Seeking Strength and Balance in Shechem
The Torah tells us: “And his brothers went to pasture their father’s flock in Shechem.” Rashi teaches us the meaning of the scriptural tradition that places two dots over the word es. Yosef’s brothers did not go only to tend their father’s sheep but also “to pasture themselves.” The deeper meaning of this is that the brothers went to Shechem to nourish their souls, not their bodies. And this is striking, for in the home of Yaakov Avinu, nothing was lacking physically or spiritually.
We know that the brothers feared Yosef’s rising greatness, worrying that their own place in the spiritual structure of Klal Yisrael might be diminished. This thought caused them great pain. So they journeyed to Shechem, a place where they could draw renewed strength and remind themselves of who they really were. There they could quietly whisper to themselves the truth that every one of us must remember: “The entire world was created for my sake.” In this way, they “pastured themselves”—they nurtured their dignity and reinforced their unique way of connecting to the Holy One.
And perhaps this is why Yaakov sent Yosef after them. Yosef, despite his holiness, lacked the inner boldness needed to confront his older brothers when he felt they erred. Yaakov understood that Yosef, too, needed a place to gather strength, to step into the fullness of who he was meant to be. And these two ways of being were really at the heart of the conflict between Yosef and his brothers.
Yosef HaTzaddik was like Shabbos in relation to the spectrum of avodah paralleled by the days of the week. Shabbos, as we know, is a reflection of the World to Come. It’s from Shabbos that the weekdays draw their blessing. Yosef held a similar place among his brothers—he was the channel through which spiritual blessing flowed into all of their avodah. Even the splitting of the sea at the time of the exodus only came through his merit. He was a luminous place through which Divine shefa passed.
And just as Shabbos requires havdalah—a gentle sense of separateness—so too does Yosef’s powerful quality and avodah require a certain sense of distance to be able to receive from it in a balanced way. “From afar Hashem appeared to me.” The more one recognizes their own smallness before Hashem, creating distance, the more Hashem can reveal himself. The brothers needed a certain degree of distance to be able to appreciate and absorb the light of his particular avodah.
But brotherhood can foster an extraordinary closeness, and sometimes it’s just too close. The very warmth and closeness that bonded Yosef with his brothers made the spiritual distance they needed almost impossible to attain. And so the tension arose. It was far from ideal, yet it created a kind of space—like the distance between the sun and the earth—through which blessing could flow without overwhelming the recipient.
To understand more deeply how Yosef and his brothers reflect Shabbos and the six days: Yosef embodied the essence of Shabbos. His avodah was inward. He strengthened the holiness inside himself until all traces of evil inclination simply fell away. Light pushed out darkness.
His brothers were given a different task—the weekday avodah of refining the world. They sifted and elevated sparks hidden within the mixture of good and evil. Through Torah, mitzvos, honesty in business, and perseverance in avodah, they purified the world bit by bit. Slowly, lovingly, carefully.
Had they all nullified themselves to Yosef’s way of pushing aside evil through inner illumination, the work could have been completed much more swiftly. But that path did not feel true to them. They chose the long, steady path of self-refinement. The deep difference in their spiritual mission birthed this holy disagreement.
Each path was holy. Each path was necessary. And from their struggle, the story of our people unfolded, teaching us that every Jew, in their own way, stands sometimes in the light of Shabbos, and sometimes in the work of the six days, and that both forms of avodah are crucial to bringing the full and final redemption. (Shem MiShmuel)