As I sat with Parashat Vayeishev and the Haftarah this week, I found myself returning again and again to a painful truth that Scripture does not hide from us. Some of the hardest wounds do not come from enemies or from those outside our faith. They come from within the family. They come from the people we expect to walk with us, to support us, to understand us. They come from those who should have been the first to stand at our side.

This reality makes the story of Joseph feel especially close to home. Joseph was not betrayed by strangers; he was betrayed by his own brothers. And while Joseph’s youth and his father Jacob’s obvious favoritism certainly stirred tension, I believe those were surface issues. The real problem, the one that ignited jealousy and transformed frustration into something darker, was Joseph’s dream. His brothers could tolerate the coat. They could tolerate his confidence. They could even tolerate the fact that Jacob favored him. But they could not tolerate the idea that God might be revealing a future in which Joseph was elevated above them.

Joseph’s dream was not just a dream; it was prophetic. The Torah makes it clear that everything Joseph saw eventually came to pass. His brothers did bow before him. Pharaoh did place all authority under his hand. The very future Joseph described became the future God Himself brought about. The brothers were not simply resisting Joseph’s personality; they were resisting God’s revelation. And once jealousy blinds the heart - once pride refuses to make room for God’s plan - betrayal becomes a frighteningly easy step to take.

The Haftarah from Amos echoes this same spiritual danger. Amos speaks to a people who claim to know God yet sell the righteous for silver and trample the vulnerable without mercy. He exposes a kind of religious hypocrisy that hides behind pious words but denies God’s character and truth. It is striking how often betrayal comes not from those who oppose God openly but from those who believe they are serving Him, even as their actions contradict His heart.

This, sadly, is not an ancient problem. It is something we see even now. I often receive messages from people asking why some Jews today speak against Israel or why certain Christian movements that claim to follow the God of Israel stand with those who oppose Israel’s right to exist. It is painful, but it is not new. There have always been individuals, and sometimes entire movements, who cannot accept God’s ongoing covenant with Israel. For some, it is theological jealousy, the same kind of jealousy that consumed Joseph’s brothers. For others, it is an unwillingness to acknowledge that God’s promises to Israel stand firm, regardless of human opinion. And for some, the idea that God is still working through Israel, that His covenant with Israel was never canceled or replaced, is simply too difficult to accept.

Just as Joseph’s brothers rejected the dream because it challenged their pride, some today reject God’s purposes for Israel because they challenge deeply held assumptions. They embrace parts of God’s Word that affirm their own identity but struggle with the parts that affirm Israel’s. They speak the language of faith while undermining the very people through whom God revealed His Word. This too is a form of betrayal, not only of Israel but of God’s revelation itself.

The interruption of the Joseph story with Judah and Tamar reminds us that betrayal can be confronted, but only when we are willing to tell the truth about ourselves. Judah failed Tamar, and he knew it. When the truth finally stood before him, he did not defend himself, excuse himself, or twist the story to justify his behavior. Instead, he said the words that began the process of restoration: “She is more righteous than I.” Humility is what breaks the cycle of betrayal. Humility is what heals families. Humility is what restores integrity.

Joseph’s story, however, shows us something else that is essential. After all the betrayal he endured, being sold by his brothers, falsely accused by Potiphar’s wife, forgotten in prison, Joseph refused to become the very thing that hurt him. He did not allow bitterness to shape his heart. He did not surrender his identity to the injustice he suffered. When he finally stood before his brothers again, he chose a path rooted in mercy rather than revenge. His response did not erase the wrong that had been done to him, but it showed that righteousness is strongest when it refuses to imitate unrighteousness.

So what does all of this mean for us today? It means that betrayal from within, whether from our own people or from those who claim to follow the God of Israel, is not new and it should not surprise us. It means jealousy, pride, and the refusal to accept God’s revelation are still powerful forces in the world. And it means that our calling is not to mirror the voices that speak against us, but to stand firm in truth with the same clarity and integrity Joseph displayed.

We cannot control what others believe about Israel. We cannot control the jealousy or theological confusion that shapes certain movements. But we can control how we respond. We can choose faithfulness over fear, humility over pride, and steadfastness over compromise. And like Joseph, we can hold onto God’s promises knowing that His purposes do not depend on the approval of others.

My prayer is that we would walk with the kind of maturity Joseph demonstrated, anchored in the truth of God’s Word, confident in His covenant with Israel, and unwilling to let the betrayals of others define our character. May we be a people who remain faithful, even when faithfulness is costly, and a people who hold fast to the truth God has revealed, even when others choose to reject it.

Shabbat Shalom
Moran