Yosef dreamt a dream which he told to his brothers, and they hated him even more.

He said to them, "Hear, if you please, this dream which I dreamt: Behold — we were binding sheaves in the middle of the field, when, behold! — my sheaf arose and also remained standing: then behold! — your sheaves gathered around and bowed down to my sheaf."

His brothers said to him, "Would you then reign over us? Would you then dominate us?"

And they hated him even more — because of his 'dreams' and because of his talk. (בראשית לז ה-ח)

In a simple reading of the text, Yosef initially shared a dream with his brothers, which aroused their hatred towards him, although the nature of the dream is not depicted.

He then asks them to listen to an apparent second dream, describing the scenario with the sheaves.

This prodded an added dose of hatred, which the Torah attributes to חלמתיו — 'his dreams', in the plural, indicating that there were already indeed two dreams thus far that he shared with them.

The famed Rav Ovadiah of Bartenura makes this observation and suggests that the first dream was an image Yosef shared many years later after returning from the burial of their father Yaakov. Yosef sensed the brothers were still wary of him, suspecting that now that their father is no longer present, Yosef might exact revenge upon them.

To reassure them he 'spoke to their heart'. (שם נ כא)     

Rashi enlightens us to the nature of his pacifying words by quoting a passage from the Talmud.  

Rabbi Binyamin bar Yefes said that Rabbi Elazar said: This teaches that he spoke to them words that are acceptable to the heart, [and alleviated their fears. This is what he said:] If ten נרות — lights could not put out one light, [as all of you were unable to do me harm,] how can one נר — light put out ten lights? (מגילה טז:)

How is it possible that the very same imagery that first provoked hatred was what penetrated and soothed their hearts many years later?

On the face of it, Yosef emphasizing his being invulnerable to their attempts at extinguishing him, sounds quite boastful. His assuring them that he couldn't possibly douse their lights seems almost cynical since in his position as viceroy he clearly possessed the supreme authority to do them in.

My exalted ancestor, the great commentator, the Maharsha, interprets Yosef's 'heartfelt words' in a most magnificent way.

A נר — a light fueled by a material source, is symbolic of our soul.

נר ד' — The Lord's lamp, נשמת אדם — is man's soul. (משלי כ כז)

Man's soul, his true light, is incapable of extinguishing — overpowering another light, on the contrary it enhances and adds even more light to it.

Yosef from the perspective of his experience of having been elevated to his pivotal position to preserve the family and thrive, saw that as incontrovertible proof that his having been sold as a slave down to Egypt and all that ensued, was all part of the masterplan of G-d that came about through the ten holy 'lights' that catalyzed these events.

This perception could have only been seen in its proper 'light' from the perspective of history, looking back at the entire remarkable episode.

The Saintly Reb Elimelech of Lizhensk, as well as the holy Baal HaTanya, teach that the nature of the flame upon a candle is that it always strives upward — towards the source of all life, Hashem. Even when we upend a candle the flame turns upward. The physical wick draws the earthly fuel that serves the light, the soul, in its quest to utilize this material world and transforming it into light, drawing our soul closer to G-d in that process.

We each struggle to pull away from earthly distractions and allowing our lights, our souls, to ascend towards closeness to Hashem. In that journey we often have good intentions but are frequently blinded by our instincts for honor; recognition; pleasure; authority. No matter which way we turn though, that flame within us struggles skyward, leaving us frustrated, angry, and pained. But ultimately, therein lies our hope, that eventually we will realize the answer to our difficulties is by righting the candle.

What the brothers couldn't accept at the inception of this trip, interpreting Yosef's dreams as self-absorption and false confidence — turned into a most important and heartening lesson for life.

Dreams can be an expression of frustrated unrealized material goals in life. But they can also be an earnest pursuit of greatness that is defined by a flaming desire to express our, נר ד' — Lamp of the Lord, pining for a connection to eternity.

The brothers finally came around appreciating Yosef's greatness, discovering their own worthiness that no doubt stemmed from an equal desire to cleave to Hashem, that was clouded by unjustified suspicion, and a taint of fear of their loss of stature.

If our dreams are fueled by our upward minded inner flame, we never have to fear succumbing to the temptations of earthly accomplishments.

The objective of galus Yavan, was to create entities of enticing distractions that would embed us in a world of carnal delight, extinguishing our holy lamps.

The Chashmonaim never lapsed from their dream to restore that internal lamp. Against all odds it was actualized.

We must have purposeful dreams that enlighten our every engagement in this world to reflect the Lamp of G-d.

Yosef never stopped dreaming, warding off the demons that sought to distract him.

He begged his brothers, שמעו נא — Please hear, my soulful pining, החלום — 'The' dream that I have dreamt.

They finally heard it, transforming their hearts.

החלום — 'The' dream, is numerically equivalent to חנוכה — the Yom Tov of Chanukah,(89), where the halacha calls for, נר איש וביתו —each man to kindle his unique lamp, in keeping 'The' dream alive!

א ליכטיגען חנוכה!

באהבה,

צבי יהודה טייכמאן