Friday, November 26, 2021

The Humility Theme of Vayeshev

 Parshat Vayeshev

by Rabbi Avi Billet

One of the themes of Chanukah is outlined in the Al HaNissim prayer when we hear of the defeat of the רבים (many) at the hands of the few (ביד מעטים). 
One wonders what that must have felt like, to know you are significantly outnumbered by both the Assyrian Greeks and the Hellenized Jews, and yet to know that your truth has merit and value and that there is nothing they can say or do to have you abandon your beliefs. There is a humility that surely comes from the overwhelming outnumbering while also realizing that when you trust in God, you are not alone. That too is very humbling. 

 As the narrative of the Torah shifts from focusing on Yaakov to focusing on Yosef and his brothers, one other brother features significantly in the coming narratives, Yehuda. (That Yehuda’s name is reflective of the first time someone in the Torah is recorded of having given thanks so there is the Thanksgiving connection for those who are looking for it!) 

 Over time, many leaders of the Jewish people were from these tribes. Yehoshua bin Nun was from Ephraim (Yosef). Five of the Judges (Shoftim) were from Yosef’s tribes, while  2 were from Yehuda. $$$$$$$ The kingdoms of Israel, after the division, were often referred to as the Kingdom of Yehuda (source of the word Jew) and the kingdom of Ephraim. The books of prophets sometimes refer to the conflict between בית יהודה and בית יוסף or אפרים. 

 Both Yehuda and Yosef are described in Vayeshev as experiencing a descent – Yosef to Egypt and Yehuda from his brothers (38:1) – and they both rise to their final confrontation in Parshat Vayigash when they clash over Binyamin’s fate.

What makes them the leaders of their siblings, then and through the centuries and even millennia to follow – as we ultimately await both משיח בן יוסף and משיח בן דוד? 

Despite Yaakov’s favoritism towards him, Yosef is nevertheless viewed by some of the classic commentaries as someone who didn’t let his position get to his head. He is described as a נער to the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah. Haktav V’hakabbalah explains the word “Naar” here as a “meshares” – one who serves someone else. “היה יוסף מתנהג במדת ענוה ושפלות לשרת את בני בלהה וזלפה אף שהם בני השפחות” – Yosef conducted himself with humility and submission to serve the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah even though they were the sons of the maids. Rabbi Mecklenberg (Haktav…) suggests that Yosef’s dreams – which aim to demonstrate how he’d rise in the family – were only shown to him on account of his humility, because “כי לפני כבוד ענוה, ועקב ענוה עושר וכבוד” – as Mishlei says. Humility is first, then honor comes. And it’s not because one seeks or demands the kavod. But it is there. And, presumably, even if people give it, the person is still running from it. 

 That is real humility. 

 In Yosef’s case, his loftiness wasn’t coming from himself. It came to him as a sort of prophesy, in the form of a dream. 

 But even for Yosef, it was a process. And not a simple one. The Or HaChaim notes that all that Yosef went through, in being sold as a slave and serving in Potiphar’s court and eventually landing in prison all turns out to be washed away when he becomes a king in Egypt. The suffering, the (noun) humbling one experiences is not counted when it is a means to a goal, such as the one Yosef ultimately achieved. (we’ll return to this point below) 

 Yosef’s humility continues when his father calls him to send him to his brothers in Shechem, into the lions’ den. Despite every warning and sign sent his way, Yosef still says “את אחי אנכי מבקש” – I am seeking my brothers – when he could have turned around and gone home. 

 Because he doesn’t care if they hate him, if they are jealous of him. He wants a connection. And he is going out of his comfort zone, being near their father, in order to find them. 

In noting his Middos, Malbim says every person has characterisitcs that pull him or her in opposite directions: haughty v humble. Spendthrift v miserly. Merciful v Cruel. Yosef followed the second of the following three life options outlined by Malbim. 
1. Following one’s nature – whether good or bad. 
 2. One who follows one’s sechel – which distinguishes between tzaddik and Rasha 
3. And one who behaves differently, depending on who the people around him are. A wicked person, for example, humbles himself before those more wealthy and more powerful, and behaves like an arrogant cruel person to the humble, kind, righteous people 

Yehuda 

We need to shift gears for a moment to examine Yehuda’s story. Yehuda starts off Chapter 38 being fairly controlling Tamar’s life. But then his wife passes away, and after Tamar meets Yehuda on the crossroads, when it is discovered that Tamar is pregnant, Yehuda’s power of her comes to a head when he says – הוציאוה ותשרף which either means burn her to death, brand her (similar to the Scarlet Letter), or some other punishment. 

When Yehuda is confronted with the reality that he is the father of her babies, his admission of her righteousness and being correct prompted Radak to note how humbling this admission is - a prelude to much of how the Davidic line functions. Think of Lot and his daughter – quite the scandal. Think of Ruth and Boaz – appropriate though very slightly scandalous. David and Bat Sheva – not appropriate and quite scandalous. Radak writes: לפי שמלכות נתנה האל לדוד ולזרעו עד עולם כדי שלא יתגאו מלכות יהודה על ישראל, ויזכרו צור חצבו ממנו ויהיו שפלי רוח וינהיגו המלכות בענוה ובתם לבב: God gave the kingship to the Davidic line so they should ALWAYS BE HUMBLE EVEN IN THEIR ROLE AS KINGS. 

Yehuda suffers in this story through the death of his two sons and his wife. He looks to a strange mysterious woman for a little comfort. Had there been no baby, no one would have known about it. And yet in his admission (and he had cause for plausible denial with Tamar keeping mum about the incident), he embarrassed and humiliated himself. 

How humbling. How leader-creating. 

There are plenty of ways to justify the actual physical encounter! He was single. She was single. They were technically Noachides. They were not forbidden to each other. Even if levirate marriage was a thing, the father can do this for the dead son. Yehuda wasn’t planning to have her punished because of what happened between him and her! He didn’t know she was the woman he had been with! He was having her punished because they assumed it was a Canaanite she had been with. But once he knew the truth… צקדה ממני.. And of course she was not punished. 

How many leaders today, caught in a scandal, admit their involvement and look to rectify? Too often they either lie, excuse, or simply resign so the news story will go away. 

These are the leaders of the Jewish people, in their infant stages of leadership. Yosef and Yehuda. 

Let’s return to the Or HaChaim’s comment, that the suffering one experiences is nothing if all’s well that ends well. Could such a thing be true? 

It really depends on the suffering, and what the “ends well” is.

It could work for Yosef! He was a young single guy who needed to pay his dues. He suffered through slavery and imprisonment and had a pretty good job for the rest of his life from the age of 30. During his difficult times he had no dependents who needed to rely on him. 

For Yehuda, even though he emerges with two new sons, it’s hard to say all is well in the end. 

People suffer. Suffering is part of life, and as many of us know all too well, there was never a guarantee that anything would be smooth sailing. 

Yosef and Yehuda learned and modeled for us. When we look at the other person, and certainly when we contemplate the Almighty, what we should walk away with is the feeling of utmost humility. 

The humble person at least recognizes that the goodness I have in my life is a gift, and that in whatever way I feel God watching over me is the greatest Chesed. So if life throws curveballs and hard times my way, the tough times teach me humility and the goodness teaches me humility. And humility, both in any interaction with people and especially in one’s relationship with God, is what makes a metaphorical mountain out of a man or woman. 

A mountain doesn’t move, shift or budge, when a storm pummels it, or when a pickax strikes at it. The mountain may be hurt, it may have a slightly different shape, it may not always look the same. But it stands tall and has its head turned heavenward, as it simply and humbly fulfills its purpose on earth: to be a reliable rock that people can turn to, sometimes for direction, sometimes for a place to rest, sometimes for something to lean on, or even a challenge to climb and overcome, but always awe-inspiring as we take in its majesty.

Saturday, November 20, 2021

Death of Devorah

 Short thought on Vayishlach

A trivia question was recently presented to me: Name 7 women whose personal deaths are recorded in the Torah (in other words not as part of a group). Most of them are in the book of Bereishis (two are in the book of Bamidbar) and two of them are in our parsha. 

 While the death of Rachel is certainly tragic, one wonders about the death of Devorah, Rivkah’s “nurse” (35:8). In all likelihood she was very old, certainly even older than Sarah was at her death. And, her being a secondary character, it seems odd that her death would be recorded altogether in the Torah. The most common interpretations is that Devorah was sent to tell Yaakov to come home, or that Devorah was sent to tell Yaakov of the death of Rivkah. 

 But Midrash Aggadah suggests that Devorah was actually Rivkah’s mother, presumably accompanying Yaakov (at a very old age!) to hopefully see her daughter before her death. 

 And Midrash Sechel Tov indicates the significance of her being buried at the side of the road under a tree. To this latter idea perhaps it was a way of laying the groundwork (no pun intended) for the coming burial of Rachel, after Yaakov’s children had already seen that when someone dies while you’re traveling, you tend to burial needs right away. In this way, when Yaakov later needs to explain to Yosef from his sickbed in Egypt why he buried Rachel where he did, he need not go into heavy explanations because he knows Yosef saw how he had buried Devorah. 

 The lesson of respecting the dead was therefore well learned.

Friday, November 19, 2021

He Was Afraid and It Stressed Him

Parshat Vayishlach

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Our parsha opens with Yaakov sending a message to Eisav telling him of his experiences at Lavan’s house and the wealth which is accompanying him on his return to the land of Canaan. His messengers return with the news that “Eisav is coming to you, accompanied by 400 men.” Not knowing Eisav’s intent Yaakov’s initial reaction is described in the Torah in this way: ויירא יעקב מאד ויצר לו – and Yaakov was very afraid and it distressed him. 

 While most of the commentaries focus on what he feared and what distressed him, Netziv suggests that “that fear fell upon him distressed him, because from this he understood that badness was facing him.” [Alshikh similarly notes: וזהו ויירא ויצר לו על המורא] The idea that the fear itself distressed him is rather compelling because כבר אמר החכם העבר אין העתיד עדיין דאגה מנין – the wise one said ‘the past is gone, the future hasn’t happened yet, why worry?’ (see Piskei Teshuvot 230, footnote 20) 

What was really bothering Yaakov? 

Rashi says he was afraid he’d be killed and it distressed him that he might be forced to kill others. This view is suggested by many midrashim, and many commentaries use it as a starting point for their discussion on this verse, varying only in who Yaakov was afraid he may end up killing, Eisav himself or Eisav’s men (Gur Aryeh), many of whom may have had no skin in the fight but were brought there by force by Eisav (Siftei Chachamim indicates that Eisav’s men may have been instructed only to kill Yaakov’s men and not to touch Yaakov). The Pesikta adds that if Yaakov were to kill Eisav it would be a public relations nightmare, his killing someone who has been a. living in Eretz Yisrael, and b. most honoring his aged parents (see also Targum Yonatan). (Rashi later suggests Yaakov was concerned that “the sin” would cause him to have fewer merits – the sin being that he was away from home for 20 years.) Another possibility raised by the Pesikta is that Yaakov had passed the place where he made his vow (Bet El) and did not fulfill his vow by giving a 10th to the Almighty yet, putting him in a sinful position of not keeping his promise to God.

An additional concern raised by the Midrash Sechel Tov is that if Eisav is indeed coming to kill Yaakov, that could mean that Eisav’s commitment “When my father dies I will kill my brother” has come to pass, meaning Yitzchak has died and Yaakov will never see his father again (Daat Zekenim as well). 

Or HaChaim puts Yaakov’s dilemma in this way: Yaakov was afraid of not preparing for a fight, as Eisav might be coming to fight so Yaakov best be prepared for a confrontation. But it distressed him because perhaps Eisav had no evil intent at all, and were he to see Yaakov all dressed up for battle Eisav would come to the conclusion that Yaakov intends to do harm to him and his men, which would reawaken his hatred for Yaakov, which he had gotten over some time earlier. Chizkuni focuses on the stress of not knowing Eisav’s plans. [This is how he explains Yaakov’s two camps – one demonstrating love and affection and the other prepared for war.] B’chor Shor essentially paints this dilemma as a fear of the unknown. He was afraid and distressed simply because he did not know what to do! Ramban adds that since Yaakov’s messengers carried no return message from Eisav, their report was additionally distressing. 

Chizkuni goes in a different direction, focusing on the word מלאך, suggesting that while Yaakov had the angel Micha’el advocating for him and accompanying him, but Eisav had the angel Sama’el advocating for him and accompanying him. 

Ro”sh suggests that Yaakov alone had the merit when he crossed the Jordan alone just with a walking stick. Now that he has the responsibility of his entire family PLUS all his servants and animals, he does not know if his merit alone suffices to protect anyone else or certainly everyone else! Rabbenu Bachaye holds that he was simply worried for his family members, as anyone who faces uncertainty for them would worry. As Baal HaTurim notes – Yaakov was promised his children would be numerous – but perhaps that promise would be fulfilled through children not yet born.

Alshikh paints Yaakov as having a series of unknowns. 
1. Has Eisav’s anger subsided and has he let the past be forgotten? (This is why Yaakov sent messengers) 
2. When the messengers reported about the 400 men, would Eisav wait to kill him until after Yitzchak’s death as he had indicated, and instead take out all his wrath now against Yaakov’s belongings and family? 
3. Would Eisav’s merits (living in the Land, honoring his parents) be to his benefit in any confrontation? 

The Maharal asks how Yaakov could be afraid if, as the Talmud states, everything that God does is for the best! This would even include Eisav using his free will to kill Yaakov, because even if it goes against God’s wishes, God won’t stop a person from using his free will! [He doesn’t give a clear answer.

Bringing a most practical approach, Kli Yakar is of the view that Yaakov’s fear came from what he had just done (see opening paragraph above), in that he had sent messengers to Eisav to essentially flatter him into thinking that fighting with Yaakov was not in anyone’s best interest. The Talmud (Sotah 41b) quotes Rabbi Elazar as saying that anyone who flatters his friend will eventually fall into his friend’s hands. Between describing his wealth and referring to Eisav as his master and himself as the servant, Yaakov may have gone too far in flattering a person not deserving of that level of flattery, thus putting himself at risk from God’s perspective. 

 Malbim writes: “one who trusts in God need not fear a human being. Fear demonstrates that a person doesn’t have proper trust in God. Specficially because Yaakov had a promise/gurarantee from God and should not have been afraid, and because God doesn’t make miracles outside of nature happen for anyone except those with exceptional trust in Him, Yaakov’s becoming afraid distressed him very much because he knew he was unworthy of having miracles happen for himself” as perhaps happened to Avraham Avinu.

We all have stresses in life. These messages from the commentaries remind us that when we put our trust in God and dispense with worrying (not at all easy) we are demonstrating a sincere belief that He will carry us through to where we need to be. Not every road is smooth, not every path predictable. 

 Yaakov took his unpredictable path, and as Chatam Sofer, Rabbenu Bachaye and Malbim put it, he made the preparations he felt necessary to demonstrate how a person prepares for what it seemingly unknown.

It is certainly true that uncertainty and unknowns can be frightening, in so many aspects of the human experience. Most of the time we ignore them – for example, we likely don’t think we’ll get into a car accident every time we step behind a wheel.

We can learn from Yaakov, however, that stressing over unknowns when we think about them doesn’t help as much as having a plan of action, and having a trust in God that He will pull us through.

Friday, November 12, 2021

The Beautiful and Beloved Imahot

Parshat Vayetze 

by Rabbi Avi Billet

There are two times when a quality of Leah and Rachel is mentioned in our parsha – the first is immediately before Yaakov tells Lavan he will work for seven years to marry Rachel, the Torah inserts a parenthetical comment that “ועיני לאה רכות ורחל היתה יפץ תואר וטבת מראה.” (29:17) Leah’s eyes were “rakot” (see possible explanations below) and Rachel was very beautiful and pleasing to look at. 

The second time is shortly after Yaakov marries Rachel (according to most commentaries this happens a week after he marries Leah), the Torah tells us that “וירא ה' כי שנואה לאה ויפתח את רחמה ורחל עקרה.” And God saw that Leah was “s’nuah” and He opened her womb, while Rachel was (remained) barren. 

What are we to make of these depictions of their physical appearances and Leah’s status as mentioned before their respective wombs status? 

Rashi says Leah’s eyes were weak from crying. Everyone who knew the families said “Rivkah has two sons and Lavan has two daughters. The older (Eisav) will marry the older (Leah), and the younger (Yaakov) will marry the younger (Rachel).” [For many reasons it is hard to reconcile this rumor mill regarding two families which, though related, live hundreds of miles apart. But we’ll get back to this at the end.] 

Onkelos says the term describing Leah’s eyes means her eyes were beautiful. 

Ramban suggests Leah’s eyes may have been weakened by the sun. Along similar lines, Netziv says her eyes were sensitive and therefore she couldn’t be a shepherdess like her sister because she couldn’t spend too much time in the sun. 

Ibn Ezra quotes Ben Efrayim (likely a Kaaraite), who suggests the word “Rakot” is missing an Alef, and should have said “Arukhot” – meaning she had long eyes (Ibn Ezra doesn’t give full context, and we are left to conjecture as to what Ben Efrayim meant). Leaving aside the problem with the suggestion that the Torah is missing a letter, Ibn Ezra thinks the suggestion is so foolish he suggest that Ben Efrayim himself is missing an Alef – which either means means he is missing אלוף (wisdom), or that that Ben Efrayim’s name should be read Ben Parim – the son of cows – for making such a foolish suggestion (either way you look at it, clearly Ibn Ezra was not a fan of the Karaite). 

Rashbam says Leah’s eyes were pleasant, as the word “rakh” means soft. He concludes that a bride who has pleasant eyes does not need to be inspected for any other beautiful feature. (See Torah Temimah who makes a similar point quoting the Talmud Taanit 24a) 

Daat Zekeinim (Baalei Hatosafot) begin like Rashbam noting that “Rakot” means “soft and tender,” similar to the term “Rakh vatov” – soft and good. 

Then they say the parallel comparison of Leah’s eyes to Rachel’s beauty means the following: “She was beautiful because her eyes were beautiful, and she appeared soft and childlike. But Rachel was super praiseworthy in her beauty, save for the fact that her eyes were pained from crying because she feared she would fall into Eisav’s lot. [This fear was grounded in the fact that] she was barren, which would cause Yaakov to divorce her [for she could not bear children to him], which would cause Eisav to marry her off the rebound.” 

According to this, Leah’s eyes are mentioned because they were her most beautiful feature, while Rachel’s other beauty is focused upon, because her eyes were most unbecoming. 

The Sha"kh on the Torah (Rav Mordekhai HaKohen) goes in an entirely different direction than just about everyone else, somewhat related to the Daat Zekenim approach. 

When Rivkah first appeared on the scene in the Torah, we were immediately told וְהַנַּעֲרָ טֹבַת מַרְאֶה מְאֹד. Not so Rachel! She appeared on the scene, Yaakov first saw her, then he gave water to her sheep, then he kissed her, then he cried. After telling her why he gave her water, why he kissed her – because he is her cousin – he is brought to meet his uncle, who, after a month, asks him what his wages should be for working as a shepherd for Lavan's sheep. 

THEN the Torah tells us וְעֵינֵי לֵאָה רַכּוֹת וְרָחֵל הָיְתָה יְפַת תֹּאַר וִיפַת מַרְאֶה: :ח) וַיֶּאֱהַב יַעֲקֹב אֶת רָחֵל. After Yaakov had been around a month! 

Shakh writes: 
It would seem that Yaakov loved Rachel on account of her beauty… But it can’t be that this is so, for it would have told us when Yaakov first met her, ‘when Yaakov saw her, she was so beautiful, so he took the rock off the well for her…’ As a matter of fact, the Torah does not emphasize her beauty as it did with Rivkah! Rachel’s description was told to us not when she was introduced, but later, and is written in the past tense: Rachel – היתה יפת מראה - was [ie ‘had been’] beautiful and pleasant to look at. That was before she became a shepherd. Since then her beauty has depleted on account of her weariness, but Yaakov loved her nevertheless. When he heard she was a shepherd, he thought ‘Maybe she’s so ugly she became a shepherd. And because she’s so ugly, none of the male shepherds have anything to do with her.’ But when he saw her and how she resembled his mother, it tells us ‘when he saw her’ meaning her modesty, how she comes after all the shepherds, and walks among the sheep instead of in front of them, he knew she had nothing to do with the other shepherds. So he kissed her and told her of their relationship, to test her ‘welcoming guests’ skills. When she ran home to tell her father of their new guest, his feelings for her grew and the love became strong. 

This novel interpretation demonstrates what we all know to be true. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and is much deeper than skin deep. And no matter how we look at it, it is hard to come to a clear conclusion as to what the Torah is telling us through depicting Leah and Rachel in this way? 

The Alshikh explains Leah’s eyes were רכות from crying – but not as much because of what many suggest – the thought she might marry Eisav – but because she שהתחננה לה' ובכה תבכה. She would beseech God regularly and thus would cry. 

If the “talk of the town gossipers” (note brackets above in the 4th paragraph) is improbable due to distance and the likelihood that the people who knew Rivkah’s family did not know Lavan’s and vice versa, then Rachel’s personal fears of the possibility of not remaining married to Yaakov due to her own (perhaps known only to her) infertility is a fairly logical conclusion to draw. Her barrenness, then, is a feature to watch as Leah’s womb opens up with God’s help. 

So what are we to make of Leah being שנואה? Does that word mean hated? Or perhaps “less loved?” 

Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch writes “God chose precisely the one who felt slighted and disadvantaged, and made her the principal ancestress of His people. For the names that this less-loved wife gave to her sons show us that, precisely in her feeling of disadvantage, she was saturated with love for her husband; the names show us that she uplifted herself to fully appreciate the role of motherhood in the destiny of woman and the happiness of marriage, and that for both she cast her burden on God, Who sees and hears all and causes His Presence to dwell between man and woman. Her husband’s love was her goal, and with every child born to her, she hoped to add another layer to the foundation of this love. In the end, her hopes were fulfilled. What was denied to the bride and wife was granted to the mother of children.” 

There are certainly other possibilities of where this “hatred” feeling comes from.
 • He liked Leah as a cousin, but never wanted to marry her.
 • He had been tricked into marrying her, and hated her because he was victim of a rouse.
 • He had been tricked into marrying her, and he hated her because of her role in not owning up to her true identity,
 • She was a detestable woman, so he hated her. 

Some of these don’t really make sense. Because if Yaakov really hated her, it stands to reason he would have divorced her. After all, his marriage to her was made under false pretenses. 

So what does it mean that “she was hated?” A lot of it could have been in her mind, comparing herself to her sister. God’s perspective could also simply be a reflection of Leah’s feelings. It’s not farfetched to say that she was “less loved,” as the Torah doesn’t mince words in describing Yaakov’s love for Rachel (29:18,20,30) 

At the same time, Yaakov also gets angry at Rachel (30:2), in a manner we never see him treating Leah – even when Leah seems to be very forward after trading her “dudaim” (flowers – mandrakes?) to Rachel in exchange for the evening with Yaakov. 

So was it real hatred that was going on here? 

Reb Bunem of Pshischa had a different perspective in explaining Leah’s being “hated.” He suggests it is impossible that Yaakov hated her. Rather, she was hated by herself, the same way that a true righteous person is very hard on his or herself. She saw her own flaws, knew her inadequacies, may have had leftover feelings of sadness from the thought that at any time Yaakov might divorce her, leaving her open to being picked up by Eisav. 

Another approach, completely in the other direction, is the one offered by Rabbi Chaim Paltiel, based on one premise that Leah was actually greater than Rachel, and based on another premise that Yaakov actually felt Leah was out of his league (either because she was “too great” or because she was destined for Eisav). 

R Chaim Paltiel suggests the hatred was a rouse. “If I let on that I love her, Eisav’s hatred for ME will multiply.” And because Yaakov “hated her,” she had many children to contradict her beauty. Combining his approach here, we can better understand what he writes about Leah and Rachel’s beauty. 

He says Leah was more beautiful than Rachel. That’s why her eyes were weak!! Her father would hide her in an inner chamber, and when she’d emerge, her eyes became very sensitive because she was not used to light. 

 Presumably then, her having many children was a way to hide her beauty in case she’d ever encounter Eisav, who might otherwise be upset that Yaakov had taken his intended bride because who thinks of a busy mother in that way? Rabbi Paltiel even says that Rachel’s being depicted as beautiful by no means indicates she was more beautiful than Leah. 

Of course, there is a passage in Midrash Tanchuma which has Yaakov, in the morning, accusing Leah of being a liar and a cheat like her father, to which she responds, perhaps heartlessly, perhaps coldly, “It takes one to know one. Weren’t you the one who said to his father, ‘I am Eisav your first born!’” This, the Tanchuma suggests, is when Yaakov began to hate her. 

Leah is described as the Gedolah, in comparison to Rachel being the Ketanah, which can simply be a measure of older versus younger, but can also refer to a measure of greatness. The Midrash Aggadah suggests Leah was greater because she would eventually be the mother of Kehunah and Malchus (see also Rabbi Eliezer in Baba Batra 123a), while Rachel only had Shaul and Mordechai to boast about. The Pesikta adds Yosef to Rachel’s list, but notes that like Shaul, Yosef had no dynasty as he was just a one-time king and left no heir to his throne. 

Our goal through Torah study is to consider different possibilities, different interpretations, learn from each one as to how to relate to people and how not to relate to people. 

Ultimately, Leah and Rachel are each vindicated in one form or another. Leah is the mother of most of the tribes and is buried next to Yaakov. Rachel is the mother of Yosef, who saved the family through bringing them to Egypt, and is the mother we always imagine petitioning the Almighty on our behalf through millennia of exile. 

Both beautiful. Both extraordinarily beloved. As it should be.

Friday, November 5, 2021

Moving Past Hatred

Parshat Toldot

by Rabbi Avi Billet

At AIPAC 2019, Arthur C. Brooks addressed the “Rabbis and Cantors” at a luncheon while his book “Love Your Enemies,” was placed on the tables for all to take. Brooks spoke of the need for people who have disagreements to find the commonality in their humanity. The subtitle of his book is “How decent people can save America from the culture of contempt.” The book is highly recommended. 

In Chapter 8, entitled “Please Disagree With Me” Brooks writes of Robby George and Cornel West – both professors at Princeton at the time of publication – who “disagree vehemently on most issues, including human sexuality, race, identity, economics, and abortion.” And yet, what they say about each other is “I have a deep love for this brother. I have a deep respect for this brother.” (That’s CW speaking of RG). “We’re united to each other in love, in true fraternal affection. When I call Brother Cornel ‘Brother Cornel’ I mean he’s my brother.” (RG speaking of CW) 

 More from West: “We revel in each other’s humanity. We share a fundamental commitment to the life of the mind and the world of ideas. We’ve had a chance to teach and lecture around the country, and so when I see him, I don’t see him first and foremost as a conservative thinker, Catholic philosopher, one of the major political theorists of our day. I see him as my brother.” 

Later in the chapter, a little more from the two men regarding each other. 

West: “I see [Robby] as my friend and someone who has… a right to be wrong.” 
George: “We agree on almost nothing.” When teaching together, they allow the passion of their views and arguments to come through and “have no thought about calling each other names or shouting at each other. I think the students in that circumstance learn not only by the content of what we say but just by the example of how we conduct ourselves… Teaching with Cornel has been among the best experiences that I’ve had… in my thirty-plus years at Princeton.” 

This perspective is very refreshing - people we might assume would hate one another in the (as Brooks calls it) “Culture of Contempt” that exists in our world today when people disagree with one another, truly admire one another. In many ways it should be a model for how people who have differing views recognize the other person’s humanity, celebrating their differences even while possibly believing the other person might be (or is!) wrong. As evidenced in the Talmud and throughout Jewish history, differences of opinion, not all thinking exactly the same way, is one of the most beautiful aspects of Judaism. We are allowed and even encouraged to explore different points of view, yet we still pray together, learn Torah together, count together towards a minyan, and have communal shared interests that rise far above politics and the local flavor of the day. 

 This introduction brings us to a declaration of hatred that is mentioned by Yitzchak Avinu in Parshas Toldos. A famine sends him to Gerar, where, following his father’s example he tells everyone Rivkah (his wife) is his sister. Blessedly, she is not taken by the king, though the king gives Yitzchak a bit of a “musser shmuess” when he perchance discovers that they are indeed married to one another. Yitzchak is given the opportunity to thrive in the land (26:11-14), and he is blessed by God in doing so, which results in the Philistines becoming jealous of him. In the following verses, these jealous Philistines stuff Yitzchak’s wells (the ones he inherited from Avraham), and the king exiles him to Nachal Gerar (v .16-17). After he returns to Beer Shava, he has a vision from God, then he builds a Mizbeach and calls out in God’s name (v. 23-25). It is subsequent to this that Avimelekh, the King of Gerar, pays Yitzchak a visit while accompanied by his general Phichol, looking to make a treaty with Yitzchak. 

 Yitzchak’s reaction to them is striking. “Why have you come to me? You hate me, and you sent me away from living among you.” 

[Based on Avimelekhs’s response “We see that God is with you,” Seforno notes how this visit takes place specifically after Yitzchak’s first public expression of his connection to God (compare to Avraham who had been doing this since he first came on the scene in Canaan – see 12:8, 13:4,18) which impresses the Philistines more than all of his material success and wealth. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks ZL would often say “Non-Jews respect Jews who respect Judaism, and they are embarrassed by Jews who are embarrassed by Judaism.” It seems this would be a great example of that being true.] 

Yitzchak’s impression of how the Philistines felt about him was likely traumatic. Imagine being kicked out of a land where you’ve invested much energy, likely made friends, and have been successful (however that is defined), all because some people are jealous of that success! 

 Were they afraid of Yitzchak because of his wealth? It could be. One reason people who don’t completely see eye to eye make treaties is to avoid future conflicts. Since Avimelekh is the one approaching Yitzchak, it would seem he was fearful of something. 

 A famous Jedi master notably said, “Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.” 

One can easily suggest that the hatred Yitzchak felt aimed at him was one-sided. At the same time, Yitzchak having been wronged by the Philistines may have justifiably felt hatred towards them. But he clearly doesn’t let it preoccupy his existence. In fact, when they note why they’re here to make peace (see brackets above), Yitzchak accepts their proposition and makes peace with them. Someone with the kind of hatred we might assume Yitzchak has doesn’t move past it that quickly to make a peace treaty. Which stands to suggest that the only ones who harbored hatred were the Philistines, because they were jealous (and possibly afraid) of Yitzchak. Yitzchak accepted their offer – perhaps he didn’t want the hatred to lead to suffering. 

 Hatred is a powerful emotion which consumes the person who hates. Even a simple google search of the phrase “The Destructive Power of Hate” brings up examples of people decrying hatred. 


 And, of course, in Orchos Tzadikim (OTz) (“The Ways of the Righteous”) there is an entire chapter dedicated to hatred and the need to overcome it. The following ideas in bold come from that chapter. 

 We have commandments, such as “Don’t hate your brother in your heart” (Vayikra 19:17) – which does not mean hate him out in the open, but is rather an exhortation to purge the hatred from your heart, perhaps even through talking to the person directly or with or through a third party. 

 Hatred leads to slander, wanting the worst for him, rejoicing in his misfortune, bearing a grudge, not pitying him even when he is in dire straits. The hater even disparages the other person’s good deeds, withholds goods or goodness from the person, and never acknowledges when the hater was mistaken. 

 There is a hatred which exists when the hater can’t even talk to the subject of his hatred. The example OTz gives is King David’s son Avshalom who (rightly) hated his half-brother Amnon (who had raped Avshalom’s full sister Tamar) and eventually killed Amnon because his hatred was so deeply-seeded. He couldn’t even talk to Amnon because of how deep his hatred was. 

 Contrast this to Avraham who prayed on behalf of Avimelekh who had abducted his wife. 

 OTz decries “Sinas Chinam” – often translated as baseless hatred - noting that even worse than that is hatred which comes from envy – as described in our parsha. What comes as a result? Hatred because someone didn’t do something for you that you wanted him/her to do (such as give a gift, or say the right words, or extend a loan); hatred from thinking that person isn’t as good as I am, so why is that person more successful or seemingly more blessed by God?; hatred of a tradesman for a competitor; hatred of a person who offers reproof and constructive criticism; hatred of those who do good and pursue righteousness. 

 Psychology and common sense will suggest that a person who harbors hatred is most consumed by the hatred, and would do well to try to purge those feelings from the heart. Sometimes it takes a difficult conversation to work through differences, and sometimes it is a personal decision that a person must make: Do I want to let hatred consume me? Or do I want to eradicate hatred, and all the horrible feelings and behaviors associated with it, from my experience? 

 That latter approach is the way in which OTz suggests one eradicate most forms of Hatred: “Imagine that [your life’s reality] comes from the Creator Who decreed all this for his good, and accept it with love. There is no doubt that if this is done all hatred will depart from his heart. This is a great foundation of the Torah, to accept everything with love and say “This too is for the good.” One who accustoms oneself to do this, who concentrates upon this in his heart and rejoices in the judgments of the Creator… will be rescued from hatred, enmity, and envy.” 

 OTz concludes the chapter saying that there is a mitzvah to hate: hate a wicked person who does not wish to improve, hate evil, and hate falsehood and deceit. Mostly one must hate whatever distances and deters a person from loving Hashem. 

While it is certainly hoped that no one has any feelings of hatred or enmity towards another, hopefully the teachings of Orchos Tzadikim can give us pause to consider a path forward. If we are the targets of someone else’s hatred (assuming we know about it), sending out an olive branch, perhaps through a third party, puts the onus on the other person to move on from that hatred. If we did something for which we need to apologize, a sincere apology should certainly accompany that olive branch, with a commitment to right whatever wrongs were committed, if at all possible. 

 If such feelings exist from us towards others, there are certainly a few possibilities to consider: 

  1. If the person lives elsewhere and we are not likely to see the person, we must banish the hatred from our hearts and move on. 
  2. If the person lives in our community (many of us live in more than one community), we should ask ourselves if that hatred we feel is of our own making or because of what the other person did or does. If the hatred comes from within ourselves, we must read the chapter of Orchos Tzadikim (https://www.sefaria.org/Orchot_Tzadikim.6?lang=bi) and work to remove the hatred from our hearts. If it is on account of something the other person did or does, perhaps speaking with an objective third party can help us work through the issue, if indeed we would like to move past the feelings of hatred. This is particularly true if what the other person did or does can’t objectively be viewed as coming from a bad place. If what the other person did or does was and/or is destructive to our lives, this is of course much more difficult because that issue needs to be resolved before we can move on. 
  3. If the person is a relative, especially one we would be required to sit shiva for one day (a parent, a sibling, a child) per the customs of mourning, then we must ask ourselves how this started and more importantly how can it end? To bring one example from our parsha which ends in Parshas Vayishlach, despite their differences, Yaakov and Eisav reembrace (33:4) after a very bitter parting (27:41-45), and they are both present at their father’s funeral (35:29). Their conversation in 33:8-15 demonstrates reconciliation even as they choose to go their separate ways. No matter how we wish to view their personal relationship when they live apart from one another, the fact that they meet in chapter 33 demonstrates that they can talk to one another, and that they depart from one another on speaking terms. 
 
Yitzchak Avinu likely didn’t harbor hatred towards Avimelekh, and Yitzchak was clearly ready to move past it when those who hated him demonstrated their readiness to move on. And what united them? A vision forward that included a Godly existence, Yitzchak declaring the Oneness of his God, Avimelekh respecting a Jew who respected Judaism, and their shared commitment to not hate one another, despite their differences. 

 After all, as we learned from Cornel West and Robby George (and Arthur C. Brooks), the opposite of a culture of contempt produces greatness and enhances human relationships forward, rather than getting stuck in the muck of hatred which only consumes and destroys otherwise decent people.