Noah's D'var Torah (Bar Mitzvah speech)

Shabbat Shalom. Before I begin, I'd like to wish a mazal tov to the Rekhtmans on David's bar mitzvah and Abigail's baby naming.

In this week's portion, Vayeishev, Jacob settles down in the land of Canaan. The Joseph story we all know starts in this portion. One day, Jacob sends Joseph to see where his brothers are pasturing. Joseph's trip takes him from Shechem to Dothan. He gets lost wandering in the fields. A mysterious man finds him and asks him what he is looking for. When Joseph answers that he is seeking his brothers, the man tells Joseph that he heard them say they were going to Dothan. Joseph goes on, meets his brothers, and we all know what happens after that.

These few verses about the man from Dothan made me stop and think. At first glance, the man appears insignificant; all he does is give Joseph directions. But, as Rabbi Harold Kushner says in Etz Chayim, "If Joseph had not met him, he never would have found his brothers. He never would have been sold into slavery. The family would not have followed him into Egypt. There would have been no Exodus. The history of the world would have been so different! . . . Do we ever know the consequences of the little acts of thoughtfulness we perform?"

There are two ways to think of the man in the field. One is as a normal person who gives a natural response, like giving directions to a tourist. But if that was the case, then why would it be included in the Torah at all? The Torah normally doesn't concern itself with small talk. This particular conversation had to be important to the Jewish people.

So the other way of looking at things is that the man was really an angel. Maybe even the angel Gabriel, according to Rashi. The conversation between him and Joseph was really part of a series of Divine events. The Ramban says that G-d's will overrides anything humans would do. But this doesn't mean we can get away without taking personal responsibility for our choices. I realized that we need to be mindful of the way we interact with others because we never know when we might change someone's life, if only in a simple way.

On a personal level, how I got started in acting was an example of this. For one of my mom's rehearsals with a local light opera company, I came to sing along because I knew and loved the show's music. Then the choreographer came over and invited me to audition for the next show. I never thought that simple decision five years ago would lead to where I am today, but I got in and have been on stage ever since. What has meant even more to me than the acting, though, is the people I've met. The cast and crew welcomed me and made me feel at home. They respected me from the very beginning, even though I was so young. There was always someone there with a guiding hand pointing me in the right direction, just like the man from Dothan.

I have been fortunate to have so many family and friends who have loved and guided and supported me throughout my life. But on a much more serious note, what about the boys at Penn State? Boys my age. They had no one to protect them. The men who should have done so put football ahead of decency. I asked my parents how something like this could happen. Why didn't anyone say anything? Would the Penn State officials have acted differently if they had thought about how their decisions and actions would change the course of so many lives? We will probably never know.

At some level, whether the man from Dothan is an angel or not doesn't matter. What matters is that the results of pointing Joseph in the right direction have reverberated from that single decision to this day.

I am lucky that I have not had to make too many hard choices in my life up until now. But I know a time will come when I will be faced with the easy way or the right way, and the decision I make may change the course of my life. When that happens, I hope I'll be able to find the concept of the "man from Dothan" inside myself, to think about the consequences of my decisions and actions down the road. I may never know what the future will bring, but I know I still need to be responsible for the choices I make today, and to make the best ones I possibly can. Shabbat Shalom.

© 2011 by Noah Friedlander