Parshat Bo
by Rabbi Avi Billet
When one reads through Shmot Chapter 12, it becomes quite clear that blood will play a significant role in bringing about the salvation of the Hebrew slaves at the midnight hour when Egypt will be struck its most devastating blow.
Verses 7, 13, 22 and 23, when run together, read something like this.
"They must take the blood and place it on the two doorposts and on the beam above the door of the houses in which they will eat [the sacrifice]. The blood will be a sign for you on the houses where you are staying. I will see the blood and pass you by (pasach). There will not be any deadly plague among you when I strike Egypt. {Instructions to the elders are to tell the people to] 'Take a bunch of hyssop and dip it into the blood that [will be placed] in a basin. Touch the beam over the door and the two doorposts with some of the blood in the basin. Not a single one of you may go out the door of his house until morning. God will then pass through to strike Egypt. When he sees the blood over the door and on the two doorposts, God will pass over that door, and not let the force of destruction enter your houses to strike.'"
The Ktav V'Hakabalah asks a seemingly obvious question. Does God really need the blood as a sign? If He wants to distinguish between the Egyptians who suffer in the plague and the Israelites who are spared, could He not just say "My wonders will be proven by the fact that Egyptians will die and Israelites will not"?
Ibn Ezra rejects the notion that the blood was a derivative of a public process aimed at showing the Egyptians who is boss. Were it so, he argues, the blood would have been put on courtyard gates instead of on the doorway of homes recessed from the street, and the slaughtering of the lamb would have taken place in the daytime, instead of closer to nighttime when people are already in their homes. Ibn Ezra even derives from "The blood will be a sign for you" that you, who cannot go outside all night, will be able to see the blood because it will be on the inside of your home.
But the Ktav V'Hakabalah has an entirely different perspective, which introduces much deeper symbolism than a mere "sticking-it" to the Egyptians. The Israelites had many obstacles to their own redemption. They were idolators! They needed to achieve a spiritual purity (taharah) that had eluded them for a very long time.
The Korban Pesach (Paschal offering) was meant to serve as a first step in their stepping away from and rejection of Egyptian idolatry of the sheep. The second element of their return to God was a complete rejection of their former fears of their Egyptian masters. And the last element of their return to God was the public nature of their actions.
He brings four examples of the how they publicized the deed: First, the animals were led through the street, before the slaughtering was done publicly (#2), while the gathering of families providing the third ingredient in drawing attention. The nail in the coffin, so to speak, was placing the blood on the doorpost for all to see.
Didn't the Ibn Ezra say the blood was placed inside the home, as a sign for the Israelites alone? He did. But the Ktav V'Hakabalah is one step ahead when he quotes the Mechilta who says the blood was placed on the outside. This public display of the blood of the lamb was another step in the rejection of the sheep-as-god mentality.
All this is very nice insofar as the process through which the people go. But it does not answer whether God needed a sign! The answer is that of course God did not need a sign. If God could distinguish between which animals were Egyptian-owned and which animals were Israelite-owned, He could surely distinguish between Egyptians and Israelites.
The reason for the blood, then, is that it is through blood that covenants are forged. A blood oath involves the mixing of bloods, "The process usually provides a participant with a heightened symbolic sense of attachment with another participant." (Wikipedia, "Blood Brother")
The Shakh claims that as males who are not circumcised may not participate in the eating of the korban pesach, a major circumcision festival needed to take place (based on 12:50). As such there were ample samples of blood available to be mixed together – blood from the lamb, from the circumcisions, and from the removal of the mucosal membrane (not from metzitzah!)
The blood, therefore, becomes highly symbolic. Putting it on the door is an indicator that those in the home fulfill the will of God. But the placement of this particular mixture of blood, stands to serve as a "reminder," so to speak, to God, of the mark of the covenant that connects this people to Him for eternity. This reminder is what prevents the death force from making its way into the homes of the Israelites.
In this respect, the sign-on-the-door for humans is significant for them because their own blood is in it. But it really is for God, who reminds the people over and over that each plague was meant to make His name well known in the land. This goal is further represented by the blood on the door, a mark which is fresh, which will last long beyond when the Israelite's leave town, and will be seen by those who explore the ghost town of Goshen.
It is the symbol of God's dominance over the Egyptian deity, combined with the covenant He forged with Abraham, that brought about the creation of the nation that left Egypt with a strong hand.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
Nominated for Best Supporting Role
Parshat Va'era
by Rabbi Avi Billet
I have a hard time understanding the role of Aharon, Moshe's brother, in the exodus story.
When he is first appointed to be the leader/redeemer of Israel, Moshe presents a number of arguments as to why he is not the best man for the job. He may even hint to the idea that Aharon would be a more worthy choice.
God's response in 4:14 is a display of anger, followed by "Is not Aharon the Levite your brother? I know that he knows how to speak! He is setting out to meet you, and when he sees you, his heart will be glad."
In other words, if you Moshe are nervous about speaking to Pharaoh, Aharon will take care of this for you. In fact, the first time we see Aharon speaking on Moshe's behalf is in 4:30, when he addresses the nation of Israel, convincing them that Moshe was sent by God: "Aaron related all the words that God had told Moses, and he demonstrated the miraculous proofs before the people."
When they came to Pharaoh in chapter 5, we were told "Moshe and Aharon then went to Pharaoh and said, 'This is what Hashem, God of the Hebrews, declares: 'Let My people leave, so they can sacrifice to Me in the desert.''" In this instance, the indications point to Aharon and Moshe sharing the limelight.
But after this, the narrative presents a different story.
In our parsha, "Moshe related this to the Israelites, but because of their disappointment and hard work, they would no longer listen to him." (6:9) Note how Moshe is the speaker.
A little while later, after twice claiming his unease with the prospect of speaking to Pharaoh after having being denied by his own people, we see "God said to Moses, 'Observe! I will be making you like a god to Pharaoh, and your brother Aharon will be your prophet. You must announce all that I order you to, and your brother Aharon will relate it to Pharaoh. He will then let the Israelites leave his land."
As clear as it seems that Aharon is going to be Moshe's mouthpiece, we don't really see that coming to fruition. Certainly not in the times they relate to Pharaoh.
So why all the hype about Aharon? Moshe is very clearly the leader, and while Aharon does speak once or twice in Moshe's place, Moshe seems very capable of holding his own – with the people and with Pharaoh. Why are they, in many respects, viewed as equals?
Because Moshe needed to grow into his role. That he was chosen by God on account of the character and qualities he possessed is clear. But, like any human leader, the fact of being chosen (or elected) does not mean the person is completely ready for the job. A President or Prime Minister might be a great leader, but it does not mean the person is prepared for all the intricacies of the job, or is even a great public speaker. This is why people like a press secretary and a public relations representative have jobs. Obviously a public speaking ability is a tremendous asset. But sometimes a person needs to grow into that comfort zone.
Moshe cared for the underdogs in every fight he ever encountered. And Egyptian bondage, in that sense, was perfect for him to battle head-on. No one is as needy for an advocate as are slaves.
But it's a little different when one does his own private vigilantism versus when one has to play political hardball, and stand up against a despot in an arena that is not only very real, but carries the safety and future of an entire nation on its shoulders.
Having lived in Egypt his whole life, and having been in the trenches with the people, Aharon was a great supporting character to wean Moshe into his new role.
But Moshe adapted quickly (there are plenty of commentaries who explain that he did not have a speech impediment, but was very nervous about his assignment) and was quickly able to say, "Thanks for offering Aharon as my support staff. He will be a tremendous help in other ways. But I no longer need him to be my mouthpiece."
May we all be blessed to have such loyal mentors in our lives. Moshe was able to fill his roll with such ease and so quickly because he had his brother Aharon guiding him, with class, dignity, and with a sense of support which said, "I'm there if you need me, but I look forward to cutting the strings and removing the training wheels so you will be able to fly on your own."
by Rabbi Avi Billet
I have a hard time understanding the role of Aharon, Moshe's brother, in the exodus story.
When he is first appointed to be the leader/redeemer of Israel, Moshe presents a number of arguments as to why he is not the best man for the job. He may even hint to the idea that Aharon would be a more worthy choice.
God's response in 4:14 is a display of anger, followed by "Is not Aharon the Levite your brother? I know that he knows how to speak! He is setting out to meet you, and when he sees you, his heart will be glad."
In other words, if you Moshe are nervous about speaking to Pharaoh, Aharon will take care of this for you. In fact, the first time we see Aharon speaking on Moshe's behalf is in 4:30, when he addresses the nation of Israel, convincing them that Moshe was sent by God: "Aaron related all the words that God had told Moses, and he demonstrated the miraculous proofs before the people."
When they came to Pharaoh in chapter 5, we were told "Moshe and Aharon then went to Pharaoh and said, 'This is what Hashem, God of the Hebrews, declares: 'Let My people leave, so they can sacrifice to Me in the desert.''" In this instance, the indications point to Aharon and Moshe sharing the limelight.
But after this, the narrative presents a different story.
In our parsha, "Moshe related this to the Israelites, but because of their disappointment and hard work, they would no longer listen to him." (6:9) Note how Moshe is the speaker.
A little while later, after twice claiming his unease with the prospect of speaking to Pharaoh after having being denied by his own people, we see "God said to Moses, 'Observe! I will be making you like a god to Pharaoh, and your brother Aharon will be your prophet. You must announce all that I order you to, and your brother Aharon will relate it to Pharaoh. He will then let the Israelites leave his land."
As clear as it seems that Aharon is going to be Moshe's mouthpiece, we don't really see that coming to fruition. Certainly not in the times they relate to Pharaoh.
So why all the hype about Aharon? Moshe is very clearly the leader, and while Aharon does speak once or twice in Moshe's place, Moshe seems very capable of holding his own – with the people and with Pharaoh. Why are they, in many respects, viewed as equals?
Because Moshe needed to grow into his role. That he was chosen by God on account of the character and qualities he possessed is clear. But, like any human leader, the fact of being chosen (or elected) does not mean the person is completely ready for the job. A President or Prime Minister might be a great leader, but it does not mean the person is prepared for all the intricacies of the job, or is even a great public speaker. This is why people like a press secretary and a public relations representative have jobs. Obviously a public speaking ability is a tremendous asset. But sometimes a person needs to grow into that comfort zone.
Moshe cared for the underdogs in every fight he ever encountered. And Egyptian bondage, in that sense, was perfect for him to battle head-on. No one is as needy for an advocate as are slaves.
But it's a little different when one does his own private vigilantism versus when one has to play political hardball, and stand up against a despot in an arena that is not only very real, but carries the safety and future of an entire nation on its shoulders.
Having lived in Egypt his whole life, and having been in the trenches with the people, Aharon was a great supporting character to wean Moshe into his new role.
But Moshe adapted quickly (there are plenty of commentaries who explain that he did not have a speech impediment, but was very nervous about his assignment) and was quickly able to say, "Thanks for offering Aharon as my support staff. He will be a tremendous help in other ways. But I no longer need him to be my mouthpiece."
May we all be blessed to have such loyal mentors in our lives. Moshe was able to fill his roll with such ease and so quickly because he had his brother Aharon guiding him, with class, dignity, and with a sense of support which said, "I'm there if you need me, but I look forward to cutting the strings and removing the training wheels so you will be able to fly on your own."
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Doing Egypt a Favor
Parshat Shmot
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Every time the United States considers a political or military confrontation with a foreign hostile nation, the liberal caveat is often emphasized that "we have no beef with the people of ___ - all we want to do is see this rogue regime ousted."
And so I wonder how much the people of Egypt really bought into Pharaoh's greater plans. Even most of Pharaoh's decrees seem to be focused on making life difficult for people – but genocide is never an option. The infanticide discussion lasted more verses than it seems to have been carried out.
Don't misunderstand and think I am defending Egyptian slavery. But after over a hundred years of the serf-state that Egypt had become one has to wonder if in their day-to-day interactions Everyman Egyptian and Everyman Israelite saw their status quo as a mere reality, the former being the upper class and the latter being the stranger-turned-serf-turned-slave, while the human side of their relationships were deeper.
To point, when the Israelites leave Egypt, there is much discussion as to how they received the wealth they took with them from Egypt. Was it borrowed, taken, or received as a gift or payment for the years of servitude? All of these approaches are discussed by the commentaries.
In her article on this subject, Nechama Leibowitz records a unique approach suggested by Josephus, who says "The Egyptians honored them with these gifts, [some] in order to hasten their departure, and others out of the good neighborliness and the friendship they bore them. When they went forth the Egyptians wept and suffered remorse for the way they had treated them ill."
This approach hints to a society in which more than mere awareness of "the other" there was a familiarity between the natives and the visiting-slaves.
What, therefore, is the meaning of the message God gives Moshe at the burning bush, as to what "the Israelites will do to or for the Egyptians when they leave with silver vessels, gold vessels, and clothing?"
The Torah says "V'nitzaltem et Mitzrayim." (Shmot 3:22) Artscroll translates it "You shall empty out Egypt." The Living Torah (Aryeh Kaplan) suggests "You will thus drain Egypt [of its wealth]." Rabbi S.R. Hirsch (as translated to English by David Haberman) has it as "You will cause Egypt to deplete themselves." The Soncino Chumash: "ye shall spoil the Egyptians" – meaning, you'll take all their possessions as spoils.
Benno Jacob's commentary on this verse is most insightful and instructive. He suggested that owing to the root of "v'nitzaltem" (to save), and the fact that the word, when it appears elsewhere in the Bible, never has the direct object (in this case "Egypt") as being the one from whom the saving takes place (the direct object is always the one being saved), it must mean "You will save the Egyptians," – you will clear their name, and vindicate the humanity of the Egyptians.
To avoid bitter feelings, and to restore a sense of humanity to the term "Egyptians," a friendly parting and generous gifts would smooth the transaction. As Rabbi J.H. Hertz quotes B. Jacob, "the Israelites would come to see that the oppressors were Pharaoh and his courtiers, not the Egyptian people."
He concludes with the suggestion that this view would help them carry out the mitzvah in Devarim 23:8 "not to abhor an Egyptian." "It is for this reason that the Israelites are bidden to ask their neighbors for these gifts, to ensure such a parting in friendship and goodwill, with its consequent clearing of the name and vindication of the honor of the Egyptian people."
Many would like to argue that it is the loudmouth leadership in rogue regimes that become the mouthpiece for an unfortunate silent majority who would not agree if they had a voice and a chance to express an opinion without fearing for their lives. Was Egypt the same way?
The approach suggested by Benno Jacob lends itself to the possibility that like the rows and rows of trees at Yad Vashem dedicated to righteous gentiles who saved Jews during the Holocaust, not everyone in ancient Egypt was a cruel taskmaster.
If we believe in the possibility that humans are capable of being, want to be, or are good, we need to create opportunities for others to demonstrate this. We must open our minds to the possibility that those who seem to be the bitterest of our enemies may be stuck behind a façade they cannot break through on account of fear.
Let us hope and pray that those itching to befriend our people can do so in safety, peace, with no fear for their lives, and can have the redeeming experience they so desperately need so they can live out their lives as free men and women.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Every time the United States considers a political or military confrontation with a foreign hostile nation, the liberal caveat is often emphasized that "we have no beef with the people of ___ - all we want to do is see this rogue regime ousted."
And so I wonder how much the people of Egypt really bought into Pharaoh's greater plans. Even most of Pharaoh's decrees seem to be focused on making life difficult for people – but genocide is never an option. The infanticide discussion lasted more verses than it seems to have been carried out.
Don't misunderstand and think I am defending Egyptian slavery. But after over a hundred years of the serf-state that Egypt had become one has to wonder if in their day-to-day interactions Everyman Egyptian and Everyman Israelite saw their status quo as a mere reality, the former being the upper class and the latter being the stranger-turned-serf-turned-slave, while the human side of their relationships were deeper.
To point, when the Israelites leave Egypt, there is much discussion as to how they received the wealth they took with them from Egypt. Was it borrowed, taken, or received as a gift or payment for the years of servitude? All of these approaches are discussed by the commentaries.
In her article on this subject, Nechama Leibowitz records a unique approach suggested by Josephus, who says "The Egyptians honored them with these gifts, [some] in order to hasten their departure, and others out of the good neighborliness and the friendship they bore them. When they went forth the Egyptians wept and suffered remorse for the way they had treated them ill."
This approach hints to a society in which more than mere awareness of "the other" there was a familiarity between the natives and the visiting-slaves.
What, therefore, is the meaning of the message God gives Moshe at the burning bush, as to what "the Israelites will do to or for the Egyptians when they leave with silver vessels, gold vessels, and clothing?"
The Torah says "V'nitzaltem et Mitzrayim." (Shmot 3:22) Artscroll translates it "You shall empty out Egypt." The Living Torah (Aryeh Kaplan) suggests "You will thus drain Egypt [of its wealth]." Rabbi S.R. Hirsch (as translated to English by David Haberman) has it as "You will cause Egypt to deplete themselves." The Soncino Chumash: "ye shall spoil the Egyptians" – meaning, you'll take all their possessions as spoils.
Benno Jacob's commentary on this verse is most insightful and instructive. He suggested that owing to the root of "v'nitzaltem" (to save), and the fact that the word, when it appears elsewhere in the Bible, never has the direct object (in this case "Egypt") as being the one from whom the saving takes place (the direct object is always the one being saved), it must mean "You will save the Egyptians," – you will clear their name, and vindicate the humanity of the Egyptians.
To avoid bitter feelings, and to restore a sense of humanity to the term "Egyptians," a friendly parting and generous gifts would smooth the transaction. As Rabbi J.H. Hertz quotes B. Jacob, "the Israelites would come to see that the oppressors were Pharaoh and his courtiers, not the Egyptian people."
He concludes with the suggestion that this view would help them carry out the mitzvah in Devarim 23:8 "not to abhor an Egyptian." "It is for this reason that the Israelites are bidden to ask their neighbors for these gifts, to ensure such a parting in friendship and goodwill, with its consequent clearing of the name and vindication of the honor of the Egyptian people."
Many would like to argue that it is the loudmouth leadership in rogue regimes that become the mouthpiece for an unfortunate silent majority who would not agree if they had a voice and a chance to express an opinion without fearing for their lives. Was Egypt the same way?
The approach suggested by Benno Jacob lends itself to the possibility that like the rows and rows of trees at Yad Vashem dedicated to righteous gentiles who saved Jews during the Holocaust, not everyone in ancient Egypt was a cruel taskmaster.
If we believe in the possibility that humans are capable of being, want to be, or are good, we need to create opportunities for others to demonstrate this. We must open our minds to the possibility that those who seem to be the bitterest of our enemies may be stuck behind a façade they cannot break through on account of fear.
Let us hope and pray that those itching to befriend our people can do so in safety, peace, with no fear for their lives, and can have the redeeming experience they so desperately need so they can live out their lives as free men and women.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
I Love Being Surprised In This Way (A Nice Story)
This experience might belong in my bris milah blog because it only happened to me because of my being a mohel. Since it is more in line with the "rabbi without a cause" mantra (as opposed to being about a bris), I am sharing it here.
I am in Puerto Rico for a bris.
My host, the baby's father, picked me up this morning and brought me to Chabad for Shacharis. Including us there were about 15 people there - mostly Americans and Israelis.
Back at the hotel elevator, two men came out as I was about to go up. As the door was closing, one of them stuck his hand back in to prevent it from closing. [I thought it was someone else trying to catch the elevator at first...]
He said something in Spanish which I did not understand, then he said to me "Spanish?"
No. I don't speak Spanish.
Then he said, "Minyan? Yesh minyan?" (is there a minyan here?)
Yes. There was one at Chabad - I just came from there.
"Eifoh Chabad?" (where is Chabad?)
I don't know. Someone brought me there.
Then he lifted his arm, which was uncovered because he was wearing shortsleeves, and I saw he had the tefillin markings that stay on the arm for a little while after wearing tefillin.
He said, with an only-slightly exasperated tinge which suggested I-wish-I-had-known, "Hitpalalti b'yachid" (meaning, I davened by myself in my hotel room).
That the man is Jewish is no surprise. Jews are everywhere. That he had worn tefillin and might have otherwise been at the minyan had he known about it was quite unexpected. Seeing tefillin markings on others' arms is normal where I live. But seeing them on someone's arm in a hotel in Puerto Rico somehow seemed out of place. Maybe it comes from my living in a certain kind of homogeneous environment, that I don't expect someone who does not wear a kippah to have worn tefillin. I know there are Sefardim and Israelis (and some Ashkenazi Jews as well) who will wear tefillin and will wear the kippah when davening, learning, and eating. But in a different context, such as a fairly vibrant Jewish community, it is normal and expected.
But here in San Juan?
I was smiling all the way up in the elevator.
I am in Puerto Rico for a bris.
My host, the baby's father, picked me up this morning and brought me to Chabad for Shacharis. Including us there were about 15 people there - mostly Americans and Israelis.
Back at the hotel elevator, two men came out as I was about to go up. As the door was closing, one of them stuck his hand back in to prevent it from closing. [I thought it was someone else trying to catch the elevator at first...]
He said something in Spanish which I did not understand, then he said to me "Spanish?"
No. I don't speak Spanish.
Then he said, "Minyan? Yesh minyan?" (is there a minyan here?)
Yes. There was one at Chabad - I just came from there.
"Eifoh Chabad?" (where is Chabad?)
I don't know. Someone brought me there.
Then he lifted his arm, which was uncovered because he was wearing shortsleeves, and I saw he had the tefillin markings that stay on the arm for a little while after wearing tefillin.
He said, with an only-slightly exasperated tinge which suggested I-wish-I-had-known, "Hitpalalti b'yachid" (meaning, I davened by myself in my hotel room).
That the man is Jewish is no surprise. Jews are everywhere. That he had worn tefillin and might have otherwise been at the minyan had he known about it was quite unexpected. Seeing tefillin markings on others' arms is normal where I live. But seeing them on someone's arm in a hotel in Puerto Rico somehow seemed out of place. Maybe it comes from my living in a certain kind of homogeneous environment, that I don't expect someone who does not wear a kippah to have worn tefillin. I know there are Sefardim and Israelis (and some Ashkenazi Jews as well) who will wear tefillin and will wear the kippah when davening, learning, and eating. But in a different context, such as a fairly vibrant Jewish community, it is normal and expected.
But here in San Juan?
I was smiling all the way up in the elevator.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
The Sword and the Bow
Parshat Vaychi
by Rabbi Avi Billet
In the last verse in Chapter 48, Yaakov promises Yosef the city of Shechem "which I took from the Emorites with my sword and bow."
Up until now the only thing we know about any "taking of the city of Shechem" is that Shimon and Levi took up arms and massacred the males of the city in retaliation for the treatment accorded to their sister Dinah. Yaakov's reaction to their armed encounter was anything but positive and supportive. Some say this is what Yaakov is referring to. But this seems hardly likely.
What could Yaakov be referring to?
The Yalkut Shimoni (towards the end of 133) quotes "our rabbis" who described a tremendous battle which took place – not in the immediate aftermath of the Shechem massacre, but seven years later when the Emorites all gathered against Yaakov's family to avenge the fall of their brethren in Shechem. The passage is quite long, and the details are fascinating. Targum Yonatan also makes reference to this military encounter, as does Rashi in the first opinion he records.
Whether the events as described took place is surely debatable, but from one perspective, Yaakov could be referring to his conquerings in this war with the Emorites. Ramban, however, looks at a model forged by Elisha in the book of Kings II 13, in which he instructed King Yoash to shoot arrows in the direction of Aram to symbolize the victory that was to come over their land. Ramban suggests that Yaakov similarly asserted his power through the same symbolic action.
Some suggest the "taking" refers to the purchase he made in 33:19 "He bought the piece of open land upon which he set up his tent for 100 kesitahs from the sons of Chamor…" But how do we then explain the "sword and bow?" The Targum Yerushalmi introduces an idea others expand upon – that the "sword and bow" are not meant to be taken literally, but refer instead to merits that allowed Yaakov to "take" the land. Rashi, for example, explains the metaphor as his "wisdom and prayers." Rabbi Chaim Paltiel even backs up this assertion explaining Onkelos' interpretation of the phrase "b'charbi u'vkashti" (with my sword and my bow) as to be read [with a 'heh' in place of the 'chet'] "b'harbi u[b]vakashati" – meaning with my prayers and my requests.
Another similar interpretation is offered by the Seforno who says "my sword and bow" refers to "my knowledge and understanding" which are the weapons of the righteous (based on Tehillim 45:4) (see also Shabbat 63a).
Rashbam and Radak surmise that Yaakov is making reference to a future war that Yehoshua will wage when they conquer the land, a fact Chizkuni claims refers to all the battles that will be waged in the conquering of the land. The Emorites are given the credit of ownership, Ibn Ezra explains, simply because they were considered the strongest of the nations. And Radak clarifies that since Yehoshua 24:12 says "sword and bow" were not yielded in order to win, they refer to "the help of God" which act as a sword and bow.
Even if the "sword and bow" refer to the wars of the future in their totality, this does not explain why Yaakov, who is about to die and will certainly not be present for those future wars, attributes the weapons to himself! Rabbenu Bachaye suggests he does so because it will be his merits which will be leading the battles and bringing about success on the battlefield (see Tehillim 44:4 which alludes to the merits of the fathers which deliver military success).
Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch sees this verse as the paradigm of Yaakov's proudest moments which he is bequeathing to his children. "That my children, though they were living among the Emorites, did not become Emorites themselves – such that they gather around me and I call them all 'Israel' – these represent my conquests, my victories, which I wrested from the Emorites."
While I don't think any of these are foolproof interpretations, I do believe that Yaakov's comment contains much depth. Whether referring to actual battles of the past or future, or of the battlefield of the mind or spirit in which Yaakov and his family overcame great odds and obstacles to take a stand for what they believed in and to maintain their identities and their way of life, Yaakov does express pride in the journey he and his family have taken to get to where they are.
We too ought to know what we stand for and make great strides to achieve our goals. It is the truly blessed who can confidently bless one's children at one's death bed saying, "I look back on my life and bequeath to you my greatest successes and proudest moments, which have defined my life, and the lives you continue to live in fulfillment of the legacy I set out to create when I began both my life as an adult and the family that I leave behind."
by Rabbi Avi Billet
In the last verse in Chapter 48, Yaakov promises Yosef the city of Shechem "which I took from the Emorites with my sword and bow."
Up until now the only thing we know about any "taking of the city of Shechem" is that Shimon and Levi took up arms and massacred the males of the city in retaliation for the treatment accorded to their sister Dinah. Yaakov's reaction to their armed encounter was anything but positive and supportive. Some say this is what Yaakov is referring to. But this seems hardly likely.
What could Yaakov be referring to?
The Yalkut Shimoni (towards the end of 133) quotes "our rabbis" who described a tremendous battle which took place – not in the immediate aftermath of the Shechem massacre, but seven years later when the Emorites all gathered against Yaakov's family to avenge the fall of their brethren in Shechem. The passage is quite long, and the details are fascinating. Targum Yonatan also makes reference to this military encounter, as does Rashi in the first opinion he records.
Whether the events as described took place is surely debatable, but from one perspective, Yaakov could be referring to his conquerings in this war with the Emorites. Ramban, however, looks at a model forged by Elisha in the book of Kings II 13, in which he instructed King Yoash to shoot arrows in the direction of Aram to symbolize the victory that was to come over their land. Ramban suggests that Yaakov similarly asserted his power through the same symbolic action.
Some suggest the "taking" refers to the purchase he made in 33:19 "He bought the piece of open land upon which he set up his tent for 100 kesitahs from the sons of Chamor…" But how do we then explain the "sword and bow?" The Targum Yerushalmi introduces an idea others expand upon – that the "sword and bow" are not meant to be taken literally, but refer instead to merits that allowed Yaakov to "take" the land. Rashi, for example, explains the metaphor as his "wisdom and prayers." Rabbi Chaim Paltiel even backs up this assertion explaining Onkelos' interpretation of the phrase "b'charbi u'vkashti" (with my sword and my bow) as to be read [with a 'heh' in place of the 'chet'] "b'harbi u[b]vakashati" – meaning with my prayers and my requests.
Another similar interpretation is offered by the Seforno who says "my sword and bow" refers to "my knowledge and understanding" which are the weapons of the righteous (based on Tehillim 45:4) (see also Shabbat 63a).
Rashbam and Radak surmise that Yaakov is making reference to a future war that Yehoshua will wage when they conquer the land, a fact Chizkuni claims refers to all the battles that will be waged in the conquering of the land. The Emorites are given the credit of ownership, Ibn Ezra explains, simply because they were considered the strongest of the nations. And Radak clarifies that since Yehoshua 24:12 says "sword and bow" were not yielded in order to win, they refer to "the help of God" which act as a sword and bow.
Even if the "sword and bow" refer to the wars of the future in their totality, this does not explain why Yaakov, who is about to die and will certainly not be present for those future wars, attributes the weapons to himself! Rabbenu Bachaye suggests he does so because it will be his merits which will be leading the battles and bringing about success on the battlefield (see Tehillim 44:4 which alludes to the merits of the fathers which deliver military success).
Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch sees this verse as the paradigm of Yaakov's proudest moments which he is bequeathing to his children. "That my children, though they were living among the Emorites, did not become Emorites themselves – such that they gather around me and I call them all 'Israel' – these represent my conquests, my victories, which I wrested from the Emorites."
While I don't think any of these are foolproof interpretations, I do believe that Yaakov's comment contains much depth. Whether referring to actual battles of the past or future, or of the battlefield of the mind or spirit in which Yaakov and his family overcame great odds and obstacles to take a stand for what they believed in and to maintain their identities and their way of life, Yaakov does express pride in the journey he and his family have taken to get to where they are.
We too ought to know what we stand for and make great strides to achieve our goals. It is the truly blessed who can confidently bless one's children at one's death bed saying, "I look back on my life and bequeath to you my greatest successes and proudest moments, which have defined my life, and the lives you continue to live in fulfillment of the legacy I set out to create when I began both my life as an adult and the family that I leave behind."
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