One of the abiding truths of human nature is that we delight in discovering the faults of each other, and we hate to reveal our own shortcomings.
While we know in our hearts that “to err is human,” none of us likes to acknowledge our own humanity, our own propensity to make mistakes, even to sin.
Yet, error is the inevitable result of finite creatures doing their best, and sin is the unavoidable result of finite creatures giving into their own finitude. There is simply no way for human beings to be perfect, and the very attempt to embody perfection can itself lead to the sin of arrogance and false pride.
Today’s Torah portion focuses on one human being who is able to grow to accept his own humanity. After spending time in an Egyptian jail, Pharaoh’s chief cupbearer had a dream that only Joseph, the lonely Hebrew slave, was able to interpret. Joseph told him that his dream was a portent of good tidings that he would soon be liberated from jail and that Pharaoh would restore him to his position of prominence at court. In exchange for bringing such good news, all Joseph asked in return was “to think of me when all is well with you again, and do me the kindness of mentioning me to Pharaoh, so as to free me from this place.”
Of course, once he was liberated, the cupbearer was so taken with his own good fortune that he forgot Joseph and his jailhouse promise. Perhaps the memories of the jail were too painful to face; perhaps the cupbearer simply felt he had his good fortune coming to him anyway. For whatever reason, he didn’t fulfill his promise to Joseph, with the result that Joseph continued to languish in prison.
Then, one day in court, Pharaoh had a dream that filled him with fright. None of the magicians or sages of Egypt were able to interpret his dream, none could tell the king what his vision meant. As he saw the anguish on his sovereign’s face, the desperate cupbearer suddenly remembered his own brush with dream interpretation, and suddenly recalled the Hebrew boy in jail.
“The cupbearer then spoke up and said to Pharaoh, ‘I must make mention today of my offenses. Once Pharaoh was angry with his servants, and placed me in custody in the house of the chief steward … We had dreams … A Hebrew youth was there with us … and when we told him our dreams, he interpreted them for us.”
Now, the story proceeds to relate the encounter of Pharaoh and Joseph, with ponderous consequences for subsequent Jewish history. But for the moment, let’s focus on the remarkable insight of the cupbearer. In a rare moment of honesty and insight, he recognizes his own ingratitude, his own sin in forgetting his promise to Joseph.
Midrash Bereshit Rabbah understands his mentioning his own offenses as “I have been guilty of two faults, he confessed: One, that I did not deal kindly with Joseph and mention him to you; the other, that I saw you troubled about the interpretation of a dream, yet did not reveal to you that he knows its interpretation.”
From the perspective of the Midrash, the cupbearer had sinned in neglecting his obligation to help Joseph out of his desperate straits. But he had also sinned in seeing Pharaoh’s anguish and standing silently by when he was in a position to offer help. His silence when he could speak was an offense in itself.
Imagine his courage, when he could have simply continued his silence, in speaking out to Pharaoh, in confessing his own shortcoming. In doing so, he took a tremendous risk: The anger of Pharaoh, the scorn of the court. And yet his courageous stand, admitting his own fault publicly, was the necessary first step in correcting his error.
That first step is necessary for every one of us. Covering up our own sins can only perpetuate them. Only after we acknowledge our errors and denounce them, can we hope to transcend and correct them.
Our salvation, as always, lies in honestly admitting our imperfections and then seeking the assistance of God, our families, friends, and communities in overcoming those same flaws.
The path to perfection begins with the admission that we are not perfect.
Shabbat Shalom