy, and hardly require any precipitation at all. The honey of this verse is not the date honey (like the seven species). Here it refers to bee honey. Bee honey, derived from wildflowers, would not be overly affected by drought conditions. It would have been a rare food, and an appreciated luxury item (and unaccustomed to its concentrated sweetness, only a little would have been enough). Both pistachios (Rashi does not provide the correct identification for botnim-- which in modern Hebrew is used to refer to peanuts), and almonds, are relatively tolerant of drought conditions. Nuts were delicious, nourishing, high in fat, and an important food in the ancient world.

Balm, gum, and ladanum were important components of the spice trade that was carried on between the moister parts of the Fertile Crescent and the Egyptian desert, and were not readily available in ancient Egypt. All these products were highly valued in Egypt, both for embalming and for the body care that was important to the Egyptians — especially the aristocracy, to which Jacob had every reason to presume “the man” belonged. These substances were expensive ingredients used for ointments. Oils and ointments to protect the skin from the sun, dust, and dryness were regarded as necessities, not luxuries. The exact identiities of three items, usually translated as balm, gum and ladanum are obscure, and often glossed over by modern readers. (I imagine younger readers think that the gum here is chewing gum!).

Tzori, usually translated as “balm,” is one of the intriguing biblical terms that is impossible to identify with certainty. The prophet Jeremiah (8:22) refers to the medicinal properties of tzori: “Is there no tzori in Gilead; is there no physician there?” Tzori is generally considered a plant resin. The gatherers made incisions in the bark of the tree (possibly opobalsum, Egyptian balsam or storax), from which the resin exuded slowly in viscous drops. Collecting even a small quantity could take an entire day. Several sources report that the priestly family of Abtinas held a monopoly on compounding the incense and jealously guarded the secret formula. Producing the resin was a time-consuming, painstaking, and expensive process. Jacob sent “a little” balm — maybe all he could obtain. But even “a little” was a nice gift to an Egyptian, who would appreciate the balm both for its healing qualities and for its use in the embalming (em-balm) that was so important in his religion and culture. Like with tzori, the identity of nekhot is also speculative. Nekhot is usually, but inconclusively, translated as “gum.” The King James translation is simply “spices.” A leading candidate for nekhot is gum tragacanth, a sticky substance that exudes from the bark of shrubs of the genus Astragalus, native to the dry mountainous regions of the Middle East. The 16 species that yield the gum grow on Israel’s semi-arid slopes, and in Gilead, east of the Jordan River. Lot (translated as ladanum) may be the resin that exudes from the fragrant rockrose shrub, whose leaves shine with a sticky, aromatic substance. Collecting the resin is a labor-intensive task done in the heat of the day. The gatherers drew leather thongs or cloth over the leaves, or, according to ancient Roman literature, herded sheep or goats through rockrose thickets and then combed the sticky resin from their coats and beards after they browsed among the bushes.

Nekhot and Lot appear only one other time in the Torah- in the list of items carried by the Ishmaelite traders (from Gilead!) who took Joseph down to Egypt (Gen. 37:25)! These three gifts, gum, balm, and ladanum, remind us of how Joseph ended up in Egypt in the first place, and now, the brothers are humbly bringing the same gum, balm, and ladanum as gifts to Joseph. I imagine Joseph's visceral reaction at being reminded of that painful day upon seeing his brothers' offering.

But one more aspect about these gifts was brought to my attention by Sforno who notices the discrepancy of the Jacob's generous tribute of hundreds of animals to his brother, and the modest tribute of some perfume, honey and nuts. Consider the gifts Jacob lavishly showered on his brother Esau: "After spending the night there, he selected from what was at hand these presents for his brother Esau: 200 she-goats and 20 he-goats; 200 ewes and 20 rams; 30 milch camels with their colts; 40 cows and 10 bulls; 20 she-asses and 10 he-asses" (Gen. 32:14). Yes it is true that this week's items were luxury items and highly valuable, and it was a time of famine, but still, remarking on the disparity of the gift to Esau while Joseph's tribute is only a small token and includes only 'a bit of honey, and a bit of balm' Sforno astutely asks an insightful question: "What do you give the person who has everything?" His answer is that it is better to bring a smaller gift of high quality-- a choice, rare item, that will be appreciated. It makes sense that Jacob was not about to send hundreds of animals to the viceroy of Egypt.

Sforno's comment about gift-givng teaches us an important lesson as we stand in front of our Chanukah lights (for the last time this year this Friday night), surrounded by the remains of Chanukah presents' wrapping paper. Like it or not, Chanukah (in the North American diaspora) has become the Jewish holiday of gift-giving. Some families try to keep the presents in perspective with a gift on the last night, and maybe small tokens on [some of] the other nights. For others, it is a big blow-out extravaganza with ever bigger gifts each night-- (I believe such efforts are an attempt to "compensate" for Jewish at this time of year when we are excluded from Christmas). Sforno's insight, especially at this Chanukah season, and for those of us who probably do not need the latest accessory for our iPods, is to ask ourselves whether we (or our children) need so many expensive or elaborate gifts. Maybe a home-made gift, or a coupon for a special privilege [like: this coupon is good for cleaning up our room- no arguments] would be just as appreciated.

Everyone likes to receive gifts. But do we really need so many presents? Maybe just a small token of our appreciation would fit the bill. As the saying goes, maybe it's the thought that counts.

Chanukah Sameach and Shabbat Shalom.

BDS