The miracle of the manna that fell from heaven and nurtured millions of people for forty years is one of the focal points of this week’s parsha. The obvious reason for the miracle’s occurrence is that the Jewish people had to have daily nourishment simply to survive. However, the rabbis of the Talmud injected another factor into the miracle of the falling manna. They stated that “the Torah could only have been granted to those that ate manna daily.” Thus, the necessity for the manna was directly associated with the granting of the Torah to the Jewish people on Mount Sinai. No manna, no Torah. Why is this so?

The great moment of freedom and redemption has finally arrived. The faith of the people of Israel in Moshe and Aharon has been vindicated. The Lord’s plagues have finally brought down the arrogance and stubbornness of Pharaoh. If this was an old-fashioned movie script, we would write “and then they lived happily after.”

The Lord, so to speak, apparently is disturbed by Moshe’s complaint against the treatment and continued oppression of Israel by the Egyptians. Moshe’s complaint, voiced at the conclusion of last week’s parsha, that no salvation has come to Israel as of yet does not receive a sympathetic hearing in the Heavenly court.

The Torah emphasizes the names of the family of Yaakov in this week’s parsha as it did in even greater detail in last week’s parsha of Vayechi. There may be various reasons for this concentration of interest in the names of the tribes of Israel, but whatever the reasons are, the Torah obviously feels it to be of great importance. In fact, throughout the Torah the names of the tribes are repeated many times. After all, we might ask, what is in a name? But the names of our ancestors are drummed into us by the Torah to provide us with a sense of continuity and tradition.

The holy book of Bereshith comes to its conclusion in this week’s parsha. The story of the creation of the Jewish people through the development of one family over a number of generations and by the perseverance of the great personalities of our patriarchs and matriarchs is now complete. This raises the question originally posed in Rashi’s commentary to the very beginning of the book of Bereshith – why does the Torah, which appears to be basically a book of laws and commandments, bother with this detailed description of creation and continued familial- based narrative? Why is this seemingly anecdotal knowledge of the lives of our ancestors so necessary to be included in the eternal Torah and how does it register in the survival of the Jewish people throughout the ages? In response to this question of relevance, the rabbis taught us that the events that occurred to our ancestors are indeed the harbingers of happenings that will occur to their descendants. But many times it is difficult for later generations to make this connection, except in the most general way of experiencing historic repetitions of circumstances.

The apparent hero and victor in the epic narrative of the saga of Yosef and his brothers which reaches its culmination in this week’s parsha is certainly Yosef. His dreams and ambitions are fulfilled. His brothers and father have bowed down before him as the prophecy of his dreams indicated. He takes no further revenge against his brothers. He houses them and Yaakov in security and prosperity in the land of Goshen and is assiduous in caring for all of their needs.

Yosef’s dramatic ascent to power in Egypt is recorded for us in this week’s parsha. What is noteworthy is that Yosef does not appear to be at all surprised or amazed by the sudden turn of events in his fortunes. A person who lives by dreams is never surprised when the dream turns into reality.

There is a difference – to put it mildly – that is outlined clearly between Yosef and his brothers in this week’s parsha. Yosef is the quintessential dreamer, his head in the stars and his youthful exuberance and certainty in the truthful outcome of his dreams becomes very irritating to his brothers. Since his head is in the clouds in a world of Eisav and Shechem the brothers feel it to be the height of impracticality, if not even irresponsibility. to be a dreamer. The brothers have their feet firmly implanted on the ground, in the reality of the world in which they exist, with clear recognition of the inherent dangers and threats inherent.

Many commentators over the ages have seen in the two confrontations between Yaakov and Eisav – first the struggle with Eisav’s angel and then the meeting with Eisav in the flesh – the two-front war that Judaism and the Jewish people have been forced to fight over millennia in order to simply survive.

Our father Yaakov leaves his home, he who is accustomed to study, tranquility, and to “dwelling in tents,” and immediately finds himself alone and endangered in a hostile world. A rock is his pillow and he must erect barriers at night to protect himself from wild animals (both four and two footed) as he sleeps on the ground. Though he is reassured by Heaven and by his grand dream and vision it is clear to him that his future is still uncertain and fraught with dangers, peril and challenges.