As the Worshipful Mayor of the London Borough of Barnet for the municipal year 2025/6 I am frequently asked: ‘Are you a rabbi or a politician?’ The simple answer is ‘Both!’ I am primarily a rabbi -a paid vocation to which I have devoted some 36 years of my life and which is my great joy- but my unremunerated public service as a magistrate, in the hospital, hospice and prison facilities, as an elected councillor and, for a brief period, holding the office of Mayor is an important aspect of my Jewish being.
Parashat Va-Yeishev introduces us to perhaps the most accomplished example of a Hebrew functioning in a non-Israelite society: Joseph whose story will occupy the final four parashiyot of Genesis. It begins with a young Joseph dreaming about his role in a large family -and suggesting arrogant interpretations thereof- and of receiving a significant article of clothing from his father, Jacob, which his brothers perceive as yet another sign of favouritism.
The Joseph narrative is arguably the finest in the Torah and is well-known but includes a dramatic fall out with the brothers and their abandonment of him, his exile by capture or economics to Egypt, his service in Potiphar’s household, and his imprisonment in an Egyptian dungeon where, at the end of this portion, he is interpreting the dreams of Pharoah’s cupbearer and chief baker.
The remaining chapters of Genesis record Joseph’s rise to power where he appears, at the very least, to occupy the post of Minister of Agriculture -look at his fascinating agrarian policies in Genesis 47:11-27- or, more likely, as Pharaoh’s right hand, the Prime Minister and de facto ruler of Egypt.
Joseph’s capacity to serve, on the one hand, at the highest echelons of the Egyptian society in which he found himself and, on the other hand, his memory and longing for the family and culture into which he was born is a gripping example of a charismatic and successful individual who does not forget his roots
but by, in Joseph’s case, Divine design or circumstances plays a role in the society into which he has been thrust.
The question of how to maintain one’s Jewish identity in a society which is overwhelmingly different from, indifferent to or hostile against Judaism is the eternal dilemma which has faced the majority of the Jewish people since their ancestors departed the ancestral homeland for destinations near and far.
The Sunday which follows the public reading of VaYigash is the first evening of Chanukkah. It is possible that Joseph is a figure of legend or imagination whereas the Festival of Chanukkah is rooted in an historical event when a group of Jewish guerilla fighters took up arms in 167 BCE against the might of the Selucid Empire, centred to the north of Israel, and successfully forced its retreat and thereby captured Jerusalem and cleansed and restored the Temple there in 164BCE.
Their successors went on to create for some hundred years what became known as the Hasmonean Monarchy which proved to be the last independent Jewish entity in the region until the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948.
Chanukkah is, of course, about the legend of a cruse of oil for one day that last for eight, the lighting of chanukkiyot, the playing of dreidel, the receiving of gelt, the giving of tzedakah and the consumption of latkes and donuts. Yet the battle between the Selucid Empire and those Jewish rebels, known as the Maccabees, is the real story.
The Chanukkah story is a part of a culturekamp, a cultural clash between Judaism -many aspects of which had been banned- and the Greek culture, known as ‘Hellenism’ which Alexander the Great and his Selucid successors had sought to inculcate into the Jewish people.
Whilst this is not the place to examine the details of Hellenism it is fair to say much of it was not about imposition but about attraction. For a variety of reasons
the Hellenistic way of life proved attractive, and indeed a number of Greek ideas made their way into Judaism including, for example, democracy, the separation of body and soul, and philosophical methods.
Although the historic circumstances are very different, modern Jews -certainly outside of the State of Israel and some extreme’ self ghettoising’ sects- face the dilemma of how to be faithful Jews in the context of making a contribution to the society in which they live. Some advocate a minimal involvement as a form of ‘defence’ on the assumption that if a local population is familiar with its Jews the risk of the rise of antisemitism is reduced. Others take the view that, at the very least, Jews ought be prepared to teach their neighbours about the beliefs and practices of Judaism, reducing ignorance and enhancing community cohesion.
For me -and I suggest the majority of Progressive Jews- the ability to maintain the best of Judaism and make a contribution to the society in which one finds oneself is the very raison d’etre of modern Judaism. We are Jews not simply to perpetuate Judaism but because the mission of Judaism is to contribute to a better for Jew and non-Jew alike.
I take great pride in my Judaism and I delight that it is as a Jew that I undertake roles and responsibilities in the community at large.
- Rabbi Danny Rich serves Southgate Progressive Synagogue.