Why did a small thing like the growth of a beard stop all the brothers from recognizing Yosef?

The moment that they met after their long separation, Yosef recognized his brothers. They, however, did not recognize him. R. Chisda explains that this was because when they last saw him he did not yet have a beard. R. Levi, however, approaches the Pasuk very differently. He reads it as, “He recognized them when they fell into his hand, although they had not recognized Yosef when he fell into their hands.” What could this mean? They recognized Yosef all too well when he checked on them at his father’s request on the fateful day that they sold him into slavery!

The two approaches, argues Rav Yechezkel Libshitz in HaMidrash V’HaMaaseh, do not oppose each other. In fact, one cannot be understood without the other. If a young person from a family of uneducated, menial workers, leaves town and returns decades later as an aging menial worker, people will recognize him. He may have grown a beard in the interim, and it may have turned white, but people will look at him and be able to recognize the young man they once knew. 

Should that same person return to town as a cultured aristocrat, however, people will not make the association. The change in his physical features, coupled with a radical shift in his life-situation, will suffice to prevent people from seeing any resemblance.

The special closeness that Yaakov evinced with young Yosef cascaded into tragic consequences in the relationship with his brothers. Had they realized that Yaakov’s special treatment of Yosef was an artifact of his birth position, they would not have been jealous. Birth order doesn’t say anything about a person’s essence. There is often is a special, understandable place in the hearts of parents for their youngest child. The brothers, however, thought that Yaakov somehow implied that Yosef was better or more accomplished than they were. That led them to jealousy, which then turned to hatred. Jealousy and hatred cloud perception. 

When the brothers threw Yosef into the pit, they saw a young person of diminished value who preened over his good looks. They detected none of his greatness and saw only his faults. In their eyes, he was not somebody who would ever accomplish anything, and, moreover, he threatened to undermine the basic integrity of the family.  When they later regretted their behavior and set out to search for him in Egypt, they looked for him, says a midrash, in the prostitutes’ quarter.

Find him in a high position in Pharoh’s court was unthinkable. Had his features not changed over many years of absence, they would have recognized him nonetheless. But the growth of the beard sufficed to block the recognition. This is what R. Levi meant. Why did a small thing like the growth of a beard stop the brothers from recognizing Yosef? Because when they last saw him, they failed to recognize his true value. When they met Pharoh’s viceroy, each one of the brothers dismissed the glint of familiarity they saw. Seeing Yosef as the power behind the throne was just too incongruous, given their assessment; their minds completely shut down the possibility. Their understanding of him, however, was warped by the jealousy and hatred they had felt so many years earlier, even though it had long receded.

Greater after Death

Chazal tell us that tzadikim are greater after death than in life. Why is it, though, that whatever accomplishments and greatness that people find in a person only after his demise go unnoticed during his lifetime? The explanation is that we appreciate people only within a context. While a person lives among us, countervailing factors skew how we perceive them.

This often includes two factors. One is jealousy. We are jealous of others, however, only when we perceive them to be active competitors – but not after death. A second factor is hatred. A tzaddik often assumes a public role. This means that he will sometimes have to admonish wrongdoers. Some of those will hate him for it. He will sit on a beis din – and some litigants will lose, though they are convinced their claims are just. The jealousy and animosity cease after death, the veil of negativity lifts, and his sterling qualities can shine in their purity.

Much of the strife in our communities owes to distorted images of people we hold before our minds’ eye. Were it not for our own small-mindedness, we would recognize their true worth and judge their actions far more favorably.